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We left Nghia Lo at around 9am today. Hoang warned us, once again, that we would experience ‘very simple life’. I think he is worried that we will be disappointed at the hotels, food, towns and what have you. He also mentioned that we were a very rare species in this part of Vietnam, as only very, very few tourists ever make there way out here. We are far off the tourist trail, which either goes further south of here, or more to the northeast for people heading directly to Sapa. Very soon aster we left Nghia Lo, where we had a simple breakfast consisting of a baguette, eggs and nescafe (notice the French influence?), we quickly gained altitude. The road was very steep and in no time, we had climbed from 300 meters above sea level to around 1500 or 1600m. The hills and mountains resembled those of southern Switzerland in terms of shape and vegetation.

On the way, we passed many interesting sites and sights. A group of Dao women and a Dao man made for a colourful subject. The group were just on their way to go fishing in a nearby stream.

Shortly after that, we stopped near a small Dao town to bewonder the beautiful landscape. A valley with forested slopes and small tribal towns on both sides, a road with a river beside it running the length of the valley, but not a motorized vehicle to be seen. Left and right were corn and rice fields. At a nearby home, a group of ladies were sweeping up rice they had laid out on the road to dry. They started a conversation with Hoang, wondering who we were. As we joined him, he explained to us that this lady had a rice and corn grinding business, and did this for the people of the towns nearby. We continued talking, and asking about each others ways. She eventually invited us to have a look inside her home.

She and her family were also pig farmers and rice wine makers. Quite the enterprise they had built up. She was just letting three barrels of rice ferment, cooking up fermented rice in another pot and boiling down in a third. She enjoyed telling us about her life, and was visibly proud of her little business.
As we drove on, we noticed how, in many aspects, time had stood still. Our farming lady, for example, had had power only since the year 2000! Fields were still plowed with oxen or water buffalo and a hand made wooden hand plow. And, the children walked miles and miles to school, often barefoot. But, the people were busy, going around their business, tending fields, fixing roads, making and mending fences, building houses… All by hand; practically without a single maschine.

We slowly descended towards Than Uyen. The roads were noticeably worse. Many were severly washed out by rain and resulting landslides, others we being rerouted due to huge construction sites for new electrical dams – hydro power being one of the big things of the future for Vietnam. In this area, there was a new hydro electric project ongoing – its dimensions just huge. Due to this, and the flooding of the valleys, there was a major relocation program in the area, with new houses just popping out of the ground. A shame actually, and a drama for the people.

With just 10km to go until Than Uyen, a large valley opened up before us, filled with rice fields and numerous villages. As we approached one of the villages,, in which all the houses were built of wood with thatched rooves and the living level raised well above the ground (stilt-houses), Hoang suggested we go have a closer look. Manh parked the van at the roadside and off we went. We descended through a bamboo forest into a village of the Thai people. Of course, we were observed by curious, eager eyes of many cildren, although they were too shy to approach us. We walked straight down to the paddy fields and had a first close up glanze at the growing rice.

Hoang explained the whole process of preparing, planting, growing, harvesting as we meandered along the thin dividers between the fields. The rice here was about two months away from harvest and some stalks already showed signs of rice kernals. Some also had bright pink larvae on them; these will all be hand removed before they turn into rice eating snails. As we walked back through the village, a resident invited us to a cup of tea. As I had mentioned earlier, all the houses we on stilts. We removed our shoes to climb the steep steps to the porch and the living level. There were seven steps to climb, and Hoang explained to us the reason. The seven steps, always present at the main entrance of a traditional Thai house, is a symbol of the man. The number seven is symbolic for the mouth to eat and communicate, the two ears to listen, the two eyes to see and the two nostrils to breath and smell. At the other end of the house, leading to the kitchen, is the womans stairs. These stairs have nine steps. What are the additional two for? For the nipples, to feed the child. Now, anyone can use any stairs; it isn’t that themen only enter the front and women the back. But the woman is traditionally in the kitchen, and the man the master of the house, in line with the saying “a man makes a house, a woman makes a home”. After enjoying a few cups of tea, and Hoang repeatedly persuading the “man of the house” that his guests do not want any of the homemade rice wine, we said our friendly good-byes. The children were still extremely shy and intimidated by the big white men. A short ride later we arrived in Than Uyen, a sleepy little town. There, during my evening walk, I played vietnamese type of hackey sack with a bunch of kids and had a few goods laughs. Again, a simple, but tasty dinner, beer, sleep…

Pick-up at the hotel was at 8:30. By that time, we had to eat breakfast, pack and get to the lobby. Not that they would have left without us. You see, we were very privelaged and had a private tour, so just our driver Manh, our guide Hoang, my dad and yours truly. After throwing our stuff into our trusty Ford Transit, we headed west out of Hanoi. Traffic conditions didn’t change in the outskirts. On the contrary. Partially due to the fact that it was Sunday, partially because the roads got smaller, the traffic kept its chaotic character, but always flowed slowly. There is no way one of us ‘westerners’ could manage to navigate through this traffic but it seems there are some driving strategies. Keep the same speed, weave gently, never swerve, never look back, don’t stop, beep often. The traffic doesn’t ever move fast. The fastest we did all day was 50, max 60km/h.

Once we left the greater Hanoi area, things got greener and quieter. And I mean really green. You know the saying ?things are greener on the other side’? Well, this was the other side in comparison. The traffic was left behind, and we encountered more bicycles and other traditional means of transportation. It was obvious though that motorbikes and scooters are the main means of transport and transportation. There is almost nothing that isn’t carried on the motorbikes, and for almost everything, there is a gadget, hook or special method to attach it. Cages with scores of chickens, window frames, ceramic pots that were more than a meter tall, bamboo two meters long – the wide way. Or 15 meters long dragging behind. Nothing will top the two fully grown pigs lying belly up, squealing, tied to a wooden crate, somehow magically affixed to a 50cc scooter!

More and more, paddy fields and tea bushes dominated the scenery as we got into the foothills. A walk through one of the fields of tea bushes, mainly used for green tea, resulted in some great photos. Hoang is very good in explaining everything in great detail. He has extremely wide and deep knowledge – history, geography, culture, agriculture – you name it. I mean, how many Canadians could explain the parallels of Hanoi and Ottawa compared to Toronto and Saigon?

As we drove on, the ‘old Vietnam’ became more and more apparent. Oxen, water buffalo and horses were pulling carts, women with the typical conical hats were tending to the paddy fields, bicycles with whole families were travelling the streets.

Hoang gave us the liberty of deciding when we want to stop for pictures, stretching are legs or doing what little boys have to do every once in a while, so we picked a few places en route to grab some pictures. Just by the scenery, we could have stopped every few kilometers, but then we would never have reached Nghia Lo. One stop though was especially memorable. We were driving along the mountain side, the opposite side covered with tea bushes. We snapped some pictures and decided to walk along the windy road for a few kilometers. We came to a steep path leading down to a river, and Hoang suggested we follow it. After a bit, a small, simple home of a local appeared before us. We were still a bit away when a man, presumably towards his sixties, beckoned us in his direction, inviting us into his humble home. The people live simple, but satisfied. A single room, in the middle of it a table and two wooden benches. At the end, the wall was covered with pictures, symbols of buddhism and a small altar. On both ends of the house there was a bed, about two meters wide. Each bed can be sectioned off with a curtain, and in this mans case, each bed sleeps three. Three generations live here, together with chickens which stroll around on the stone floor in the house, and a few pigs just behind the thin wall consisting only of a few wooden boards. The house was of wood with a simple tiled roof and a single entrance, that also being the only source of natural light. The gentleman invited us to join him at the table and enjoy a few cups of green tea with him. He was from the largest group of people in Vietnam, the Kinh of Viet people. He actually originates from central Vietnam, but due to the over population there, left that area so he could get a decent piece of land up here in the north. The government supported and to a certain extent subsidised the people who populated the north. He explained to Hoang that he grows, picks and dries the tea homself. This is his main source of income. We got the freshest (and strongest) cup of tea I have ever had. He was very excited and happy to have us, he could hardly stop serving us. I guess part of it was also our ignorance – we emptied the tiny cup each time, and then it gets refilled – Vietnamese hospitality. Man, did I ever have to go behind a bush… But then he showed us how and where he makes the tea, not missing a detail. It was a very nice inter-cultural experience for all of us.

We moved on after a while, enjoying the hills and seeing how we were nearing the mountains. Now, in Nghia Lo, Dad is napping after the long etappe we did today. I’ll have to wake him in a bit to go for dinner. At dinner, we’ll have to convince Hoang and Manh to join us at the dinner table, not like during lunch*. But until it was time, and while Dad was sleeping anyway, I decided to let him snore away, grabbed my camera and Polaroid Pogo, and head out into town. It was a small town, with the local market right beside our hotel. It was full of colourful fruit, lucious vegetables, raw meats laid out on the ground and all kinds of other things – things we wouldn’t even consider selling! Colourful market ladies and their kids offered me their produce, a smile and a look of bewilderment. One little girl, about 11 or 12, smiled so geniunely and said the sweetest ‘Hello’ in english, that I couldn’t resist asking for a picture, using my hands and camera to signal my intent. She put her sweetest smile on for me. It was my turn to then give something back. I took out my little Pogo printer and started printing the picture. As that was happening, a crowd gathered around me. Kids, parents, grandparents, mothers with babies.

As the picture was coming out of the printer, oohs and aahs and even screeches of joy resounded on all sides. It came as it had to come… I had hands tapping me from all sides, people posing, smiling, laughing – all wanting pictures. I snapped some pics, printed a bunch more, and ran out of paper. I tried to explain, and I think I was understood. At least, the crowd dispersed with people saying good night, shaking my hand, clapping me on the shoulder. What a great experience, filled with joy and happiness of those kids and their parents. I hope they have as good a memory of this magical moment as I do!

We had dinner alone. I mean, really alone. A room, about 20sq. meters, ceiling almost 3 meters high. Red carpets, thick, heavy red curtains. Communist symbols and decoration on all sides. Dad, me, eight or nine dishes of food, and our trusty Bia Ha Noi… Again the food was very good and overly plentiful. Springrolls, a spinach-like veggie, rice, chicken, tofu, rice, potatoes and, did I mention rice? For dessert we got a wonderful bouquet of fresh local fruit with the sweetest tangerines we ever had. Did we ever sleep well that night!

*Note: We later learning to respect this, although initially it was strange for us. We felt as if we were being served and got to sit at the tables with the good views, when all we wanted was equality and a good discussion. But, we then realized that this was their time-off during their working day, time to relax and discuss in their own language and culture. How could we have been so ignorant at the beginning?

The horrible sound of an alarm clock woke me at 6am. Thanks to the “Symphony of Horns“, I realized quickly that I was waking up in Hanoi. By 6:30, my dad and I hit the streets of the old quarter. From our lodging at the Viet Hotel on Hang Than (Hang=Street), we meandered along Dong Xuan until we got to Hoan Kiem Lake. The city wasn’t sleeping, but it wasn’t yet at a full bustle either. Now, sitting in the hotel room again, it is just after 9am, the sound of children playing (there is a school next door), horns honking and beeping (whats the difference?) and other unidentifiable noises fill the air. The walk around the lake, awakening with life, was very interesting. Left, right and center you could observe locals of all ages, sizes (well, they are all rather shorter and thin-ish compared to us) and social layers doing what I think is Tai Chi or other spiritual or physical exercises.

We were definately the red cherries in the green fruit basket – we didn’t see any other westerners until we had gotten back to the north end of the lake where we had started. As we rounded the lake with its murky green water, Hanoi started to wake up and get into a bustle. Traffic increased, as did the related noise. The activity on the street was amazing. Cars, buses, trucks, pedestrians, bicycles and hundreds of motorbikes and scooters going in all directions – seemingly all at the same time and in the same few square meters!!! Hoangs tips from the previous evening about crossing the street came in very handy – “don’t run, just keep the same speed. Then they [the cars and motorcycles] will miss you”… Enough said.

After a breakfast overlooking the rooftops of Hanoi, which in bad weather is a gray and dismal site, but with some sunlight turns into a colourful mosaic, we took a snooze. Partly to deal with the jet lag and travel fatigue, partly because we got up so early and had a two hour hike behind us, sucking in all there was to see, small and hear. After our snooze, we headed over to the travel agency, Footprint Vietnam Travel, to get the latest trip info and to settle the rest of the bill. As the hotel ushered a taxi, the receptionist handed us a map of the city, with some useful translations on the back, titled “Useful Vietnamese”. It was a list of 17 important words (the 17 MOST important?), terms such as ‘Hello’, ‘Thank you’, ‘how are you’ and ‘you are beautiful’?? What? The footnote did state clearly that this term was ‘for women only’. For women to use or for to be used for women? No further explanation required nor recieved…

We were greeted in a most friendly manner by the rep at Footprint. After some more details about our trip, and reviewing the route on the map, we headed back into the city jungle. A roughly 2km walk along Trang Thi street with its hundreds of liitle shops and street vendors brought us to the Temple of Literature. But not before we didn’t look at some of the shops and stop for lunch on the way. All the shops were similar. A very small storefront, maybe three of four meters wide, and six to ten meters deep. Behind the shop was usually the bedroom, or what seemed to be a common room. Live and work in one place seemed to be a very common thing, and also, many businesses were run by the whole family.

The temple of Literature was the first university in Vietnam, built in honour of Confucious. A well kept, impressive site, shielded from the craze on the streets by a wall around the whole perimeter. Although the engine noise and horns did not stop at the walls, they were more subdued on the inside of this beautiful historical site. Almost a subtle place, for Hanoi… It was interesting to see how the vietnamese honoured Confucious, and even more it seemed, honoured the 72 stone turtles, each representing a high teacher. Many vietnamese didn’t pass by the turtles without patting each and every one on the head. It is said that doing so gifts the person with immortality. At the far end of the Temple of Literature, vietnamese music was played on a dong, a single string instrument which is plucked, and with a vertical lever, the tonality is changed. There was also an altar, and statues, stories and paintings of a time long past.

A rather wild and overly expensive taxi ride later, thanks to the rigged taxi-meter, we arrived back at the hotel, tired from the walking, heat and a sensory overload, at about 4:30pm. There, we reviewed the itinerary for tomorrow, as that is when the big tour starts. Then, dinner at the hotel restaurant, simply because we were too tired to take more then 20 steps in any direction. After dinner, we did muster just enough energy to head back towards the market place, where we witnessed traditional song and dance, so lucky we did. Back at the hotel, we captured our days experiences in our little books that would be further filled with great memories over the next 14 days.

If you come back in a few days, you’ll be able to read all about our first day on the road, from Hanoi to Nghia Lo.

We left from Zurich in the evening, treating ourselves to business class seats for the long trip to Bangkok. Good god I work for an airline, that makes that part affordable. Hopping off the plane in Bangkok, the heat and humidity almost knocked us back into the SWISS A340-300. The flight was quiet and smooth; I slept most of the ten and a half hours. In Bangkok we had a 3 1/2 hour layover and spent the time strolling through the modern airport building, getting our first taste of Asia. But, even in parts of the airport it was too hot to actually do much. We were aircon area seekers…

In the early evening, we boarded our Thai Airways flight, an Airbus A300-600 to Hanoi. The flight was only about an hour and a half. There were beautiful thunder clouds lining the horizon for much of the trip. It was amazing how the cloud formations seemed to have a life, lightning give them an erie glow… They provided an awesome play of light, with the sun setting behind the airplane and lighting bolts illuminating the dark clouds ahead of it.

The first impression of Vietnam, Hanoi’s Noi Bai airport, was as if we were thrown back several years – unlit taxiways, dark, empty old hangers, a strong smell of jet fuel. The temperatures on the otherhand were a delight – 18° celcius, not the heat and humidity that we had expected. Before entering Vietnam, we had to get our Visa on arrival, for which we already had an invitation letter organized through Footprint, our travel agency. Because we didn’t have a passport photo, the immigration officer earned himself a few extra dollars, using his five dollar point-and-shoot to take our picture. Actually, we don’t even know if he took a picture – he pointed the camera towards us and before anything actually happened, he said it was ok… But he stretched out his hand for the $$$ so we’ll give him the benefit of the doubt.

After a few more critical glanzes from the very communist costumed immigration officers, we found our bags looping around the carousel. In the arrival hall, we were then met by Hoang, our tour guide (and turned friend) for the trip. He will spend the next 14 days, starting the day after tomorrow, showing us northern Vietnam, the country, the culture. He introduced us to Manh, our driver, as well as our oversized Ford Transit van which will be our retreat for the next couple of weeks. During the drive from the airport to downtown Hanoi, Hoang briefed us about the trip and gave us some cultural advice, safety tips and survival guidelines for the Hanoi traffic. At that time we didn’t realize how glad we’d be for those. As we neared the center of town, he welcomed us to the ‘Symphony of Horns’ as he calls the honking and beeping on the streets.

Our hotel, the Viet Hotel located at the edge of the old quarters, is a cozy, friendly, clean place. It is not too loud there, and the staff did a great job to make us feel at home. The room was really good, the food was quite ok. We dropped our bags and, although both of us being a bit tired from the trip, decided to take a first plunge into old Hanoi to find some food. It was just after 9pm, and the streets were still bustling with activity. We strolled along until we got to the big market square, where we found numerous sidewalk soup kitchens.

We took a seat and enjoyed a beef hot pot and a Hanoi beer. We didn’t know it yet, but this was going to become our standard drink to most of the dinners we had. We sat quite a while, and soaked up the atmosphere. First impressions count, and so we let the sights, sounds and smells sink in. Maybe we were just too tired to lift our butts to get back to the hotel!

It ended up being 5 minutes to midnight before we went to sleep, but not without first setting the alarm clock for 6am. Good night…

Tomorrow, we are off to discover Hanoi and will . Stay tuned.

Over the next several weeks, I’ll be blogging about my recent trip to northern Vietnam. I will bring you day by day reports and illustrate them with a few photographs. Unlike most of my previous blogs, I won’t be doing this one in german and english, I’ll be sticking to english for the sake of ease…

I’ve blogged about the trip in previous posts, such as here, here, here and here, so if you want to get an intro to my photography gear, our trip route and other things, have a look at those posts.

We (my father and I) travelled to Vietnam from Zurich. We flew SWISS from Zurich to Bangkok, and onward with Thai Airways to Hanoi, arriving in Hanoi on the 16th of April in the evening. There, we were greeted by Hoang, our tour guide, and Manh, our driver. They took us into Hanoi and dropped us off at our hotel, the Viet Hotel, located just on the edge of the old part of town. The day-by-day trip report starting with our first full day in Hanoi I’ll start in my next blog entry.

At this point though, let me give a shout out to a few people. First, I’d like to extend my thanks to Tra, our travel consultant at Footprint Vietnam Travel. Tra and Footprint did an excellant job in organizing our trip, helping define the route and making really great suggestions and giving us tips. Besides that, Tra was extremely quick and efficient in responding to our mails filled with questions, and patient in answering all our inquiries. We had the privelage of meeting Tra in person and met someone bustling with enthusiasm for her job and her country, and a person who loved the tourism trade. Footprint deserves our highest recommendations.

The next person is Manh, our driver. He piloted our Ford Transit over the windiest, bumpiest, most washed-out roads I have ever seen – safe and sound. He stayed cool and calm through the craziest of Hanoi traffic, even after being on the road and away from his family for two weeks. And, he kept that good ol’ Transit clean’n'tidy and in good condition. We never had a hairy moment in all of the 2’000km we put behind us.

A huge applause and a recommendation for anyone going to Indochina must go to Hoang. Hoang was our tour guide and companion for two weeks. He was also a wealth of information and a source of inspiration when it comes to responsible and sustainable tourism. Hoang has many years of experience as a tour guide, and a great way to communicate with his clients and with the local people. From ensuring the food we got was cooked in clean kitchens to explaining which leaves are used for traditional medicine, the differences in clothing, colours and cultures of the different ethnic groups in Vietnam all the way to the recent and not so recent history of Vietnam, Hoang knew it all. Open minded and friendly, showing great patience when we wanted to stop for another photo-stop, we owe a great deal of what we learned about northern Vietnam to Hoang. Hoang has his own travel business, and if you are interested in this corner of the world, I suggest you look here for more information.

The final and biggest words of thanks go to our families for supporting our idea and encouraging us to go on this trip, even when the circumstances got a bit difficult. It was a great father-son experience that we will surely never forget. We owe that to the ones that missed us dearly for 15 days, and took the burdon of caring for the kids, gardens, dogs and all else alone for that time.

So, more will follow soon so stick around.

Thx

Nikon D700 / Sigma 70-200mm f/2.8G EX
Focal length: 200mm
Aperture: f/10
Shutter Speed: 1/200
ISO: 200
Exp. Compensation: none
GPS: N21°46.30′ // E104°16.14′