The City of motorbikes.” If you leave here with nothing but the memory of a cluster of these noisy little blighters roaring into life as yet another traffic light changes then your visit to Ho Chi Minh will still have been worth it. In Vietnam, and Asia in general, a motorbike is never merely just a motorbike, in fact they’re not even motorbikes at all, mopeds would be the correct terminology to us Westerners who consider say a Norton or a Harley what one might class as “a real motorbike,” but how they are utilized to comfortably carry two, three, or even four passengers is most quite amusing to behold.
As the unwavering heat of a hot April sun burns its way through the roof of my vehicle I chuckle as my valet fights his way through what I had previously considered to be an inordinate amount of traffic, and that’s a lot considering I’ve experienced Bangkok’s grid-locked rush hour for the past four years. Throughout the thirty minute journey his horn meekly competes with what can only be described as a cacophony of noise, every other horn in the vicinity seems to be ill at ease and constantly blaring into life. I perch on the edge of my seat now, twisting my body to gaze through one of the mini-vans large side windows with a somewhat disbelieving smile etched firmly on my face, marveling as I realize I’m completely surrounded by a three, four, five and six deep two wheeled vehicular induced flood of traffic that carries us along like flotsam down one of the many tree-lined narrow streets that criss-cross the main hub of Saigon’s District One.
My first impression of Ho Chi Minh is “complete and utter chaos,” but it’s that fact coupled with a few other notable ingredients like an abundance of top quality hotels, a spattering of worthwhile tourist attractions, an impressive shopping experience ranging from the upscale (and garishly lit at night) department stores that are home to some of Vietnam’s first escalators (that still manage to draw small groups of curious looking youngsters, intent on experiencing one of life’s modern day creature comforts and a free ride to boot) plus a vast range of cosmetics and designer wares. Away from these mushrooming malls and out on the street, you’ll soon find yourself happily exploring, and discovering, the real Saigon, namely District One. It has a great street scene with a never-ending array of small boutique style outlets selling original designer wares, local handicrafts and merchandise of all shapes and size. Beyond these lie the inevitable tourist traps more commonly known as market halls and street-markets, without question, these always provide tourists with a great experience, an opportunity to pick up a real bargain and the chance to barter, interact and get to know the locals, these alone always seem to make Asian cities such invigorating places to visit.
However, I decided to start my “walking tour of duty” with a visit to the Reunification Palace; the place where the Viet Cong finally outfought the American supported French in a manoevre that finally signaled the end to a long and harrowing war. Perhaps it was fitting that my next stop was the nearby War Remnants Museum, a cluster of buildings packed onto the corner of a quiet street that house a collection of bombs and bullets, helicopters and tanks, a photograph library that graphically capture some of the gruesome atrocities that occurred here during the war; there’s even an old French guillotine to be seen. It’s a sobering experience but this was a war that played a huge part in Vietnam’s past, the consequences still prevalently apparent, indelibly etched onto some of the towns-folks bodies and lives.
More palatable leftovers from the French Occupation include a slightly smaller version of the famous Notre Dame, albeit a red-bricked version that stands out most prominently in Ho Chi Minh’s sea of concrete, thankfully it’s only a ten minute from the WRM and it’s a path that will take you through manicured lawns, pleasant pathways and an uncanny abundance of shaded park benches, a pleasant place to comfortably take a seat. It’s a glorious old building, built in the late 1870’s and still a very busy place today, many Catholic Vietnamese come here to pray and attend mass on a Sunday. It’s well worth a visit, not just to hear the excellent young choir or witness the buildings imposing façade, but to sense the serenity this old buildings presence appears to command.
Now dusk is a time when many of Saigon’s inhabitants flock to these well maintained areas of green to relax on one of the said park benches, perch on a bike or fence and chat, either as friends, family, or something more; not a coffee culture, more of a park culture one might say. If you sit here any length of time you’ll soon discover how friendly the Vietnamese are, particularly the children who revel in the chance of shouting “hello” to a passing farang, Westerner, much to the joy of their parents.
A five minute walk from here is the old opera house, the main focal point of Le Loi Avenue which still holds performances and concerts but is also home to the upwardly mobile “Q bar,” a bar that virtually covers the ground floor and is a great place for an early evening cocktail, preferably outside.
From here if you walk down Le Loi Avenue you’ll find yourself in an area what one could seriously deem to be the real heart of Saigon. It’s a pleasantly paved area with dancing fountains, buildings of old and new to gaze upon such as the architecturally inspiring Continental Hotel which was built in 1855 to the skyscraping mirrored sheen of the Hotel Caravelle, home to the infamous Saigon Saigon bar, a rooftop bar which quite possibly affords one of the best views of central Saigon. Terrace seats ring open- shuttered bar, an ambient setting that offers an unusual array of flavoured ice-creams, strong cocktails and a lively Philippino band.
Along Le Loi Avenue you’ll find restaurants galore and art and craft shops aplenty selling all styles of reproduction works, laquerware should not be missed! Amongst all these you’ll find galleries displaying original paintings, oil and watercolors plus some painstaking pieces of needlework that quite simply must have taken months. Silk shops are also a must see/do here and if you continue your walk along this busy street you’ll soon find yourself at the street market which opens till late at night.
Now further afield are a number of day trips well worth contemplating. Cao Dai Cathedral and the Chu Chi tunnels are worth seeing, try and reach Cao Dai before twelve noon and you’ll witness an interesting and colourful service. It’s a large and ornately decorated building which somehow looks oddly out of place in rural Vietnam.
At Chu Chi tunnels you can experience what they were actually like to crawl along, albeit the one I experienced was no doubt a slightly larger version of the real McCoy, built to accommodate the more bulky Western frame! You can also see some of the ingenious, but very painful looking, booby traps the Viet Cong resourcefully made out of bamboo and fire an AK47 if you wish.
Not too far from Ho Chi Minh are the flatlands of the Mekong Delta, aptly named the rice basket of Vietnam. Here you can take a boat ride and undoubtedly be over-awed by the sheer size of some of some of the Mekong’s tributaries. In stark contrast, you’ll find yourself being paddled along the most beautiful narrow channels that are lined with ridiculously upright water coconut trees. You can eat an abundance of locally produced honey or fruit and even visit the old residence of the “Coconut Monk” a place where locals who didn’t want to partake in the war could pass away their days in prayer. There is also an interesting coconut candy factory where you can learn the whole process, start to finish in a matter of ten yards, compact and bijou to say the least. Here the sweets are individually wrapped by fast moving hands that would be much better suited to a Casino in Vegas I’m sure.
Another recommended day trip would be south to Vung Tao, hydrofoil from Saigon being the quickest and least problematic route, where one can idle on a beach, climb up Nui Nha (small mountain) for a spectacular view across the city and along the coast whilst taking in the imposing 30metre figure of Jesus Christ or visit any number of temples that dot the hilly region, there’s even one that houses the odd whale skeleton or two.
All in all, Ho Chi Minh will provide you with an interesting amble into Asian life. It’s busy but not brash. At night you’ll find the city has a town-like feel about it and the more noticeable tourist attractions look resplendent, subtly bathed orange by spotlights. Shops and stalls open late and will provide you with much temptation as well as the much appreciated welcoming smile. It’s a good base for a number of worthwhile day-trips as well as often proving to be the first Vietnamese port of call in many travelers’ itineraries before they head north to the delights of Hoi-Han, Nha-Trang and Hanoi.

Hanoi
Asked to describe Hanoi, I found myself momentarily lost for words.
“A Jekyll and Hyde of a city” I heard myself reply. The puzzled expression on my friends face confirmed his need of further explanation.
Hanoi is an unconceivable city to most Westerners, one that at first glance appears to hold little in means of attracting the average visitor. It’s hot, noisy, dirty and chaotic and to be honest, a city that’s not particularly family friendly at all.
“So why would anyone go there?” my friend asks belligerently.
“For those very same reasons. To experience something new, something different.” From his blank expression I realised convincing him wasn’t going to be easy at all.
Hanoi’s greatest unspoken attraction is simply its streets. They are by far some of the most interesting and charismatic pavements you can walk on in the world right now, but this comes at a price. By day they can be so congested it can often seem like you’re fighting just to breathe. Along the busier streets, at certain times, it appears as if Hanoi’s residents have decided to move on masse. At night though, and this contrast couldn’t possibly be more stark, you can virtually walk the streets alone, but that’s Hanoi, two cities in one day.
Now if you really want to capture its essence, its heartbeat and its lifeblood, this is undoubtedly best done on foot. Cycling is an alternative, for the very brave or the foolhardy, but for me this would be akin to discovering the Hanging Gardens of Babylon and deciding not to look. What Hanoi’s streets guarantee is a chance to witness the unusual, the unbelievable or something that before was completely unimaginable? Hanoi’s streets are where many people spend the vast majority of their lives. So for you, the real beauty of it all lies in the fact that an experience of some magnitude is guaranteed on any given day.
For most of Hanoi’s occupants the day starts early. I’d been warned of the large crowds Ho Chin Minh’s Mausoleum draws so I rose likewise. For breakfast I ordered a large bowl of noodle soup, and watched my first humorous anecdote unfold. My waiter, along with my order disappeared through my hotel’s narrow front door. I looked on, slightly perplexed by his departure until after a few minutes, I saw him emerge from a shop across the road with what I then assumed was my breakfast in hand. With great expertise he dodged through the many cyclists already peddling their way to work. He placed the piping hot soup on the table before me, oblivious of my uncontainable astonishment, smiled and wandered off to “make tea now” as if what he’d just done was the most natural thing in the world, which it wasn’t to me. The soup, as promised, was delicious. I ate it quickly, and expectantly. The day had started on a promising note. I hoped there was going to be much more of the like to see.
Out on the streets of the Old Quarter with my map in hand, I watched shopkeepers starting their daily ritual of moving half the shops contents onto the street. One could well imagine many a battle been fought over those precious few yards of pavement that lie just outside the shop door. Not just because of the extra frontage it provides, but more importantly its use as a means of tempting the many passers by into that all important spontaneous buy.
Noodle shop owners were doing likewise, staking their claim by setting out plastic tables and stools on which hungry customers would soon come to eat. Along the street, I noticed many vendors had already set up on their regular pitch, even at this early hour of the morn. Sewing machinists, cycle repairers, fruit and vegetable stalls, makeshift newsagents, shoe stalls set up next to the cobblers who seemed to monopolise the strategic position of every street corner. Some were still arriving, pushing old carts or unloading gear from ramshackle trucks that would reduce the average Western mechanic to a fit of tears. However, the vendor that truly caught my eye was the florists that bring much needed flashes of colour and inspiration to Hanoi’s dusty old streets. On bicycles, come on you couldn’t expect anything else; they peddle their way along the busier streets trying to sell fresh flowers from the many buckets attached to their bikes. I watched as small crowds were drawn to them like buzzing bees. I’d been on the streets less than thirty minutes and already I felt in total awe of the place, its vibrancy, its friendly inquisitive people and striking charm had already somewhat bedazzled me.
Ho Chin Minh’s Mausoleum, the nearby Museum and One Pillar Pagoda were where I had chosen to start my day. Leaving the bustling little streets of the Old Quarter behind, the city seemed to open up. Narrow pavements grew into tree lined boulevards, skinny houses became mansions. Dien Bien Phu was obviously the residence of the rich and a million miles away from the cramped claustrophobic feel of The Old Quarter. I passed ornate gardens that were manicured and tended lovingly. Commemorative statues stood imposingly along the way, a testament to idols that once ran this country with an iron fist. I heard cheering from above, was it in aid of Lenin’s towering statue which stood behind me I wondered. Not at all, the cheers were for me, the not so accidental tourist. Smiles bestowed faces of a group of young soldiers waving frantically from the flag tower of the Army Museum across the street. I coyly waved back, inducing another exaggerated round of cheers. With a skip in my step I walked on, losing count of the little old women that tempted me with their freshly baked bread, another remaining testament to the influence of the French. Stacked high on wicker trays the size of dustbin lids, they carried them confidently and with ease upon their heads. People, unbeknown to me, continued to smile and wave, gaze open mouthed or simply call hello as they peddled or passed me by. At last I now know what it feels like to be a movie star, pretty dam good actually.
The feeling was short lived though as I took my place at the rear of a long and snaking queue that had come to view the embalmed body of the legendary revolutionary, Ho Chin Minh. It took slightly under an hour to finally meet him. There wasn’t much time to stop and I paid my respects with a quick nod of the head then shuffled onwards as the human train edged me on.
Outside the gardens were equally busy, as was the museum though the vast majority seemed to head straight to Ho Chin Minh’s House on stilts behind the mausoleum. In its past I’m sure it was once a pleasant and quiet place to relax, but not today. Another long queue, though very orderly, had formed to sadly strip the place of any character it once had. However, I did manage to imagine the old man sat sitting before his writing desk, penning yet another famous speech amidst the serenity of his little garden, pond and shielding trees.
The One Pillar Pagoda is but a few yards from here. A curious little shrine that one could easily miss such is its size. It is worth finding, but equally so is the Presidential Palace. Sadly no visitors are allowed inside the building or its grounds, but it is well worth viewing, even if you have to do this through its wrought iron gates to appreciate its architectural beauty and unusual colour- striking mustard.
From here my walking tour took me to the edge of Ho Tay (West Lake) where I had a peaceful lunch of fish wraps and a much needed cool refreshing beer. From my table, Tran Quoc Pagoda caught my eye. It was an interesting little site of turrets, temple buildings and ancient trees on the edge of the lake. It was a pleasant little stop off and gave me the opportunity to view temple grounds quite different from anything I’d seen that day, making the walk that little bit more worthwhile.
It was mid-afternoon now and I’d covered a fair amount of ground. I decided to head back to the Old Quarter, and my hotel, via a traditional market which was as busy as Ho Chin Minh’s Mausoleum. Traders were selling local produce such as melon, rice eggs and sugar cane that was still arriving by the truck-load. The noise generated by deals being cut was deafening and such was their concentration to task, I was able to walk around virtually unseen.
By night, Hanoi’s streets take on an almost Victorian charm. The roads and pavements are not as busy and the noise abated to such a degree one could even describe it as being romantic. Traders work harder now, trying to tempt you in to buy their wares and there are certainly some great purchases to be made. But don’t worry, unlike many European destinations there’s no pressure if you choose to walk on by. Vietnamese art and handicrafts is quite unique and the Old Quarter houses a great selection of galleries that you can peruse at will. The lacquer-ware is a must see must buy as is the silk which is unbelievably affordable.
Sadly though, I didn’t have time to stop as I was heading to Hoan Kien Lake to watch dusk fall on the city. I managed to find an unoccupied bench and spent the most peaceful and serene few moments I’d experienced all day. It really is a captivating place, one where the young and the old come to sit and appreciate the tranquility of the lake. Young lovers perch happily, and innocently, on hand me down bikes gazing across the still waters of the lake. Joggers dash by and tai chi is slowly acted out in tune to the sun going down.
A five minute walk from the lake stands the rather tired and imposing St Joseph’s Cathedral. Architecturally so different to nearly every other building in the city,
St. Joseph’s is worth finding for more than one reason; adjacent to it are some of the best restaurants to be found in Hanoi. There are cheaper places to eat but having not been tempted by the local street fare which looked a tad dubious, I decided to eat at La Brique, a restaurant recommended in my hotel guide and one that is also quite unique in its own right- its interior is red brick, an unusual commodity in Hanoi. I took the French owners advice and ordered Cha-ca, a local fish dish, served with noodles, that was cooked to perfection before my hungry eyes. The food, wine and ambience of this dimly lit little restaurant could not be bettered; one could also say the same of my first amazing day in the North of Vietnam, and Hanoi.
Already I felt confident, yet uncertain, in what tomorrow would bring. I had booked to join a small group tour venturing out of Hanoi into a countryside made up of paddy fields, undulating hills and spectacular greenery on a quest to visit the Perfume Pagoda. Tomorrow night, I had already decided to browse the many shops amongst the dimly lit streets of the Old Quarter to buy my keepsakes. After that I would watch the culturally famous water puppets perform at the Hoan Kien Lake Theatre.
It was only then; deep in thought of the day ahead as I made my way home so to speak, did I hear the silence. It was barely after eleven and the streets were deserted to such a point I could barely believe. Like much of what I had seen today though, I knew it would be hard to describe, to conjure the images I had seen. I chuckled as I remembered the two men on the motorbike carrying a ladder of astronomic and dangerous proportions. One was trying to steer, the other trying to hold the ladder and hang on to the driver for dear life.
My advice or recommendation so to speak is quite simple. Visit Hanoi with an open mind and keep your eyes well peeled, you’ll not be disappointed.
But do it soon, change is the one sad thing I’ll guarantee.


How to get there.
Thai Airways -
Where to stay
Prince Hotel $20 Tel 8848281332, email-hotelprince78@fpt.vn <mailto:email-hotelprince78@fpt.vn>
Sofitel Metropole $260 Tel 8848266919
Where to eat
La Brique Tel 9285638 6 Rue Nha Tho-local fare
Real Darling Café 33 Hand Quat Street-western dishes
Day Trips
Look for the many Sinh Café signs- any local tour can be booked here.
Perfume Pagoda $15
Cat-Ba Island and Halong Bay are good 1/2/3 day options







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