Intense typhoons ... could affect Vietnam (SHrg112-399)

From Laos, we headed to Vietnam, which through no fault of its own ended up being the washout of the trip -- literally. While we were in country, not one but two tropical storms stampeded through the China Sea. The first hit while we were inland, in Hanoi, but nonetheless, it created endless raining and flooding. 

Not to be deterred, we tried to focus our sight-seeing on the indoors. Although it was within walking distance of our hotel near Hoan Kiem Lake, we took a taxi to the Temple of Literature, in an attempt to stay dry for a while. The main building on the campus is Thai Hoc house, where the first university in Vietnam was opened in 1076 (left). To reach the temple/museum you had to wade through the courtyard dedicated to Confuscious and the scholars he taught there (right). Despite their wealth of knowledge, the scholars apparently never mastered the art of drainage.

 

Say what you will about prisons, at least they have roofs. So next, we headed to Hoa Lo Prison, also known as the Hanoi Hilton. Of course, shelter from the storm was the only good part about this historical jail. Most people know of it as the place where American POWs, including Sen. John McCain, were held during the Vietnam War. On display there is the flight jumpsuit of McCain, who says he was tortured in the prison. The Vietnamese government reftues this, but it in no way denies the poor treatment of political prisoners prior to the Vietnam War. Cells are marked with the names of revolutionaries who lived -- and often died -- in the poor conditions (left). Others were sentenced to death by various means, including the guillotine (right).

Our time in Vietnam was bookended by days in Hanoi, and when we returned, after the second tropical storm hit, the skies had cleared a little, leaving us in showers instead of downpours. Released from the imprisoning rain, we sought out some drier culture at Tran Quoc pagoda in Tay Ho, or West Lake (left). Near the oldest pagoda in Hanoi grows a tree that comes from a seedling of the bodhi tree in Bodh Gaya, where Buddha achieved enlightenment; it is said that it's good luck to walk around the tree, as Buddha did as part of his meditation in India (right).

Our time away from the city started on the Reunification Express, the train line from Hanoi to Ho Chi Minh City (left). The overnight train to Hue offered some relaxing views in the morning after a somewhat uncomfortable night (right). The two berths across from us were booked by three members of a Vietnamese family, so our car was a little cramped. There was also some confusion as the family seemed to debate whether they were going to share one of the berths; eventually, the patriarch disappeared from the cabin for the night, probably opting to catch some shut eye in one of the non-sleeper cars.

Upon our arrival in Hue, we headed straight for the Imperial City. The UNESCO site and walled citadel houses the Forbidden City, home to the royal family for most of the 19th and 20th centuries. The city was badly damaged during the Battle of Hue during the Vietnam War, so a lot of the buildings are in ruins or in the process of restoration. But there were still plenty of impressive architecture to see, including Hung Mieu temple, built in honor of the emperor's parents (left). As if the temple weren't enough, the Queen Mother had her own residence, Dien Tho palace, complete with a peaceful pleasure garden (right).

No doubt, it's good to be the emporer, but the regular folks of Hue don't have it so bad either. The city outside the Imperial City has its own charms. Being on the coast, most of the activity revolves around the water. The locals commute to and from town on boats (left), and other residents live in the same boats that they use to offer tourist trips down the Perfume River (right).

But for the most part, the world was too much with Hue, so after spending the good part of a day there, we departed for even more antiquated and alluring city. The beauty of Hoi An, another UNESCO site, is contained in its narrow streets of clustered old structures, as seen from the unique Japanese covered bridge (left). You can buy a ticket to gain access to the many historical buildings, or you can go the cheap route, like us, and find a restaurant that has been converted from a traditional merchant's home (right).

Like Hue, Hoi An is a community built along a river, so once again, many boats ply its waterways. Other, more timeworn vessels stay put, mooring even more magic to the waterfront promenade (left). At night, the promenade is lined by women selling candles you can cast off into the water as blessings or wishes (right). Their nautral lights contrast with the neon ones across the Quang Nam River, where a party scene is sprouting as a foil to the ancient side.

Hoi An is on the coast but not on the ocean; instead, it sits upon an inlet from the China Sea. But about 3 kilometers from downtown is the beautiful An Bahn beach, where another type of boat fills the waves. Basket boats called coracles, often woven from bamboo, dotted the sand (left). Although they seemed difficult to steer, some fishermen expertly navigated around TJ and other beach-goers as they headed out to sea (right). 

We had hoped for even more beach time on Cat Ba Island, but TJ managed to get only one dip in the ocean before the second tropical storm rolled in. On our first night on Cat Ba, the skies were calm (left). So were the many boats docked in the harbor of Cat Ba Town, most of which head out on day tours to Lan Ha Bay in the nearby biosphere reserve (left). 

But the next day, the weather had become as erratic as Cat Ba Town itself. The city has a bit of a split personality. Set amid scenic karsts beside traditional boats is an unspectacular panorama of contemporary high-rises (left). By morning, the packed harbor had completely emptied. When we found out bad weather was coming, we tried to get off the island, but the "last ferry" for which we bought tickets was cancelled, as was the "first ferry" off the island the next day. So sadly, we spent a lot of time loitering around repetitive Cat Ba Town, gawking at its gaudy welcome arch (right) instead of the wonders of its nearby islands.

To add insult to injury, when we finally caught the ferry to the mainland, the Hoang Long bus from Haiphong to Hanoi was overbooked, so we ended up sitting on a ledge behind the bathroom next to the last row of seats. The bathroom was locked, so there was no smell, but with the engine directly below, there was plenty of heat and fumes, with little ventilation. The murky brown of the Red River was a welcome sight, signalling the end of our unfulfilling Cat Ba adventure. 

Despite the troublesome precipitation and transportation, though, I still have pleasant memories of Vietnam. All I need to remember them is to look at this photo I took as we were biking back from the beach near Hoi An. A cotton-candy rainbow sky has a way of making all my perceived slights disappear.