Hanoi: The grand-old dame aging gracefully

I wish I were a poet. So, I can eloquently describe the landscape, the atmosphere and the people of this city. The girls with flawless skin, high cheekbones and petite figure. The foggy lake, the crazy motorists, the French colonial buildings, the small alleys and the noodles.

And I would give the title Hanoi Blues.

But I’m not even close to a poet, so let me start by saying how I fell in love with Hanoi and I’m rethinking communism (for the second time after last year’s visit to India when I learned about Kerala).

When we arrived at grim Hanoi airport, the chilly breeze was welcoming us, along with a crowd of fake fur loving gals. Shame on me for thinking that the whole Southeast Asia has warm and damp climate all year round. Summer dress and shorts were stuck in the luggage and I had to buy socks and thick silk scarf – lovely and plenty in stores.

The architecture of the city was lovely, as the administration preserves the old buildings. My father said it was like Jakarta in the 1950s. I say it’s like Bandung’s Braga all over the city, and Menteng in some parts.

There was no skyscraper; everything we saw was grand old building. But signs of modernity and capitalism were evident, with boutiques and shops of international brands and dozens of cafés. Btw, not far from the airport, you’d bump into a seemingly upscale suburban housing with “Ciputra” name on the gate. Yes, that Ciputra.

We stayed at a nice, six-story budget hotel called Indochina (really recommended), located on the street of Au Trieu. Most of the buildings in downtown Hanoi are narrow but tall. A Vietnamese friend said it was due to the skyrocketing land price, which she said one of the most, if not the most, expensive in the world.

It was nice just to walk around the city, especially in such cold weather. Our favorite place to hang out was by the Hoan Biem lake, at this café called Hapro. The food was just okay, though the coffee was marvelous, but the ambience made the food extra delicious.

Street hawkers are plenty all over the place, where they set short tables and chairs (a.k.a. dingklik/jojodog). Vietnamese food is relatively healthier, with lots of fishes, seafood and vegetables. The coffee, I must say again and again, is incredible regardless where you have it.

If you have only two days in Hanoi, do visit Halong Bay. It’s four-hour drive away from Hanoi, but it’s really worth it. We agreed that it was the best US$30 we had ever spent as it covered the car ride back and forth, boat trip, lovely lunch on the boat, a tour to an island and a cave and kayaking. Very rejuvenating.

We spent the last day just exploring the city: Circling the lake, walking around Old Quarter (Jl. Jaksa-esque tourist spot), had some coffee, perambulating French Quarter where French colonial buildings are, had more coffee, and buy some souvenirs. Souvenirs are not really cheap (the vendors already set the price in US dollars), and boy did the sellers have high pride. Think they would chase you and give in to your price? Think again. They rarely, rarely, do that.

Anyway, as they say that pain is the precondition of great arts, it rings true in Hanoi. Even those cheap paintings on the side of the street are not soulless, and they can project longing, subtlety, loneliness...

I really want to come back. Maybe to Ho Chi Minh City too. And Hue. I still haven’t asked Vietnamese women the secret to their flawless skin.

Posted by hera at Sunday, December 30, 2007 1:15 PM | Permalinks