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A communist enclave

I peered out of the window into the gloomy morning. Fog obscured everything in the distance. In front of me there were a collection of run down buildings. A scruffy-fifties-square monstrosity, built of concrete with slit like windows, hogged the backdrop and a strange upside down concrete mushroom water tower stuck out of the mist. I had not dreamt but somehow I had left South East Asia and gone back to Eastern Europe. Well that is what it looked like! Hanoi, at this time of the year, is nearly cold: jackets and light sweaters were being worn by all. Once the mist cleared the impression of Eastern Europe faded as the chaos of motorbikes, and honking lorries swept the streets. There were beggars and peddlers by the dozen, but nowhere near the hoards I had encountered in Saigon. My flight from Saigon was delayed for two and half hours, and my next flight, to Bangkok, caught a three and half hour delay. I have to say that I can not recommend Vietnamese airlines unless you like sitting in naked airports, and bloody minded trolly dollies. I hate arriving mid evening in a place, especially if you do not know it. However it was after 8 p.m. when I crossed from my hotel to the Relax Bar (60 Ly Thuong Kiet). This is a friendly enough ex-pat hang out. The music gets a bit loud and the telly sometimes takes over but it still the favoured watering hole of many long term residence. Later at night a collection of ladies, of questionable age, collect outside. Several of them suggested they should go home with me and provide massage services. “Don’t want massage,” I replied. “Boom, Boom then?” It was an offer easy to pass on!

A friendly German, in the Relax pub, pointed me in the direction of the Spotted Cow. He suggested it was about 15 minutes walk. I was going to get a taxi but in the end walked. This part of Hanoi is relatively new and has typical wide French style boulevards. So I trundled for a while until I found the Al Fresco restaurant. The menu was an American style “tex mex an all mix,” and I had some adequate fodder. The Boss is an American called James and seemed helpful enough. Almost next door was my real destination, the Spotted Cow. This was good boozer with a noisy game of darts going on, and a good crowd of punters enjoying themselves.

The next day I took a cyclo in the morning and went for an orientation trip of the city. The guy did his best to disorient me and take me for an endless wander around the back streets. However I found the Old Town area to the East of the central lake. Around the other side of the lake is the Opera House, proudly flying a large red flag, and few smarter hotels and restaurants. With some firm speaking I ended up at my chosen destination, the Press Club (59a Ly Thai To).

The Press Club is an impressive operation with a deli, a coffee shop and a restaurant with a large terrace area. After a quick inspection trip I took a beer in the upstairs bar, but as they were preparing the restaurant for a function that evening I ended up eating in the deli. The restaurant menu looked very good, and was priced accordingly. My light lunch in the deli went a little awry, when after a pleasant, well presented snack, I got involved in the sweet section. The staff were all helpful and the food clearly prepared by people who knew what they were doing. A genuine international operation with prices accordingly. The next day I tried the next door Diva café, hoping for more of the same, and found the opposite.

My meal that evening was special. In the thriving centre of the Old Town is Ngo Bao Khanh lane. A narrow dog legged street it is lined with cafés and bars. I blundered upon the Café des Arts and immediately knew I had found what I was looking for. French boss Gerard found me a table in his “left bank” restaurant. That description of Gerard’s fits well: from central Europe I had moved to San Michelle, complete with bright colourful art, iron works and a narrow noisy room full of Yanks. I washed a cassoulet down with a bottle of drinkable plonk, as Gerard entertained us on the piano.

Well replete I stumbled into the nearby Polite Pub, which was packed with a happy, mainly young, crowd swilling beer, hanging out and watching the bloody premier league.

The whole area around the old town is full of small places. Another key street is Nhai Tho, which runs down from the front of the disregarded cathedral. This street has a good collection of small restaurants, including another French run operation called La Salsa, which has a very good tapas menu.

As the witching hour approached I took a taxi to Apocalypse Now (5c Hoa Ma Street) and found the after hours action. Like it’s sister in Saigon this is a disco. I perused the food service, a barbie in the porch, and I enjoyed the Tom and Jerry cartoons as the disco area background. There were different crowds at opposite ends of the room. The ex-pats had the end, and bar, nearest the door, and the bar at the other end seemed to be Vietnamese territory. There were a large number of single girls in ex-pat land and as soon as I sat at the bar a lady appeared. She was no temptation but she introduced me to her friend: just in from Da Nang. Now I had plenty of temptation and in Bangkok it would have been no argument. But this was Viet Nam and although, I am told, getting girls into hotels is easier in Hanoi than Saigon, I was not at all sure my hotel was of the right kind. So reluctantly I left my delightful friend and headed home. When I was caterpillering across the foyer, aiming for the lift, a male guest was having a difficult discussion with the hotel reception about his female guest. So I was right to go home alone. Next time I shall stay in one of the Old Town’s many smaller hotels.

Hanoi shows all the signs of once being a graceful place to reside. Unfortunately too much time under communism has resulted in a cruel decay to the elegant fabric of most of the town. There are still flashes of what it must once have been, and the facilities are those of a capital. It bustles, thrives and heaves as befits a major Asian city, and the lake pin points the centre. I enjoyed Hanoi, it had a pleasant feel to it, even if the nightlife was barely on a par with Hua Hin!

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H o t     a r t i c l e

A communist enclave Memories of other places came in a city that evoked memories that many want to forget, Hanoi was once an elegant place and flashes of that past still show through. Read more

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