1/19/10: Hanoi, Vietnam
With every end there is a new beginning and with every new beginning something is bound to go wrong. Today marked both an end and a beginning, both of which deserve a mention in the blog.
The end was that of Southeast Asia (“Region in Review” coming tomorrow). It was an area of the world that wasn’t included at all in our original world trip itinerary, but wound up lasting 44 days. During this time we went to perhaps the world’s best zoo in Singapore, we saw the filming of The Amazing Race in Malaysia, we overdosed on delicious fruit shakes in Thailand, we toured some of the world’s most fascinating temples in Cambodia, and we rode motorbikes through gorgeous countryside in Vietnam. We discovered so many incredible places, yet left behind years of further exploring in the region. We met lots of interesting people, yet we finally learned to be self-sufficient in our travels.
As sad as I am to say goodbye though, I’m also ready to leave. The congestion in the big cities is far worse than anywhere in America, and there’s only so many times you can get honked at before you want to punch someone in the face. Thankfully we weren’t here long enough to make this a reality. That being said, there are too many missed experiences to count, and someday we will definitely have to come back.
The beginning was that of my stint as majority planner of the world trip. Although we had agreed to switch roles several days ago, getting ourselves to the airport in Hanoi was my first big task. Fortunately Zhou had already started looking into it and had found an easy, cheap route to take. Instead of paying $15 for a taxi, we’d head to the Kim Ma bus station three kilometers from our hotel and then catch the local bus to the airport for 25 cents each.
From there I was ready. I had written down walking directions to the bus stop and found out that we would need to get on the number 7 bus to get to the airport. In case we overshot one of our streets, I had even scribbled some backup directions as a contingency. Nothing could possibly go wrong.
After 40 minutes of walking through the heat with our heavy packs on, we arrived at the Kim Ma station just as planned. There was only one problem: I had taken us to the wrong place! This station was where the buses parked when off duty, and there was no place to pick passengers up.
Reinventing an impromptu backup plan, I used a combination of sign language and facial expressions to tell three non-English speaking locals what we wanted to do, and they pointed us down the street. We headed that direction for a little while before playing charades again with another couple locals who pointed us back to where we came from. As if almost expecting us again, the first three guys offered to take us on their motorbikes for a small fee. This would have been perfect, expect I started second-guessing if we were all on the same page. What if they were mistakenly going to take us somewhere that would make us even more lost? We absolutely couldn’t miss our flight because it was the first of three separately booked segments in the next 24 hours.
I pondered and wandered around as the time ticked away. Zhou completely gave up on the situation by plopping her butt down on the curb and putting her hands on her head. I finally decided we should catch a taxi back into the city where all the tourist-friendly places were, but just then another man walked up and knew enough English to hold a conversation with me. Although he quoted a higher price than the others, we knew for sure he understood what we wanted to do and we hopped on a pair of motorbikes to the actual bus station. (Somewhat funny side story: the man offered me a helmet, but I was leery of putting it on after hearing horror stories of what’s in some Vietnamese hair. I was also afraid of crashing in the chaotic traffic, so I compromised by putting the helmet on my head but not strapping it to my chin, thus relieving neither of my fears.)
Upon arrival at the bus station, the quasi-English speaking man showed us exactly what to do to catch the right bus and then waited for it to come to make sure we got on safely. After a minute we scrambled onto the number 7 bus along with what seemed like the rest of Hanoi, and eventually made it to the airport.
The saving grace in all this? I knew my planning abilities and guessed that something may go wrong, so I had us leave our hotel over 4.5 hours before our flight. Despite the long detour, we easily made it to the airport in time. China, here we come! Wait – Singapore then Hong Kong then China, here we come!
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Picture of the Day: Today was a NPD (No Picture Day), so enjoy this artsy parting shot from Ha Long Bay.
