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.