North in Vietnam

Back in mid June, I found myself plotting a visit to Vietnam as my Japan visa reached its three month limit. I thought about returning home to the Tucson summer, but instead planned out a Southeast Asia itinerary for summer that would begin in Hanoi, Vietnam’s capital and the cultural center of its north. I’d travel alone for a couple weeks, then Claire would join me afterwards in the south for an overland traversal to Bangkok over her summer holiday. Southeast Asia, but Vietnam especially, has held an allure for many westerners as a hub of adventure, culture and natural beauty, all at a bargain. Visiting was eye-opening in many ways, and I can aver it did not disappoint at all.

The change in tempo from Japan to Vietnam was apparent immediately. The tranquility of Japanese society faded when I got on my VietJet flight and had a curious child chatting me up in English. It’s not that I mind, by the way, but it’s very rare to strike up conversations on transit in Japan, especially in English. When the flight landed, everyone was immediately standing in a scrum to get their luggage. A bit on the chaotic side, I’d say, but that is just the beginning. Walking out into the terminal and getting bombarded by taxi hawkers was a sonic assault. I fortunately had prepared, and with a little struggle, eventually found the cheaper city bus for my first small win. Although the exchange rate from USD to VND makes most of these savings moot, it’s still important for me to try and function in any society as normally as possible instead of being too profligate a spender.

I was staying in the Old Quarter of Hanoi, which is pretty much the most happening area with all the good and bad that comes with that baggage. Heavy traffic, neon signs, and touts far and wide for services both honest and illicit. Having left my bicycle and other accessories with Claire in Japan, I was light with just a carry-on, so it was easy to amble through in the evening dark from my bus stop. I took a seat at a sidewalk cafe advertising cheap draft beer before heading to my hostel and began my culinary adventure with some deep fried tofu.

I’m happy to report that Vietnam was wonderful on the vegan front. Despite some great options in Tokyo, they need to be sought out and planned around; generally, I feel fairly repressed in Japan. In Hanoi, I could walk in any direction and see restaurants advertising vegetarian and vegan fare. Eating vegetarian (chay) in Vietnam is normal with the Buddhist influence. Combined with a population with a much better general grasp on English, I felt generally ok if I wandered into a random restaurant that I’d be able to eat well. Banh mi, pho, all kinds of tofu stews, salads and spring rolls, boy do I love Vietnamese cooking. All were easily washed down with coconut or sugarcane juice.

In Hanoi, I spent the days checking out museums and other cultural exhibits. It’s very chaotic at all hours in the Old Quarter, so these reprieves were always quite welcome. It’s simple to spend a few hours in air-conditioned peace strolling and learning, and a museum is always a great way to begin orienting oneself in a new locale. I learned about Vietnamese history, from its origins to its wars (so much war), as well as its varied indigenous populations. I always like seeing how a country portrays its side of the story in global history, and the stain of our activities in the Vietnam War (there, the American War) loomed large in my head. In the end, however, I found Vietnam’s history museum disappointing in telling the details and timelines of its wars and throwing off its colonizers satisfactorily. There were many interesting artifacts, especially ancient ones, but not enough exposition to understand how things happened.

Getting around anywhere in Vietnam, but especially Hanoi, is part of the adventure. Public transit was inscrutable, and walking about in an oppressive heat and humidity can wear you down quickly. Crossing the street there would leave many aghast, with how pedestrians are expected to merge with the flow of constantly moving vehicles; ’twas fun for me though. Taxis often are the only functioning option in Southeast Asian countries for tourists without their own wheels, and I wasn’t surprised to continue that trend here. I used the Grab app and would hail motorbike riders for a pretty good rate. It’s a pretty fun way to get around the bustling city, zooming around perched on the back of one.

But, oh, the haggling. Love it or hate it, it’s a part of life there for almost every service, unless you just don’t care about paying double. There are all kinds of games on upselling, or sob stories, especially in the Old Quarter, especially for Americans who are prone to tipping. I really wouldn’t go to Vietnam without mentally steeling yourself to handle negotiating, otherwise you will be taken advantage of over and over. For every ‘win’ I had, where I felt I paid the right price a local would, I had another loss where I was tricked or conned in some minor capacity. I also generally made sure to always have enough small cash to never have a large bill held ransom if there was a dispute on a service’s costs, and credit card transactions are rare. It all wore on me quite a deal, and I rarely let my guard down, regardless I kept up my near-daily massage routine, which is probably the biggest perk of visiting this part of the world.

After all my ‘fun’ in Hanoi, and getting my orientation there, I followed a recommendation from one of Claire’s friends to visit Sa Pa, in the northwestern mountains. The city doesn’t have much history, but offers a cooling elevation and is a meeting grounds of many different indigenous tribes. I got a bunk on the night train up to Lao Cai and then a taxi immediately further to the mountain town, which most tourists do. I hosteled there a few nights and made it my hub for exploring the area on foot. It was gorgeous to take in the small city of Sa Pa with the clouds and mountains all around.

Even though June and July are the rainy season in Vietnam, in Sa Pa it tended to be more of a mild drizzle or mist, which kept things nice and cool. I first made my way to Fansipan, Vietnam’s high point at over 3,000 meters. Alas, in this season, it’s almost never visible and shrouded constantly in clouds. One can trek up to the top, but I just took the ropeway which left me a half hour’s walk from the top, all paved, with temples and a transit option for the walking disinclined. With a rain jacket in hand, it was an easy journey. The view on the ropeway was quite a treat, with clear views of the valley between Sa Pa and the mountains until ascending into dense grey mist. Most of the audience here were domestic tourists, and I found myself to be a bit of a spectacle on the ropeway entertaining kids.

I spent 3 days after ascending Fansipan just trekking about the area. It’s a decent industry for the locals to offer guided trips of the communities here, but I just rolled my own doing different walks I stitched together researching on Google Maps. Each day was about 10 miles of walking or so along the village roads and occasional footpaths. It was definitely a fun plan, and amusing to find myself as the only unaccompanied foreigner ambling about. The villages were interesting to walk through, though the touts were quite aggressive, and saddening when children were involved. I found myself even making some purchases under duress that I actually liked later on, and a lesson from personal experience: if you buy from one tribe and not another, expect an earful. I sometimes hear quips about foreigners being treated as “walking ATMs” in some places, but these villages are the only place I ever experienced it literally; I was demanded by some touts to exchange any VND I had for their USD from other transactions. All the commercialism muddled my experience here, but I was still very glad to have gone and absorbed the flow of Sa Pa and its tribal communities.

My last stop on this trip wound up being Ninh Binh, a few hours south of Hanoi, where I took the night bus directly from Sa Pa. Like the train, it was surprisingly comfortable, with sleeping beds, an amenity not offered in the USA. Although an unwelcome return to stifling heat, the area here was quite beautiful and peaceful. The Trang An Complex is the highlight of the area, a languid maze of rivers navigable by a fleet of small manual ferries. Picturesque limestone karsts stand tall all around, temples are scattered about and the rivers even go through them into caves. Definitely became a highlight of the trip, but the heat made it a one-and-done experience despite their being multiple locations. My hostel here was the friendliest of the bunch I stayed at, and it was easy to sit around the pool and mingle with others, and rent a bicycle to get around the area.

Unfortunately, my plans to head south from Ninh Binh and soon meet with Claire at Saigon were waylaid. A family emergency on her part prompted a sudden change of schedule to make a return to the United Kingdom and cancel our plans in Southeast Asia. With her suddenly traveling there and having no fixed plan here, I simply opted to join her, and so I booked myself a westward odyssey from Hanoi to eventually Newcastle, and bid Vietnam a decently fond farewell, with hopes to return to the area and its neighboring states sometime soon.

It was amusing to consider communism on this trip, as it’s still such a naughty word in US politics. In Vietnam, the hammer and sickle is prominently displayed across governmental buildings, but I’m not sure what is really communist there or in China, which I was also considering visiting later in this trip. Both nations have mostly renounced communism except in name, and have embraced the capitalistic market economies that drive the West in many of their industries, to a good degree of profit. It makes me wonder about what economic models are truly possible, and if we can have something more equitable than unfettered capitalism, which isn’t really working out ideally in America or across the world.

Lastly, traveling to Vietnam was interesting contextually for me because it was the first openly authoritarian state I’ve visited. I previously held a prohibition about traveling to these places that I now feel was misplaced; it took the shock of the US 2024 election to see that unfortunately, the world as a whole seems to be regressing this way on personal freedoms and governments that prioritize the common good and open discourse. I feel a bit resigned now to this dystopia, and feel that if there’s a good reason to see or visit a place despite an odious government, I will consider it. After all, we Americans have chosen something like it for ourselves with a second helping of Trump.