Arthur Bett Court: Roof, rainwater, fire safety, security, carpets

Wall in car park has various cracks.I am very concerned about the ongoing water damage to an important structural element. 

Perhaps an email could be sent reminding people not to do this.

First block door has been insecure for many years.  Completely unacceptable.

Trip hazard in first block

Broken/missing glazed panels in first block.  This is a fire safety issueI emailed about this in 2022!

More glazed panel woes

Front left of building, down pipe missing a section

Front middle, drip from down pipe.  Ice hazard

Side road Down pipe blocked and risk of water ingress/damp/mould 

Car park Down pipe missing a section

Car park Down pipe missing a section.  Water soaking into structural element.

Car park  Down pipe cover missing

Car park Down pipe cover missing

Gutters blocked by moss

The kindness of strangers. Sometimes we're the stranger

A little bit of history. I grew up watching news reports from Vietnam in the 60's and 70's from a war I didn't understand. It was just one of many wars. Far away, fought in black and white by well fed soldiers against what was presented as a land of peasants. On my birthday in 1975, a tank smashed through the gates of the presidential palace and it was all over. Vietnam dropped off my radar. Living and working in France in the 80's and 90's, we were looking to adopt. We had beautiful biological children, but room for more. Getting approved in France was very easy, but, as foreigners, it was made clear that we would wait forever to adopt. "These are French children for French couples to adopt". So be it. I can see we have different views about who the benefit of adoption is for. But, our approval was worldwide. We could adopt from abroad. Looking at the conditions for different countries, we found some where having biological children was a bar, some where we were too old, some with residency requirements that would be hard to meet, and some where a whole new approval would need to be done in country. "How about Vietnam?" I said. "Where did that come from?" I wondered. Vietnam did indeed tick all the boxes. And so, in 1997, I flew to Vietnam to investigate. I'm just going for a look and if it's some shady business where people are asking for money, I'm done with this.

I arrived, alone, jetlagged and tired. This was pre-internet in Vietnam, so I kept in touch with back home at $5 a page for faxes. And, I hated Vietnam. It was too hot, too humid, there were smells I didn't like, it was too noisy, and I just didn't understand anything. I'm sure I must have had a little cry. And that always makes things better. I had a hand drawn map that a French couple who had been through the process had drawn with good advice scribbled about a few restaurants, which taxis to take (Festival? Remember them?). Marked on the map outside my hotel down an alley in D3, was Mr J. Mr J was an interesting character. An educated man with good French and a liking for fairly violent French detective fiction, Mr J had served in the Army of the Republic of Vietnam. I don't know if he was a good soldier, he was such a gentle man it was hard to imagine him as a soldier at all. In any case, when I was having my birthday in Liverpool back in 1975, he was being sent off for re-education. Now, he eked out a living on the street mending bicycles and occasionally motorbike punctures. Always cheerful and with time to chat - business was never very good - I felt a little less alone. And so it was on my third day in Vietnam, I woke up, had breakfast and went out to face the day. Rain overnight had cleared the air. The sky was blue, I had a "Bonjour" from Mr J and I was in love with Vietnam. The heat, the smell, the noise? I laugh in their face. I am above such things. As Bernard Ullman said, "Sometimes a man can lose his heart to a place."

I make my way out to one of the well known orphanages to make myself known. Run by Catholic nuns. We have the language of Voltaire in common, but we don't have a common understanding. "Ces enfants sont destinés à être adoptés par des couples sans enfant". I can see we have different views about who the benefit of adoption is for. I drink lots of tea and tell them I will be back tomorrow. Back at the hotel, I write out an impassioned argument that adoption isn't about the needs of the parents, it's about the needs of the child and we can offer much to a child. Faxed back home for $5, it comes back translated into flowing French much more eloquent than mine. I call in at the orphanage the next day, drink lots more tea and give my letter to the nun in charge to read. I think we have reached an understanding. We can come back to Vietnam with our paper work all certified and apostilled as required and she will see what she can do. I have got as far as I hoped on this visit.

And so, over the course of several more visits and several more years, we adopted two young boys from Vietnam, E in 1998 and M in 2001 and Vietnam became a place I would explore and re-visit with them and alone as they grew up. This is my 26th visit and I'm beginning to understand a little of the country.

On again to the more recent past. 2015 and I was back in Vietnam with my younger son M (14). He was spending some time with friends in Hong Kong and would fly down to join me later. I was having fun cycling around the delta. Well, it was ridiculously hot, but I was telling myself I was having fun. I would be back in Sài Gòn in time to meet him. I wended my way down to Đất Mũi, the most southerly point on the mainland. I'd now done North and South and maybe I would need to look at East and West.

Back in Saigon, we settle in to enjoy the delights of the city. Great food. Beer with ice in it. Well, for me. Sting for M. Wandering down the once a canal, now pedestrianized, Nguyễn Huệ, we are approached by two young ladies keen to practice their English. "If you're selling something, we're not interested." "We're not." I've read all the warnings about scammers in Vietnam and am being my usual careful self. Fool me once...won't get fooled again. The extensive probity check formalities thus concluded, we chat English as I have done hundreds of times over the years. As I get older, I enjoy spending time with young people. Youth is wasted on the young, they say. They're wrong. But it does become a foreign country and one can never go back, only look in through the window. We arrange to meet one of them, A, for coffee next day. I pick Trầm Cafe, one of hundreds of cool cafes in Saigon. We meet up for coffee and chat. A is 21, working in a hotel and struggling to support her mother and the daughter of her recently deceased sister on a very tight budget, even by Vietnam's standards. Family is important in Vietnam, and it's common for people to make sacrifices here that nobody here in the '1st world' would ever consider taking on. She seems a genuine, serious caring young lady being slowly crushed under a burden too heavy for her shoulders and with few easy options. Knowing I have adopted children, she asks questions and says she is considering whether that might be the best or only option for her niece. We swap email adresses and say we will stay in touch.

Next day, I check out what I can find out about A online. Nothing seems to contradict anything she said. Exhaustive background checks thus completed, I message my long suffering wife back home - no longer by $5 fax - and say I'd like to send $100 a month to a girl I have just met and barely know in Vietnam. Ever reliable, she sees this as a perfectly normal thing to do. I am sure many wives would have had many more questions. I message A to propose this. She is moved to tears as I am by her reply.

And so it goes. Just 7 and a half years later, out of the blue, I get another message from A via my wife to say that she is now able to stand on her own two feet and that my $100 a month should now go to someone else who needs it. She is making a good salary now and can manage on her own. The niece is now in the final year of high school. Again there are tears at either end of the exchange. I feel extraordinarly lucky to have been presented with a once in a lifetime opportunity to be in the right place at the right time. And that, for once, I did the right thing.

And, now, in the present, the hugs we've been waiting 7 years for. We're both 7 years older and A, at least, is 7 years wiser. And there, before me for the first time is a 17 year old girl I've never met but whose life I have been privileged to touch.

I guess that what I am saying is that if you are ever lucky enough to have the stars align and present you with such an opportunity, use both hands to grab it.

Part 8: A Walk on the Wild Side : back to Hoàng Su Phì.

Back to Part 7

As we walk through the airport, a young student from the flight from Pleiku chats to me, asking what had taken me to Pleiku.  At the end, I ask her if she has spoken to many tourists there.  "You're the second."  "Today?"  "Ever."  11,000 foreign visitors to Gia Lai province in 2019, so they must be keeping a low profile. For sure, I'll be going back there next time.  Looked like great cycling country for my time of life.  And they have coffee.

Safely delivered once more by the 86 bus from Nội Bài. A little less crowded and a little more masky than last time, I reluctantly go with the majority. Freshen up at the hotel and go out to meet a good friend I've never seen before. Head on up to the Bia Hơi place at the top of Bát Đàn. Recognize them straight away. Scott is a fellow Vietnam enthusiast and is touring with his wife, Lisa. I didn't bring mine. Secret of a happy marriage. Travel solo.  Many bia later and the world set a right, I stroll back to my hotel ready for my last full day in Hà Nội.

Got a shopping list from my children. Hammocks, chopsticks, Sting. Only the Hammocks cause me any problem. I do a couple of tours of Chợ Đồng Xuân keeping my eyes open. There is a lot less tourist tat here compared to Bến Thành in Sài Gòn. Can't find any hammocks. I ask the chop stick seller. She tells me to look on  Phố Hàng Chiếu.  On the left.  I'm a little sad that my practice opportunities for speaking Tiếng Việt are running out and I'll be starting at a lower level next time as usual.  Sigh.  Sure enough there's a shop on the left.  Selling hammocks.  Selling only hammocks as far as I can see.  Sting is easy. Back at the hotel, my bag fills up.

I wander the streets soaking in the sights. There is a school of thought that the average Hanoian is less open and friendly that folks from further south. Never been my experience and I never tire of my time there.  And I always have to drag myself away.  Final meal at KOTO Villa with Diệp. 

 Know One Teach One.  Seems to be working out.

Last day in Hà Nội. All packed up first thing and out to say goodbye to Hà Nội. I wander the streets and back alleys. Is there another city in the world like this?

They say you can get beer here.	I know you can get coffee here.
Hanoi is a strange mixture of elegance and decay, bustle and tranquillity.
A little tlc needed.	Looking good.
A little tlc needed.	Looking good.

Time for a final coffee. I want to try somewhere new. Well, new to me. I head for Càfê Lính.

 

Càfê Lính has a huge collection of the things they left behind.

And a fine line in coffee.

Finally, it's time to head back to the hotel

 

Hà Nội being Hà Nội.

Jon Swain recalls meeting Bernard Ullman, a (then) old (then) Indo-China hand, on first arriving in the region in 1970:

 Indo-China is a like a beautiful woman. She overwhelms you and you never quite understand why. Sometimes a man can lose his heart to a place, one that lures him back again and again.

I plead guilty as charged.

Then it's rewind back to the airport on the 86, to an 8½ hour layover in Istanbul. Who on earth booked these flights? Finally, I see the Forth Rail Bridge through the mist. There's been a lot of water under that bridge since I went over it. And I've walked 282km. 

Switch back to my UK SIM, ignoring the many notifications and call my wife for transport.  Walking across the tarmac to the terminal (I know it's 2022, but apparently, this is still a thing in Edinburgh). 

 A young man asks me if I know where to go. "Sure," I said, "Follow me."  By the time we get to passport control (he goes his way, I go my way), I know that he's from Kenya. "Ah, where Obama was born.", I say. We laugh. My first opportunity to make that joke. Maybe he'd heard it before. He's heading for Stirling University to do an M.Sc. in finance.  And he's never flown before. By the time we're waiting for our bags, I know that he doesn't get his student accommodation until two days later and has £100 to tide him over until then. I surreptitiously check on booking for hostels or a cheap hotel. He's going to struggle to get anywhere to stay. He's probably going to struggle to get to Stirling. Finally our bags come out. Through Customs and head for the pick up point. Wife and son turn up. Wife is unfazed by our unexpected two day house guest.   Be not inhospitable to strangers, lest they be angels in disguise  Sometimes, as in Vietnam, we're the stranger, but never pass up a chance to try out for the other role.

 It's good to be home.

Part 7: A Walk on the Wild Side : back to Hoàng Su Phì

Back to Part 6

Kiss goodbye to the luxury that is the Majestic hotel with their hot water and sumptuous breakfasts. Grab bike to the airport, VietJetAir on time to Pleiku, Grab bike to my hotel carefully chosen to be close to a good looking vegetarian restaurant run by Buddhist nuns. All perfectly executed. Bag dropped and off to explore. The given address is a building under renovation. A little sad and more than a little hungry, I consult the happy cow and it seems like Tăng Bạt Hổ Street is the place to be. Nine vegetarian restaurants within 100m. Nine! Count them.

There are many like it, but this one is mine

The first one I try is so good, cheap and welcoming that the others remain untried. Only two magic words are needed here. Ăn cơm. 15k. Hard to complain about the price and there's nothing to complain about in terms of quality.

A poster of 'famous' people adorns the wall. With the text "Thông Minh xinh đẹp, tài năng. Họ là những người trường chay. Tại sao bạn lại không?"

Smart, beautiful, talented?

As I ate, I played a Snog, Marry, Avoid type game as I tried to categorize the celebrities into Smart, Beautiful, Talented. Only King Charles and Arnie failed to qualify in any category.

I have come to Pleiku with little research. Good coffee and never having been here before were reason enough. I check online for the top attractions. Chư Đăng Ya Volcano comes in at number 2. That sounds good.

I head back to the market and find a xe ôm, rapidly conclude negotiations and we're off. 30 km out of town. This would be a great place to explore by bicycle. I make a mental note for next time. Lovely countryside and interesting looking villages.

Cycling country for old men

My xe ôm seems to have no idea on how to get to the local volcano and we take a little longer than necessary to get there. In his defence, it isn't a large volcano and it's not been active for quite some time. Finally we arrive at the carpark. Like everything in Pleiku, this looks more than large enough to cope with the demand. Entrepreneurs are selling cold drinks and offering a ride on the back of a dirt bike up and down the muddy track to the top for 50k. I leave my xe ôm to settle down for a chat and am whisked to the top behind a young lady completely unfazed by the bike slithering beneath us in the mud.

Dirt track to the top

Pleiku's number 2 attraction

Slither back down on a bike behind a young man and settle down for a drink after the excitement. They have a lot of cold beer, but eventually find me a soft drink. We play guess your age. I underestimate theirs. They underestimate mine. It looks as if there is a definite best time of year for the volcano, and this is maybe not it, but it was worth the trip.

Back into town, I pay off my xe ôm and he invites me for a coffee in the back of the watch repair shop where there is a den. A glass of coffee is produced. Perfect. An open tin of condensed milk. Perfect. He dips his hands into a coolbox and brings them out full. "Bạn có muốn đá không?" I'm fine without ice. He offers to drop me off anywhere in town. Free. But, I like walking. Grab has taken away the human interaction that was common with xe ôm and we've lost something along the way.

As I often do, I visit the Martyrs' Cemetery. Here thousands of mainly young martyrs are buried. The place is immaculately kept.

Part 6: A Walk on the Wild Side : back to Hoàng Su Phì

Back to Part 5

Sán Sả Hồ​ seems like the perfect place for one last night. One apparent homestay and very little else. Lovely countryside along the way.

Goldener every day

I arrive in Sán Sả Hồ at 11:30 as school comes out. My google navigation goes to 0m outside a house. No sign to say it's a homestay, but there's no other obvious candidates.

I go in. Lovely people. Tea is served. The mother goes off, leaving me to drink my tea. I chat with the heavily pregnant daughter. Family. My solo walking activities. She says something I can't quite catch. I give her the phone to google translate. From the ether, the google voice intones, somewhat wistfully I thought, "Don't you have any friends?". I collapse with laughter. In reality, more every day. I have a nap and go explore the area. Google congratulates me on my heart workout.

Weeks worth of excercise done by Monday afternoon

I had lunch, dinner, a place to sleep and breakfast. The mother has gone to work. I ask the daughter how much I owe. She doesn't know. Can we phone your mother? She knows the number, but she says she doesn't use the phone. Maybe they're not talking. I don't know. Another phone call. I say I am leaving and ask what I owe. 200k. A bargain. I will come here again. Maybe I could give them some marketing tips. Start with a sign, maybe.

My shortcuts on the way back to Su Phì only add a few extra km to the trek back, which is not at all unusual. I stop off at the same drinks place down near the bridge as on the way up. The lady is pleased to see me. When will you be back? "Năm sau". Her face lights up. It's a beautiful smile. She tells the old couple all about me. It's not coffee country up here, but I can live with that. And now, I'll have to come back. They're expecting me.

All too soon, I am back in Hoàng Su Phì. There is a bus for Hà Giang getting ready to go. I have walked 180km since getting off the bus here and it is probably starting to show. I get a drink and change my socks, and shirt as I try to look just a little more respectable. The bus does the usual beetling round town picking up goods and people and we're off back down the hill. Once down on the QL2 highway the complicated transhipment dance begins again until suddenly it's my turn. Jump off one bus and on to another bus I am whisked back to Mỹ Đình and catch a Grab bike back to my usual hotel. Left Sán Sả Hồ​ at 07:35, arrived at my hotel in Hanoi 22:26. I call that pretty good.

I'm already missing Su Phì. Sleep like a log.

Breakfast from my usual bánh mì place, then off to buy some new clothes. Hot shower and change and I feel like a new man. And coffee. Days since I've had a coffee. Down to Blue Dragon to meet up with the now recovered Hoa and hand over some cash from my daughter. We have a long chat.

Off to Sài Gòn tomorrow to spend some time with an old friend. Hà Nội is fairly unscathed by the pandemic. Let's see how Sài Gòn has fared.

The 86 bus has a stop just across from my hotel - that's why I first stayed there. 45 minutes later I'm back at the airport.

At checkin, I am directed to a very short queue.

Didn't ask my age. Maybe took me for a revolutionary...

VietJetAir didn't care that my name was the wrong way round. There's something about their website that leads me to get it wrong more often than not. On time and great to be back in Sài Gòn.

Bus into town. Sài Gòn seems to have suffered more than Hà Nội with closed up shops plastered in for sale/rent signs. But it's still bustling. Masks seem more popular here. I go with the flow, joining in when necessary.

Opportunities abound if you have the cash

Quieter than before

But Vietnam will recover. It always does. After the rain, it shines.

180,000 đồng for a beer I don't think we're in Su Phì any more

Maybe I was paying for the view

Great to see another longstanding friend again. Lunch at Hum, drinks at Landmark 81, Dinner at the Loving Hut and lordy, how we talked. A lot of catching up to do. A lot of catching up done.

Wherever I lay my hat...

I still have a couple of days to fill. Where can I go? Where haven't I been before? Hmm. Pleiku. That's coffee country. Perfect.

On to Part 7