Today wasn’t exactly busy. I went for a wander to the supermarket with an Irish guy who now lives in Belgium. Earlier he’d been for a walk for lunch and got talking to some Vietnamese – in German! He was heading for Sapa in the evening and needed some supplies for the train. I accidentally bought several bags of crisps and some sweets for myself. Whoops.

After I got back, Fiona was wandering down to the Post Office. Rather than sit on the couch and veg, I had a walk down with her and met another English couple there who seemed to be sending a substantial amount of Vietnam back home in a box. The staff here are very helpful, packaging everything securely for a small fee, and helping with the multitude of documents required. Lunch was a gorgeous BLT sandwich and a rather unusual “Italian” fruit drink which was incredibly sweet and had cream in it. Nice, though.

Shortly after we got back, a Korean girl who had recently arrived came through the door in tears. Some motorbike driver had ripped her off using the age-old technique of bullying someone smaller than himself. He took it upon himself to wait for her as she went round the Ho Chi Minh mausoleum and grounds, then decided he’d show her the Old Quarter on the way back – she wanted to come straight to the hostel.

Eventually, he parked up in front of the opera house where there were no tourists or police and tried to up his initial 30,000d quote to 170,000d! Eventually, her cries and the fact that he was physically grabbing her, brought the attention of some locals who bartered him down to 90,000 on her behalf. Shaken, she walked back to the hostel in the heat to be greated by Michael and myself.

After a glass of iced water and someone to blub it all out to, she seemed a lot better. Telling her about all the bad luck the Danes have had seemed to help! Although she booked separately, her and the Irish/Belgian guy departed to Sapa together. They’ll be apart on the train but in the same group when they get there and I’m sure he’ll keep an eye out for her.

I pretty much sat on my backside the rest of the night. With great joy, I managed to get BBC Radio Newcastle online and listened to their match commentary as we won 3-0 away from home in the Intertoto. A couple of startled people jumped at the PCs when I yelled with each goal!

 Today I had a day “off” from playing… I mean working with the kids. Last night I’d got talking to a girl called Fiona from “Harrow-gate” (she’s a bit posh) who’d had an interesting evening.

After arriving in Hanoi, she’d decided to go out for dinner by herself. On the way back a tall Nigerian guy tried to chat her up and insisted on walking her around several bars and so on to “make sure she was safe”. Apparently he’s a professional footballer and was trying to get her to go to his hotel room so he could show her his passport as proof.

I mentioned this to Max this morning, and he said that the guy probably was a footballer! Many come over here on the promise of a decent wage (couple of thousand dollars a month), then don’t make the grade and cannot afford to fly home.

While she was out with him, she used an internet cafe (ours was down at the hostel) and lost an hour’s-worth of typing when the PC crashed. She stormed off without paying… and without a bag of books that she needed.

 Today’s first task was to retrieve the books. This wasn’t too easy as Fiona wasn’t that sure about where the cafe was, apart from “near the lake”. Amazingly, after only an hour or so, we found it. I popped in and the books were sat on a shelf. I grabbed them and legged it.

We then had a day to kill, so we had a brief wander round the streets (the lantern shop street is very pretty) then caught two bikes up to the Tran Quoc Pagoda – the oldest in Hanoi. This was Fiona’s first time on the back of a bike, but she seemed to enjoy it. Either that or she was screaming, I’m not sure.

The second we got there, we were surrounded by people trying to sell us fans, postcards, fruit… And the pagoda was shut. The guidebook didn’t mention any times, but it seems common for museums and so forth to be closed from 11:00 to 13:30, so we decided to wander around a bit. Fortunately, the West Lake are really is pleasant. Less traffic than Hoan Kiem and more trees, flowers and grass.

Up the side of the lake, we found a small cafe (go past the statue of the revolutionary towards the lake, turn left, follow the dirt path, past the rat with it’s stomach hanging out and you’re there) where we had a couple of lemon juices and I had a lovely bowl of vegetable soup. Grand total, 70p or thereabouts. Quality.

It was approaching 13:30 so we walked back to the Pagoda and it was indeed open. A small boy decided that we were going to buy some postcards from him and went through every single one he had, counting them out in batches of ten.

 “One dollar – ten postcards!”

Eventually, he trailed off with a “You buy from me later, yes?” and we walked around the peaceful surroundings. It seems some people live in the pagoda and we stumbled upon their house. We were brusquely shown the correct path to take and walked into the altar area where a handful of people were praying.

In honesty, there was not a lot to see, but it is a lovely building. The roofing was being worked on when we were there and it’s good to see that it is so well looked after.

We made the decision to walk back to the hostel rather than getting a bike. This involved guessing where south was and walking that way until we found something we recognised. Or something I recognised as, in fairness, Fiona had really only seen a small part of Hanoi and that at night.

Two hours. In baking heat. But we made it back. On the way we passed a statue of “V.I.LEN IN” (Vietnamese seem to divide a lot of names into two words) and some fairly official-looking buildings. Finally, I realised we were on Hai Ba Trung (though I guessed the wrong end) and we popped into the shopping centre just up from it for Fiona to get some sun cream.

Suntan lotion / sunblock is hard to get in Vietnam. They sell it, but it only comes in tiny containers – enough for you to use on your face. Vietnamese work on the assumption that it makes more sense to wear long sleeves and trousers than smear cream on, and they don’t go to the beach to sunbathe. So Fiona ended up with four dinky containers with factor 50 cream in them.

As seems traditional, I took her up to the City View where she made her way through three shakes and a bottle of water (we had been walking for ages) and I had a beer before we went back to the hostel.

Warning – boring techie bit

The internet was still chuffed (two days) when we got back, but later in the afternoon someone came from Viet Tel to fix it. This he duly did only he didn’t check it properly before he left. I wasn’t watching, but I think he reset the router and then re-entered the passwords. I have a feeling one of these had been changed, but as we couldn’t log into the router itself to check what the error was, I couldn’t fix it. We now have the password for the router so can check in future.

However, when he did this, it sorted three of the PCs that are connected by cable. One PC and my laptop, i.e. those on wireless, weren’t working after he went. I had a dig and realised that rather than one router, over time they’ve been supplied with a cabled router, a hub (utterly unecessary) and a second router for wireless. A dig on the internet got me the default username/password for the wireless router, I logged in and it was on a different subnet from the newly-configured cabled router. Quick change, two “repair”s on the wireless machines and we were back in business. My next task is to remove the pointless cabled boxes and leave just the wireless one.

Back to boring day-to-day bit

 I was also called in to burn some CDs as the one here has broken down. Someone was asking Max who said they could have a free blank disc, but he couldn’t help with the burning. I could. Free beer from the hostel owner for keeping the punters happy!

Fiona and I then went for the belly-busting pizza buffet for dinner. I managed two margheritas before they guessed that was all I liked and started putting different types out. Damn them!

On Max’s advice, we then headed for the very posh Melia hotel for a “Mamba Night” with a live band. Free entry, free Bacardi shots, horrendously expensive bar. By the third drink, we were collecting our funds together to see if we could afford another drink. Rather embarassing with the cigar-chomping brigade walking around!

The band were great, though rather loud, so we spent most of the night out on the balcony where it was warmer but quieter. Most of the rest of the guests had the same idea. We met Max’s wife, a lovely Vietnamese woman called Ann. She runs a company called Hidden Hanoi who take tourists round areas of the city you can’t see too easily (as the name suggests!).

It was a great night, but really dented my wallet. Between this and the chocolate fest, I’ve spent far too much the last couple of days. Purse strings will be drawn tighter!

As an aside, I heard from one of my old neighbours back home. Her patio window exploded due to the heat this week. The glazier who came out to do the work said he’d had several similar calls recently. I’m glad I’m over here where it’s only 35 degrees! 

 I checked out my room this morning and it smelled of soggy cabbage. On mentioning it to the staff on the front desk they said they’d make a call and by mid-afternoon it was fixed and the temperature back down to a much more civilised 17 degrees. Champion!

The morning was spent loafing around downstairs, looking at maps of the surrounding area with Mike and Max, the owners. Just around Hanoi there is enough to see to last you a month if you can get around on your own moped. I really have to come back here sometime.

Maps and trips were the topic of a social conversation as the internet had died overnight. The ISP tried to say that the problem was areawide and it would be back up by the afternoon – the same tale they’d spun the last time. The last time this happened, it was off for two days. Internet cafes aren’t anywhere near as prevalent around here are they are in either Bangkok or Auckland, but I managed to quickly check my mail when I got to Blue Dragon.

 Today’s lesson was a little more of a struggle as the kids I had were more “playful” when it comes to computers and were prone to wandering off down little tracks of their own. Still, we managed to get two more web pages done and I showed them the pictures of me sitting with Tigers in Kanchanaburi. They were quite impressed!

Eamonn and the Irish group were all leaving today and someone had told us about an “eat all you can” diabetic chocolate buffet at the Sofitel. This sounded too good to be true so we had to give it a shot. We met there are 3pm and wandered into another world.

Sofitel are pretty posh places and this was no exception. Plodding around in my sweaty sandals, shorts and t-shirts I felt out of the place for the first time in weeks. Never mind, there was chocolate to be had and the staff didn’t bat an eyelid at this scruffy traveller amongst their otherwise shirt-clad clientele. nEven Eamonn had dressed for the occasion in a long-sleeved shirt.

 We took our seats and were presented with a menu. Talking ourselves out of the champagne wasn’t too difficult as it was $US260 a bottle for the good stuff (heck, water was $US2.50 – it’s 50c in the hostel). We ordered the buffet and our complimentary tea was delivered and poured. And delicious. The first cup of non-Liptons I’ve had since I got here.

Enough messing about. Chocolate was calling. Loudly. And in a very posh Belgian accent.

This place had it all. A chocolate fountain. Fresh fruit on sticks to place under it (pineapple, melon, kiwi fruit, raspberries…). Chocolate orange with real strips of orange inside. Truffles. Cookies. Little cakes. Sauces. Ice cream. Mousse (white and dark). Individual chocolates: ganache, praline, ginger, caramel, marzipan, coffee…

You name it, they probably had it. The ice cream in particular was divine. You could taste the chocolate and the cream in each mouthful. I hate to think how much we ate but it was enough to make us ill. I like to think I counteracted all the fat with a healthy plate of raspberries to finish. However, I still ate about as many calories in one sitting as I have since I arrived in Vietnam and my arteries must have been hardening faster than quick-dry cement.

The grand total was a shade under $US10 each ($8 + service charge + VAT) and worth it simply for the experience alone. I need to chck out how much the hotel costs for a night, just out of curiosity. This must be one of the cheapest ones worldwide.

After that, dinner just wasn’t going to happen. Breakfast would be the next meal after a night spent loafing around in reception and up on the roof watching DVDs. 

Today’s class at Blue Dragon was a challenge. Again, I had no translator, but again the children were fantastic. Armed only with my Lonely Planet phrase book (which has about one word in twenty that I try to look up) and an ability to mime and repeat myself that all British tourists are born with, we managed to battle through. I honesty, when you try to explain something for five minutes and finally the little Vietnamese light bulbs click on the sense of achievement is immense.

Essentially, all I did was get them to use the things I’d taught them last week. I got them to pick their favourite football team and change the page title to match it. Next was to add a table (as soon as I said “table” they knew how to add one) and pick their best players – any players. That was probably the hardest part. Eventually I found the word “manager/director” in the phrasebooks and told them that they were the manager of their club and they could pick any players they wanted.

The table was filled in and then I loaded Paint on each machine. Now… how to tell them to design a new logo for their club…? I pointed to Paint, pointed to my tattoo (for those who don’t know, I have a Newcastle United badge on my left arm) and said “moi” (mur-ee).

Lightbulbs lit.

For twenty minutes, they beavered away making new flags for Real Madrid, Man U and Brazil. These were then duly converted into the right format and added to the web page – again, as soon as they figured what I was after they did it as if they’d been using Dreamweaver for years. Class!

A long class, but the best so far. Same again tomorrow!

Today, the Danish girls left for Bangkok. From there, they’re heading for a dinky island off the east coast and then back home again. I hope they enjoyed their stay here and also have a great time in Thailand!

I chilled in the afternoon and, after giving up on two of the in-house DVDs that were scratched to hell, Watched Cars – it rocks. Now, it looks like a copy from a DVD, the quality is that good. However, it’s obviously recorded at a cinema as roughly halfway through, and announcer pipes up “We apologise for the interruption, but would the Henderson family please collect their child from the concession booth?”. Despite this (and the end credits being lopped off), it was a cracking film – much better than I’d reckoned it would be. I’ll pick up the “proper” version when I get back, just to keep Mr Lassiter happy!

Max came wandering in with a doorstep that was doing a good impression of a very nice sandwich. The only sandwich shop I know of in the area is No Noodles and it’s closed down, so we asked for directions and headed off. Without these we would never have spotted it. The entrance is a tiny doorway next to a silk shop with an obscured sign above it. 15 yards down a tone corridor is a flight of steps and the cafe is up there. As soon as you step inside, the scruffiness ends and a lovely wooden cafe appears. Polished floors, solid tables, humorous menus, comfy seats. Really, really nice. A little hidden gem.

Eamonn and I had chicken and bacon salad sandwiches – top notch, though a little pricey. Still, you have to pay for quality. We were even sat down with a glass of iced water while we waited for the food to be prepared.

A fair few people arrived tonight and I ended up at the Pho place again, this time with three young girls from England still wide-eyed at their first view of Asia. Once more, the food was enjoyed and they couldn’t believe how little it had cost.

The only downside today was that the aircon in my room died. It had been ropey for a couple of days, but during the day it seemed to decide that it should pump out air at room temperature and start to smell of damp cabbage. I crashed in the room opposite as there was a spare bed, and the temperature was a lovely 17 degrees.

I mentioned yesterday about Ryan “Killer” MacDonald being a great name for a thriller writer. Well, he had his own thrills today. He’s doing voluntary work for a foundation that is helping Vietnamese who are suffering from the ongoing effects of Agent Orange used in the Vietnam War – effects that the US government as recently as a month ago declared were “coincidental” and couldn’t be proven as being their fault.

The foundation is a fair bit out of the Old Quarter, so he uses a motorcycle taxi to get there similarly to my trip to Blue Dragon most days. Today, he had a conversational driver who asked where he was from. “America.”

Screech

The driver pulled over and started screaming at him to get off. His family had all been killed in the war and, perhaps understandably, he had a little bit of a grievance against Americans as a result. Ryan tried to offer him the agreed fare regardless, but the driver pulled a knife on him. Sensible lad, Ryan walked off and got another motorbike.

It just seems ironic, and a little sad, that one of the few Americans who’s going to the trouble of helping people is one who gets painted with the same brush as the people running his country. Happily, though, he wasn’t hurt. But in future he’s going to tell people he’s Canadian!

Blue Dragon-wise, I took Kat and Brit up today to see how things worked. Brit had spent some time in India last year teaching small children and she was curious to see how the places compared. This was also to be the first time for both girls on the back of a motorbike. And they ended up sharing the back of one!

The drive was one of the most interesting I’ve had in a while, partly as I had to keep looking behind me to ensure the girls’ bike wasn’t getting lost behind us. The “highlight” of the ride was watching a man defrost a dog (or so it seemed) on the roadside. He had a pile of paper resting against what looked like a frozen (or rigor-mortified) dog and was fanning the flames gently. One of the girls suggested that maybe he was trying to burn the hair off it – quite possible.

When we got there, the two bikers tried to fleece us for more money as “Hong Ha very long road” but we’d agreed before we set off and they knew how far up they were taking us. As it was, they netted 30,000d for three people on two bikes which isn’t bad money by any stretch.

I left the girls with Skye and some of the other staff as I did a very short class with Tho’s help. When I got back to Building Five, they were surrounded by children and the cutest little girl you ever saw was wandering round with Brit’s camera, a look of intense concentration on her face as she walked around making a video.

The Danes had been invited to watch some of the afternoon’s drama class so I politely hung around to wait for them… and then got roped in. The kids (and the Danes!) had a whale of a time for the half hour or so of the 2-hour lesson we stayed. Both girls were really impressed with the way things were run – I hope they spread the word back home, or even return to do some work in the future.

Kat and Brit to BDCF. Saw dog being cooked on way up. Their first time on bike. Drama class.

We moped’d back to Hoan Kiem Lake (and again had to tell them we were only going to pay the agreed fare) where the girls went off bag-shopping. Or purse shopping. Something girly anyway. I had spotted a DVD shop selling Cars the other night so decided to go and hunt it out. As ever, I ended up with a pile of DVDs rather than just the one I set out for. Ah, well.

While I was digging through the discs, a Vietnames man with a carrier bag sat down next to me. “Excuse me,” he said, pulling a brush from his bag, “Clean shoes?”

I pointed out the fact that I was wearing sandals and they didn’t polish too well.

“Oooooh, they broken. See?”

He pointed at two spots on my (perfectly functional) sandals, digging his finger in.

“Me stitch. Stitch? Fix them?”

It took over 2 minutes of “No – they’re fine” before he gave up and walked off, shaking his head at the mad foreigner who’s sandals were going to spontaneously combust.

Tara set off this afternoon for Beijing. Two and a half days on a train. Fortunately, another woman from the hostel was also making the same trip so she had a travelling companion. Unfortunately, there had been floods and landslides across southern China due to heavy rain which was affecting the train services. Tara has my email so I hope to hear from both of them at some point when they reach their destination.

More bad news as the two Danish guys who fell of their motorbikes left their bag in a taxi. It contained their camera, money, one passport, tickets… you name it. But what can I say – they were still smiling. The staff at the hostel were their usual superb selves and one of them went to the police station with them to help report it. Without a local translator this would have been nigh-on impossible. In fairness, they don’t expect to get the things back but they need certain paperwork from the authorities to obtain replacements.

Tonight’s Pho Bo and Bia Hoi was with a smattering of Brits and Irish who all arrived today. As ever, the food was thoroughly enjoyed and the Bia Hoi experience an eye-opener. It’s a great introduction to Hanoi – the price and the quality. OK, maybe not the quality as far as the Bia Hoi goes.

In addition, a friend back home emailed me details of a chance in New Zealand to see a live Kakapo in its natural environment. As luck would have it, it’s just off Stewart Island and from August until late September. A place and a time that perfectly suit my return to New Zealand. I’ve been in touch with the organisers and have a priority booking. I just need to sort an exact date with them.

For those who don’t know, the Kakapo is a very rare bird. Only 86 are left alive and all live on two small islands off the coast of Stewart Island. They were moved their by conservationists after rats managed to get onto Stewart Island and began killing the birds and their eggs. You see, unusually for a parrot – uniquely, in fact – the Kakapo is flightless.

The opportunity to see one of the rarest of birds, up close, is one I just can’t resist. The trip is only $NZ80, though I have to make my own way to Stewart Island. The bird in question, Scirroco, is being moved to a third island where he will live for 6 weeks or so while nosey people like me get to see him. He has been hand-reared so will not be uncomfortable being near people.

If I can get to Indonesia, as planned, and see the Komodo Dragons then I’ll have seen two species from Last Chance To See in their natural habitats. Sadly, I think I’ll struggle very much with some of the others.