Important bus ride statistics:
Average time between honks of the horn = 6.4 seconds
The distance from my waist to my knees ≥ Distance between the back of my chair and the kidneys of the person sitting in front of me.
Time it takes a Vietnamese person to fall asleep on a bus = time it takes to close their eyes + about 10 seconds.
Added value of a bus with onboard toilet facilities = $ 0.-, because the bus stops at least every two hours anyway.
The honking of Hanoi is incessant. It has gotten to the point where the rearview mirror has been replaced by the certainty that everyone will use their horn to inform you of their presence. It has become an epidemic and at times the future of Vietnam’s streets look very bleak indeed. Yet there is hope, i met a few young Vietnamese who believed that, “people here honk more than necessary.” This counterculture of non-honkers is living by example in the hopes that it will catch on. They are also relying on influence from the West, hoping that as the country continues to develop and westernize, maybe they will also adopt the concepts of using rearview mirrors and right of way.
Despite the earsore, I dove into the culture by renting a motorbike of my own, the trusty Honda Wave, and I braved the streets of Hanoi for three full days and emerged unscathed. My preparation for the streets of Hanoi was five months of travel in Thailand, Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam, in that order. Before arriving in Vietnam, I had been made apprehensive by tales of fellow tourists being treated unkindly, ripped off, badgered excessively and overcharged to the point that many had found it to be the least enjoyable to visit in Southeast Asia. I prepared by setting up some contacts through Couchsurfing.org as well as some of Duncan’s study abroad friends. Things continued to work out as I headed from north through the country and I ended up thoroughly enjoying Vietnam. My experience opposed the reports I had received, as I found myself less pestered and more welcome than in any other country I have visited in my short life. Some examples of the hospitality I received:
In the mountain town of Dalat I was approached by a nun, who was visiting with her nephew and offered me a place to stay at my next destination, Da Nang, where I was taken care of, fed, and driven around by the 22 year old gentleman who spoke very limited English, named Thanh, for two full days. Thanh’s family, none of whom spoke a word of English, refused to let me pay for anything over those two days, even getting the nun (who spoke English) to call me and tell me not to try to pay for anything.
Another example was a bicycling ice cream salesman I approached for a scoop only to realize I was completely out of cash. As he was dismounting his bike I realized my predicament and gestured that I wouldn’t buy the ice cream after all, but the old man calmly made me a cone, drizzled on some condensed milk and handed me the cone with a pat on my shoulder (as high as he could reach), no need to pay this time.
The final example I will give happened in Hanoi in a very touristy spot. I sat down to read my book on the grounds of a small pagoda and a woman came over and gestured for me to join her for lunch. She sat of the ground and unpacked a small feast of rice, steamed veggies, fish, soup, with lots of chunks of meat swimming in it, some meat jell-o and even some rice wine. Her friends joined and five of us sat there eating and trying to communicate. By the time I left I had also been given two passion fruits to eat and a coconut to drink and had a tentative date set up with one of the man’s daughters (that didn’t end up happening). Those were just the random acts of kindness that came completely un-looked for and unexpected. The people I met through couchsurfing were just as generous with their time, just as eager to meet and get to know people from around the world.
The most uninteresting and unpleasant experiences I had were also the most expensive, namely the two tours I booked, one to see the Mekong Delta area, and the other to visit Ha Long Bay. The tours are westernized in a way that detracts from the experience. Everything must be idiot proof and accessible for 60+ year olds (no offense), everything is planned out, leaving no room for uncertainty and spontaneity, the food is bland and the people you meet are unexcited because all they do every day is deal with tourists. Also, you are surrounded by other tourists who were as uninspired as I was when I decided to sign up for a package tour. So basically, the tours go against many of my fundamental travel principles and thus are not my cup of tea (which was not very good either).
In the mountain town of Dalat I was approached by a nun, who was visiting with her nephew and offered me a place to stay at my next destination, Da Nang, where I was taken care of, fed, and driven around by the 22 year old gentleman who spoke very limited English, named Thanh, for two full days. Thanh’s family, none of whom spoke a word of English, refused to let me pay for anything over those two days, even getting the nun (who spoke English) to call me and tell me not to try to pay for anything.
Another example was a bicycling ice cream salesman I approached for a scoop only to realize I was completely out of cash. As he was dismounting his bike I realized my predicament and gestured that I wouldn’t buy the ice cream after all, but the old man calmly made me a cone, drizzled on some condensed milk and handed me the cone with a pat on my shoulder (as high as he could reach), no need to pay this time.
The final example I will give happened in Hanoi in a very touristy spot. I sat down to read my book on the grounds of a small pagoda and a woman came over and gestured for me to join her for lunch. She sat of the ground and unpacked a small feast of rice, steamed veggies, fish, soup, with lots of chunks of meat swimming in it, some meat jell-o and even some rice wine. Her friends joined and five of us sat there eating and trying to communicate. By the time I left I had also been given two passion fruits to eat and a coconut to drink and had a tentative date set up with one of the man’s daughters (that didn’t end up happening). Those were just the random acts of kindness that came completely un-looked for and unexpected. The people I met through couchsurfing were just as generous with their time, just as eager to meet and get to know people from around the world.
The most uninteresting and unpleasant experiences I had were also the most expensive, namely the two tours I booked, one to see the Mekong Delta area, and the other to visit Ha Long Bay. The tours are westernized in a way that detracts from the experience. Everything must be idiot proof and accessible for 60+ year olds (no offense), everything is planned out, leaving no room for uncertainty and spontaneity, the food is bland and the people you meet are unexcited because all they do every day is deal with tourists. Also, you are surrounded by other tourists who were as uninspired as I was when I decided to sign up for a package tour. So basically, the tours go against many of my fundamental travel principles and thus are not my cup of tea (which was not very good either).