Originally written on October 25, 2004

The bus ride to Vientiane was uneventful, and a little longer than the ride to Vang Viang some 8? days earlier. In Vientiane, we stumbled upon a great buffet in a nice resturant for lunch. All you can eat Lao and sushi food, with chocolate milk too. The place was rammed, so we knew it was the right thing to do. After lunch we went to the Lao History museum.

The museum started out as a history of the ethnicity of the peoples, some dinosaur talk, geology and other typical museum stuff. Then it quickly turned into Communist propaganda and with displays on the workers, Lenin, and various ‘famous’ lao revolutionaries and the fight against the evil forces of the west and the ‘american puppets’ (boo capitalism). When we came out I didn’t know if I should call the guards ‘comrade’ or not.

With enough time killed we headed to Wattay Airport. We got there early, and wanted to make sure we got seats (you never know) and that they were beside each other. Then we waited watching BBC world until the flight boarded and took off. The plane was a large turbo prop. All I can say about the flight is that the sandwich was good (mystery meat) and the landing was unpleasant. With normal planes you sort of drift into the landing. It seems we just flew right into the runway, nose pointing slightly down till we started to bump along the runway. But we arrived in Hanoi safe and sound and that is what counts. After we landed and got of the plane onto the tarmac and walked to the waiting bus I noticed the ground crew inspecting the left engine. It looked more than a routine check to me….

Customs was interesting. This asian guy just flew in front of me and a few other westerners standing in line. We all put our elbows out after that. Heather saw a customs officer rip into a guy for not taking off his hat to greet him (we learned later taking off your hat to the elderly and officials is an important sign of respect). After clearing customs we were in our second Communist country, Vietnam. We were greeted by our driver sent from the Hotel. We exited the airport into the cool night air (really, it was nice and cool) and stepped into cushy leather seats of a new toyata. It even had seat belts! Wow safety! Once driving we noted the nice paved roads and street lights and started thinking that maybe this place was ’safe’. Wrong. Soon we noticed the lack of order on the roads. With the airport 35km out of town we gradually crept closer to the madness awaiting in Hanoi.

Our first clue came when the drive abruptly pulled a U turn in front of a bus on a highway. Then onto a gravel road. We thought we were going to go somewhere and have a talk about our money in some industrial setting… then the motorcycles started whizzing everywhere. Soon we realized there was no such thing as traffic lights here. Since we were in a car, most people on bikes had to get out of our way. However, bus we deferred too — and they expected it with insane amounts of honking.

Once we got into town we entered a traffic circle. It’s hard to explain what happened here. Some how we managed to plow through a sea (and I mean 100’s) of motorbikes and bicycles without hitting them or other vehicles hitting us. Even the driver made a sound which I considered to be the english equivalent of ‘oh my god’. Imagine a whale swimming through a school of fish or maybe a snake going through the grass. It was like the motorcycles opened up just in front of us and closed in just behind us as we slowly went through. You could hear nothing but the roar of engines and the persistent sounds of continuous honking.

A few turns later we arrived at our hotel, a narrow shoe box like structure. The room was nice and our view looked out onto another stairwell. They didn’t have a double for us that night so we took two singles. Heather enjoyed her first bath in many weeks and I wondered why there aren’t shower curtains in SE asia. With a firm mattress, we fell fast asleep hoping for a nice long sleep after a day of travel from the middle of now where to a black hole of motorcycles. Very strange.

Hanoi - sometime it is more like Haannoying, but I’m sure it’s only to Western folks. The Vietnamese attract customers by blasting music from their shops over the sound of vehicular vrooms and constant honking. The honking is constant, like breathing, day and night. We will record the sound so you will have an idea of what the hotel room sounds like dimm honking sounds in comparison to the crazy streets. The first night it was difficult to mellow in the bath, as the bathroom and the bedroom (two separate rooms) had the sound of the main floor (people chatting and walking up and down the stairs). A dinner of Heineken (all of your vitamins and nutrients) helped to ease the sleeping process. Night, loud sounds and a strange city prevented us from searching for a restaurant.