Friday, and the trek home begins

Good bye Hoi An, hello Hanoi via Da Nang

Final breakfast in Hoi An consisted of

Rice paper roll(s, as there were two, initially)  and Vietnamese coffee

A flat sticky tasteless thing wrapped and steamed in a banana leaf 

with a really nice dipping sauce

Creme caramel

The Hoi An Royal, next door to our hotel.

It was much bigger and looked a lot flashier.

It had people from huge coaches staying in it. 

We left the hotel in Hoi An with the usual confusion we have become accustomed to. 

This time it was about the pick up time, which I was very clear should be 12 midday.

At 12:15 I got the girls at reception to call the drivers wife, who works at A Dong Silk (because the driver speaks no English, as we discovered when he came to pick up Georgia), who thought I said pick-up at 1pm instead of “We must be at airport at 1pm.”

Much gets lost in translation in Vietnam and no matter how clear you think you have been and how many times you have said what you need and how many times they have said “Yes” things still go wrong.

The driver got to the hotel at 12:25 looking none too pleased. Not really my problem.

And off we went. It was an adrenaline filled non-stop ride which took 30 minutes and must have broken every road law in existence, anywhere.

The trip to Da Nang Airport normally takes ~45 minutes 

and cost us 280,000 VND (~AU$18) 

We got to the airport alive and early which both surprised us and made us happy.

As on our flight from Hanoi to Da Nang we got the “Sir, you have not paid for check in bags.” To which I responded “Yes we have and this has happened on our flight here too, so please check.”

What I found really interesting was that in about 2 seconds and with no keystroke’s she processed our bags at no cost. Mmmmm……

This time we ended up in “cattle class”. Kids yelling and screaming, parents yelling and screaming even louder to be heard over their kids and just generally mayhem.

After I yelled at the woman behind Tiz to get her child to stop kicking the seat constantly, to which she apologised, things settled down and the hour long flight went by OK.

Once we arrived at Hanoi Airport I saw quite a few shuttles outside and one of them was a Vietjet Air unit.

We asked several times if they went to Hoan Kiem, the lake by the hotel we had booked for the night.

We got the same dismissive “Yes. Yes. Hoan Kiem.” every time. I figured that for ~AU$8 for the three of us it was a good deal. In retrospect – REALLY SHIT DEAL.

We figured out that the bus took a set route which didn't go anywhere near Hoan Kiem.

When this was becoming apparent, by following Google Maps, I went and asked the driver and his assistant the same question as before “ Do you go to Hoan Kiem?” They both laughed as they responded “ Hahahaha, Hoan Kiem.”

We finally came to a stop here.

After sharing my displeasure, very loudly and clearly, with the lying driver we set off to find a taxi, in the rain. I felt terrible for Tiz and Emma as they were the innocent, and now wet, victims of my cock up.

But wait, the story gets worse. We finally find a Mai Linh (notably reputable amongst a sea of scammers) cab. The window is wound up and the driver only responds after I tap on his window a few times. He opens his window the tiniest bit and I say “Hoan Kiem please.”

He takes a long moment to look at the three of us and our luggage then gives us that now familiar sorry-but-no-way look and waves his hand whilst saying “No, no.”

Bare in mind that by this stage I am tired, wet and well and truly over the recalcitrance I had been putting up with and ask, very abruptly “ Why?!”

He winds the window up, leaving just enough of an opening for me to hear him and says after a way too long pause “I waiting for friend.” In cab rank?!?!?

This response really is the end of my now depleted patience and he gets the venting all of my pent up frustrations. Words like liar and bullshit and other words which I should not use in any circumstance, but did, spew forth in a scream that has this lying piece of cab driving shit visibly shaken.

After my rant we head off down the road looking for another cab which was appearing to be more difficult than finding a genuine Versace bag in an Old Quarter stall. You should be able to imagine what I mean even if you have not visited this enjoyable part of Hanoi.

Eventually one of the smaller cabs saw us and pulled over. I was really grateful but given it was one the really small (think smaller than a Suzuki Swift) I didn't have the same sense of “we can fit everything and all of you into my cab, no problem” optimism the cheery driver did

But fit we did, even though we all felt like one pound of sardines in some ounce can.

The driver had no idea where we were going but,made it understood that I should give him directions.

Yet another time in my life I was extremely grateful for Google Maps and it’s offline uses.

We set off in horrible Hanoi traffic, made worse by the rain, and eventually got to the Apricot Hotel.

How we made it was a bloody miracle, given all the windows were fogged up and we has so much luggage on our laps the driver could not possibly see out of the cab with any confidence.

The 12 minute / 2.5kms trip that can, and did, take 35 minutes on a rainy Hanoi afternoon.

Yet another display of the way locals rely on fellow road users to want to avoid collisions as much as they do. This doesn't always work but mainly it does.

 The Apricot Hotel is very swish and overlooks the Hoan Kiem Lake, which is surrounded by the Old Quarter. It is one of those hotels that meets the minimum requirement of a work friend that has often said "My idea of roughing it is to stay in a hotel that does not provide lotion." No roughing it at the Apricot!

Although we were damp and tired we needed to get out one last time for a drink and feed.

We walked around the corner to a bar called The Church. It was the place I'd seen the really nice black and brass Harley the week before. Lots of the waiters had full sleeve tattoos and quite a few of the patrons reminded me of some of the “colorful” characters I knew years ago in Osaka.

I didn't bother me, or Tiz, one bit so we sat down for a beer with a whisky sour chaser and a Mai Tai.

We enjoyed our drinks as much as we enjoyed the procession of tourist passerby's from all corners of the globe.

As we didn't want to pay New York prices in Hanoi for our drinks and we were now hungry we headed off to find a local place to eat. We were in the same area the kids and I had stayed 6 years ago, so it was somewhat familiar. After discounting any place that served up only fried foods or any place that looked like if would only add to the bugs that had been giving Tiz hell for the last week we settled on this place

And this is what we ate.

Tiz's chicken ...... thingy. Very nice and perfect for her still tender tummy.

Samosa's, Viet style. Yum, especially when eaten with the red stuff below

My fish and rice ...... thingy. Also nice.

Gratuitous selfie

Guess who had been riding her bike in the rain? 

The streaks of road grime are not as evident in a photo as they are in real life. 

She also had a soaked @rse as did most of her bike riding friends. 

Wow, riding a bike on a wet Hanoi night looks like fun!   

The whole meal and drinks cost us less than the drinks at The Church. Go figure.

After dinner we had a wander around and did a “blockie” (an Aussie term for a walk or drive around the block).

As I had offered to buy Angus a North Face gortex jacket we had a bit of look for what was available. Earlier on I had done quite a bit of looking into the hearsay on whether these jackets were indeed genuine “overruns” or fakes that would fall apart in no time. The opinion on the interwebz seemed divided but slightly weighted toward FAKE.

I must say that the more I looked the more I was agreeing that you don't get the same article for 20% of the price.

We went back to our swish hotel and went to sleep.