7-12 Hanoi - Day 2

It was cozy in our room, but we slept well and were ready to take on a full day in Hanoi. After a good session of chatting with the girls, they served us breakfast of eggs, baguette, cheese in a foil wrapper, cucumber, and tomato. We gave up waiting for Mike so we took a taxi to the Vietnamese National Museum. Our taxi was actually Thon, who is the brother of the girls. We were in a hurry because all government-run institutions, including museums, close 11:30am to 1:30pm for lunch. Not 15 seconds after stepping out of Thon's car we found ourselves at what we thought must be the front gate as it was closing. An old man motioned for us to run for it, so we did, along with dozens of other tourists. With just seconds remaining, we crouched down under the arm of the guard as he closed the gate. We were part of 100 people that made that mad dash, which was pretty fortunate.
First stop was the masoleum of Ho Chi Minh: the iconic socialist leader of the 50's and 60's...in the flesh. Security was tight, leaving little chance to pics or video. Guards in white military uniforms watched from all angles and patted several people down as we followed the long lineup inside. The narrow hallway opened up into a room 20m x 20m x 10m high and we slowly walked along a raised walkway on the outer perimeter. In the center of the room was a glass case containing "Uncle Ho". 4 guards stood alongside. He's been dead over 40yrs, but the embalmers have doen a great job keeping him looking his best. Each year he spends 3-4 months in Italy or Moscow getting routine oil change and tune ups. Seeing him was every bit as creepy and fascinating as you might think. Afterwards, we checked out the national museum. We only made it to one exhibit building before getting kicked out at 11:30am. It focused heavily on the history of the Vietnamese revolutionary struggle and the external cultural influences over the past century. There were many documents on display, such as turn of the century French Colonial news clippings and most notably, the United States treaty signed by Bill Rogers, ending the Vietnam War.
We spent some time at the Hanoi Hilton in town, which is a prison dating back to the 1800's and was a POW prison for downed US pilots, most notably John McCain, who spent 5 years there. His flight suit, photos of his capture, and return visit a few years ago is the centerpiece in the American POW display area. Afterwards I got Thon to take us a few miles outside town to O Sin, a restaurant in the "Snake Village" area. Snake, namely King Cobra, is not a traditional meal and many have never tried it. In a back courtyard, an old woman sat with a mesh bag containing a King Cobra. the hard sell was on-- she wanted $75 to prepare a 6 course meal, all based off cobra. An old woman casually handling a King Cobra just a few feet from you is not my idea of an environment for fair dealings! We tried to get an agreement on 800k Dong ($45) but in the middle of negotiations, she grabbed it's tail, then in one motion, let go of it's head and sent it swinging head-first into the concrete. Two whacks did it in. With a small razor, she gutted it and removed the still-beating heart, then drained its blood into a bottle of rice whisky. We went upstairs and alternated Bia Hanoi with shots of the snake blood & rice whisky concoction. Over the course of 90 minutes in a private room, myself, Mike, Matt, Chris, and Thon ate all sorts of snake dishes. There was stir fry, snake egg rolls, snake wrapped in cabbage, crispy snake, and even fried snake skin. I had initially volunteered to be the guest of honor, which entails taking a shot of the bloody rice whisky concoction with the still-beating heart in it. For some reason the heart never made it to our table, so I opted no to do it when we finally got the old woman to bring it out. She probably dug it out of the trash, but Mike didn't care. Mike dropped the heart into about two shots of rice whisky and with a big cheers, gulped the whole thing down, barely able to fight off gagging. Overall, it was a decent meal, one worth the story, if not for the unique taste of snake. Out front the restaurant, we checked out embalmed cobras in large jars. A King Cobra can grow to over 5m long, so you can imagine how big they get!
That night we attended a Water Puppet show. It's a puppet show that takes place on a stage of water. The puppets dance across the water, suspended by bamboo poles and operated by people hidden away behind stage. It was in Vietnamese, but was still entertaining. We were in the mood for some good food, so we wandered around the lake until we came across I-Box, an expensive French/Western lounge & restaurant. We got a bottle of wine, some scotch, ans some delicious steaks, rack of lamb, and fish. The deserts were passed around and were outstanding. We all got Vietnamese coffees, which were thick and delicious. Total cost for the meal: $30 each. We found out that Vietnam is the #2 exporter of coffee in the world. Vietnamese preparation makes your average cup of joe incredibly strong...jam packed with caffeine. That night we were all tossing and turning until 5am. We joked, told stories, and goofed around, making it a memorable night.

7-11 Hanoi - Day 1

It was a rough morning for all of us. Sleep deprivation mixed with beer and poor diets kept assaulting our immune systems. Mike was hacking up a lung. Apparently Matt & Mike stayed in their rooms for two days in Chiang Mai, trying to ride out their colds. Chris and I checked out and sat down for breakfast on the main drag, Sisavong Rd. Mike, Jeff, and Matt were each staying in different rooms, so we planned to meet at the airport for our 2pm departure. We all made it miraculously despite the fact that it took 5 booking agencies before we found a guy who "knew someone" at Vietnam Airlines that could get us on the flight. We expected to change back all our spare Laotian currency, called "Kip", but of course, the exchange office was closed. Nobody outside Laos will trade or accept Kip, so it's a souvenier once you leave. After racking up a good bill of fruit shakes and mystery meat sandwhiches, Jeff decided to start heanding out his money to strangers around him. You should have seen their faces..confusion at it's finest. 5 minutes later, we discovered a souvenier shop owner who would gladly exchange our Kip for USD. Jeff had a funny look on his face after he realized he just gave away $30.
The flight was pretty uneventful and most of us slept the 90 minute duration. Looking out the window, Laos is green and mountainous with almost no flat terrain in the North. As we passed into Vietnam, the terrain levelled out. Hanoi is in the middle of a fertile plain near the mouth of several rivers that lead into the Gulf of Tonken. With mountains off in the distance, it's actually a bit similar in topography as Sacramento. We loaded up on cash at the ATM machines in the terminal. In the local currnecy, 1 USD is equal to 18,000 "Dong", thus making us all millionaires after taking out just $50 or so. We loaded into a taxi ($10) and made the 40 minute trip into town. We quickly learned that there was no such thing as a traffic law in Vietnam, which gives support to claims we've heard that Vietnam has the most deadly roads in the world. Over 75 people die each day on the relatively small network of roads and highways here with a population of about 80 million. Note that 70% of the population lives in rural areas on farms, without cars or motorbikes. That's somthing like 100 people dying on California roads each day. Traffic lights are nowhere except a few of the busiest intersections downtown. Even then, drivers will run them if traffic is light. What would seem like reckless driving, road rage manuevers and suicide by motorcycle in the United States, is just the status quo here. It's not too often in California that I see a dump truck driving in reverse on the freeway, or cars making turns into oncoming traffic, trying to bully their way across. We didn't speak much during that drive and all seat belts were firmly secured. As we took in the scenery, the construction of many buildings seemed out of place. Amongst rice paddies were solitary buildings or sometimes clusters of them. Despite the abundance of space, these homes were 3-4 stories tall and narrow with a colorful facade in front. Each side was windowless, bare concrete, as if any day they would become common walls with another building constructed beside it. These were "bostonians", meant to be packed tightly in rows along a crowded city street. A cab took us to the busy old quarter of Hanoi near Lake Hoan Kiem. The first choice on our list of hotels was booked, so we reluctantly went to a sister property. With taxis, it's always the same story across Asia: They put on a charade that your chosen hotel is full, so they take you to somewher else that they can get a kickback. The line is always "I take you to my uncle's place, it much nicer". Out front the Hanoi Family Guesthouse, we struggled with the decision to take a room. $5 each was to get us a room with 3 beds, a mattress on the floor and free breakfast & dinner. It was 100*F/40*C and 80% humidity out, so these terms, including air conditioning were tough to turn down. Mike wasn't too happy piling in with four other guys in one room, so he walked down the street and got his own $22/night room at a nice place. Our room was as basic as it gets, and to top it off, the A/C was acting up. We ended up downstairs that evening, invited to a home-cooked meal. As one delicious dish after the other came streaming out of a back kitchen, we knew we were in for a treat. The guesthouse was managed by three girls and their brother. They were all incredibly friendly and eager to get to know us. A couple other guests dropped in for dinner and a cold beer (also free), but mostly it was just us and three giddy girls trying their best to speak English with us. Huen was the eldest at about 30 years old. She had studied for a short time in London so her English was pretty good. Tam and Nga were in their late twenties and less able to communicate, but still, talking to them wasn't difficult. We pigged out on some amazing food that these girls had prepared. The big hit was pork belly in a tasty glaze. We were all fighting over the pork morsels with our chopsticks, then moving onto the morning glory (greens), rice, and noodles. We had stuffed ourselves, and with hospitality like this, wewere unsure if we'd eat out in Hanoi at all!
After a short nap, we grabbed a map and ventured out in search of a cold beer and a glimpse of the city in the evening. We eventually made it to the lake near the South end of the old quarter, known as Hoan Kiem Lake. We came upon the North end of the lake at a large intersetcion with a round-about. It was pure chaos. In Vietnam, horns are used like an ambulance uses its sirens and horns-- It's all about "Hey, look out for me! I'm coming your way and I'm not going to yield!". The honking puts New York taxis to shame. It's actually very annoying to be surrounded by horn-happy maniancs on scooters and cars all around you. We escaped the madness in the streets at the City View Cafe on the 7th floor of a building overlooking the lake and the busy streets below. A smooth scotch and a healthy dose of ice cream really topped off the evening.
On our way to our room, we came across the three girls layed out on the lobby floor, studying English. One thing led to another and we spent an hour giving each other language lessons. It was a lot of fun!

7-10 Luang Prabang, Laos - Day 1

I made the 2 hour flight in to Luang Prabang and dropped my bag off at the guesthouse Chris was staying at. Mike, Jeff, Chris, and Matt were all staying at different guesthouses. Mike, Jeff, and Matt flew in from Chiang Mai on different days, whereas Chris took a speed boat down the Mekong River. He said it was frightening and exhilarating to do 60mph in a skinny longtail boat loaded with 6 passengers, gear, and a huge engine mounted on the back. Sometimes they hit logs or other boats and crash, causing serious injuries and deaths. Chris says he'll never do it again, but loved it. I quickly checked my email and discovered that all the guys were headed to a popular tourist spot 40km up in the hills called Kwanxi Waterfalls. 30 minutes later I was pulling into the falls parking area, just as the guys were preparing to load back into their taxi sontao (a pickup truck with benches in back). They didn't recognize me with the helmet on so a quick smack to Chris's ass got their attention. They were all pretty happy to see me and insisted I walk up to the falls and take a quick swim.
It was 95*F/33*C out that day so a cold dip in the falls was a little piece of heaven. The falls were gorgeous, we could have stayed there all day, but the taxi was waiting and we were meeting Jeff for dinner. As I followed the pickup taxi back, Mike gnawed on a whole grilled fish while the others tried their best to lure me close enough to spray me with beer and water.
Luang Prabang is a sleepy little city of about 30,000, but tourism has definitely left it's mark. On the main drag, Sissavong Rd, it's nothing but shops catering to tourists and you can't walk more than 30 seconds without touts to buy something or take a taxi. The nice thing about the town is that it's a UNESCO World Heritage site so all the buildings are protected and are interesting. After cleaning up in Chris' room, it only took a 5 minute motorbike cruise around town for Chris and I to track down Jeff. He is a huge wanderer. We sat down with some cold beers at a bar & grill that was showing a movie (Blood Diamond) and we got some good Laotian cuisine such as salad with minced fish and also water buffalo stew. Everything was really good, although the buffalo was a bit tough. Being the long-lost member of the group, I was pressured into taking some shots of "lao-lao", which is the local drink of rice whisky. It's a mix between sake and gasoline from what I can tell. We all decided tonight would be a late one since we were all together and were taking the 2pm flight to Hanoi the next day. We walked across the street to a bar that was outdoors with no roof, just thick jungle overhead with flood lights. We were in the middle of a city, but it felt more like some kind of Swiss Family Robinson encampment; it was really cool. A few Beer Lao down the hatch along with some good laughs got us to 11pm, which was very late on Lao time. Most everyone in the city goes to bed early and wakes up in time to give alms to the Buddhist monks at 6am. It is a very old ritual in which those who wish to participate will gather in a line along a designated path. The monks get breakfast only from the gifts of food (alms) handed out to them in their bowls as they pass by. It's kinda like a daily trick-or-treat, but everyone is in the same orange costume. The basic food given is rice, but you can give anything. Many people give a variety of things so as to give them a nutritional breakfast. Thanks to laws that shut down business at 11pm, we were out on the streets. Luckily, the guys met a cool taxi driver the day before and he knew of a dance club that was open from 11pm to midnight. Yes, that's right, just one hour.
We arrived at the club and judging by the 300 motorbikes crammed out front, the entire young population of the city was there. It was 99 percent locals in a dimly lit club, playing a mix of American and Asian clubbing music. In Laos, it's difficult to dance with girls because they are raised to be very conservative and seemingly weary of outsiders. They are very shy and act more like girls in grade school. If a girl tries to dance with you, it's very likely it's not a girl at all!!! In fact, having TOO much fun in Laos can get you into serious trouble. Posted in guesthouses and in the back of restaurant menus were clear warnings: drug possession will get you the death penalty. Any "relations" with a Laotian national, and the two of you will go to prison and you'll get a $5,000 USD fine. I opted to stay off the dance floor but Matt, Jeff, and Chris had a great time dancing with each other and they were doing a good job embarrassing the shy Laotian girls. We later found that the reason this club could be open past curfew is that it's owned by the Chinese mafia, which has agreements with the cops. After an hour of goofing around, we took our pickup taxi to the only other place in town that's open late and thus also run by the mafia: The bowling alley! At $1.50 per game, it was a real deal. We were packed into the bowling alley with a few dozen other tourists and bowled until 3am.