Hanoi, my Home from Home

Walking in Sa Pa

Phew! I’m back in Hanoi. Which, when I first arrived, is a sentence I didn’t ever imagine I’d write. But isn’t there something reassuring about returning almost anywhere? I’ve been away and back twice now and each time I’ve liked this city more. Right now I’m positively a fan. I’ve learnt that it is okay to be a vegetarian in Vietnam and perhaps even more crucially, I’ve learnt to cross the roads. Mainly by avoiding eye contact and maintaining a focus on my goal (the opposite pavement) or surreptitiously attaching myself to a resident Hanoian who are easy to spot in that they make traffic-dodging look effortless. And now here I sit on the balcony of The Hanoi Coffee Station with an iced-coconut coffee and avocado on toast on the way. I realise I sound like a bit of a hipster, but honestly, I’m here simply for the sit down.

Late last night I arrived back into the chaos of the city after a trip to the oh, so peaceful mountain region of Sa Pa. The town of Sa Pa lies at an elevation of 1500 metres and, at 350 kilometres north west of Hanoi, is close to the Vietnam China border. Towards the end of the six hour bus journey, much of it is winding mountain roads with scenery way too big to fit into a smartphone-camera frame. It is nestled in the Hoang Lien Son mountain range which includes Vietnam’s highest mountain, Phan-Xi-Pan (or Fancy Pants as I like to call it), which peaks at a mighty 3143 meters above sea level. I had done my homework, but was unprepared for the vastness of the landscape with bamboo forests, rivers, waterfalls and villages dotted amongst the steps upon steps upon steps of rice fields. I know, I know, but Sa Pa might be my favourite place yet.

And it wasn’t just the scenery, which would in itself have been enough, but again, I know, I know, I met so many beautiful people there. The region is home to the people of five different hill tribes and the wonderfully colourful and incredibly astute women of all tribes and ages have tapped into the tourist trade with gusto. I’m really not sure I’ve ever met such a joyful bunch. Perhaps it does have something to do with the burgeoning Vietnamese economy, but honestly, I think it’s in their bones. Their lives are far from easy but I got some much needed belly laughs with our guides, Shoua and Khu. Shoua’s playfulness and wicked cackle was infectious, and besides that, I don’t doubt that Khu will realise her dream to build a homestay of her own and help local children learn English. There were also the women vendors who tagged along on our treks and held our hands on the steep and slippery bits, found spots for us to sit when we were huffing and puffing, and moreover provided great company. Of course, they completely fleeced us when we came to the villages where they lived, but to my mind they more than earned every penny. I now have quite a collection of indigo-dyed, hand-sewn purses and wrist-ties. So don’t tell me what you want for Christmas.

I also must mention 25 year-old, Viet, from Saigon, who for the last two months has been cycling a loop through Cambodia, Thailand, Laos, and Vietnam with a tent, a deep curiosity for life, and an idea to ‘change his mind’. I’d gone out for a pre-breakfast walk through the village with Peter Long-Legs, a reasonably tall Dutchman who became a giant amongst the tiny women of Sa Pa, and with Maho, who is meeting me here in this coffee shop shortly, two of my trekking companions, and who also stayed at the Ta Van Ecologic Homestay. My memory is that we ran into Viet’s beaming smile before we ran into him. We chatted a while and he showed us a long list of notes from conversations that he’d had with people along the way and the beautiful photographs he’d taken. Sometimes you just meet people who have something indefinable-but-extra about them and he was one of those. Viet was on a journey in every sense of the word. And was an inspiration. Another young person showing me the way.

It’s tomorrow now. If you know what I mean. And another day means another coffee shop. The very secret entrance to Cafe Pho Co is through a tiny silk shop where a tiled courtyard filled with plants and birdcages leads to a spiral metal staircase. I’m sitting on the roof of this old French colonial house overlooking the lake and it’s kind of magical. I’ve ordered an egg coffee. Yesterday Maho and I spent the day soaking up every last little drop of Hanoi. We went to Train Street, Dong Xuan market, Long Bien Bridge and everything in between. We took photos of it all; people posing on train tracks, ourselves included, people having haircuts in the street, and people sleeping at their market stalls. Sleeping and eating are very public affairs in Hanoi and the pavement seems to be a living room for all. We met up with Peter Long-Legs in the evening to sit on squat stools in Beer Street and it was lovely to be out in the hustle and bustle with friends.

And then last night, hallelujah, I slept through the night for the first time in what seems like an age. I’ve been feeling a little like an over-stimulated child lately and you don’t know the half of it because I haven’t even told you about Halong Bay yet. But I’ve finally worked out what my next move is going to be. At least in the short term. My plan had always been to leave Hanoi today although I didn’t know exactly where to. My flight from Saigon to Manila isn’t until November 13th so I had imagined I’d travel south between now and then. But the weather and my feelings for the north are going to keep me up in this region a little longer. Also, apart from the coffee breaks, I’ve not at all heeded my own advice to sit a while. So this morning I’ve decided that this afternoon I’ll head to Ninh Binh. It is actually a little way south, but at only 95 kilometres away it’s not so far that I’ll feel like I’ve really left just yet. I’ve heard Ninh Binh described as Halong Bay on land, laid-back, and serene. I’ll let you know.