Trip Back from Halong Bay
Trip Start
Sep 05, 2008
1
47
68
Trip End
Ongoing
Hanoi,
Vietnam
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Back on the road, as we were getting closer to Hanoi it was raining. Hard. Nam told us it had been like this for nearly two days. We were watching people at the edge of the road on scooters or pushbikes, riding through water three or four inches deep, wearing plastic ponchos to try to keep themselves dry.
We reached a roundabout at about 4pm
Hanoi Floods
. We were making good time, and should have been about half an hour away from central Hanoi, but it was clear that the traffic had got much heavier. Not a problem, as our train doesn't leave til 11pm, we've got bags of time. We sat in the heavy traffic at a roundabout. As we reached our exit, the police told us we couldn't go that way, and we would have to go around the roundabout again.We edged around the roundabout, a few feet at a time, for about half an hour. Then we stopped. We sat waiting in the bus in the hard rain, not moving an inch. Minutes became hours, the minibus literally did not move at all. The driver turned the engine off.
Two or so hours into this, Nam got a phone call. It was the man from our hotel. He phoned to explain that the 11pm train had been moved to 8pm. It was around 6.30pm at the time. Kyle spoke to him and explained we couldn't possibly make it, and would have to have a refund. No refunds, we were told. We phoned the rail station who, surprise surprise, told us that the 11pm train was running at 11pm, as scheduled. We rang the hotel guy back and played dumb. "It's OK" we reassured him, "the 11pm train leaves at 11pm, so we'll get that." He then explained that he'd been unable to get us tickets on the 11pm train, so had booked us on the 8pm
Business as usual
. You might remember that this is the same man who'd insisted we paid for the tickets a few days ago as "they've already been printed." We explained that this wasn't acceptable, and that he'd lied to us. He was panicking a bit now, as he realised we'd beaten him at his own crap game. "I'll see what I can do" he reassured us, unreassuringly.
We were still stuck in the exact same point an hour later. Although we were bored we were having fun, watching cars, vans and motorbikes going over, and sometimes getting stuck on a grass bank at the side of the roundabout in order to try and escape onto another road. That wasn't an option for us; the only road moving was heading out of town. The driver had disappeared some twenty minutes ago and we were wondering whether he'd come back when he appeared with a big bag of bread rolls to keep us all going.
7.45pm. Still bucketing down. By now it was clear that we could easily be here all night
Hanoi Floods(2)
. An American living in Vietnam was part of our group; she received a text from a friend saying that this was the worst storm to hit Hanoi in over 30 years, and that town was not moving. We had asked and asked again what direction town was in, and how far. We had it on good authority that it was about 2km to the bridge. Our maps showed the bridge, and we knew it was 1km long, and we would have about 600-700metres to walk back to the hotel once we reached the other side. Realistically, it was our only option.We set off. I had an almost smug self-assuredness as I had packed the aubergine body condom. Perfect. By the time I had "slipped" it over myself and the large rucksack we'd brought with us it was, however, less than perfect. It was stretched to capacity; the pop studs at either side wouldn't get close to reaching each other and it ended up resembling a limp plastic sandwich board more than a poncho.
After about 100metres we reached the top of the dual carriageway we had been supposed to drive down. It was flooded. No traffic was crossing other than a few men pushing their motorbikes and scooters through the floodwater, which was up to their waists
Hanoi Floods (3)
. It wasn't looking good. We noticed that if we crossed the road and walked on the pavement on the opposite side that it was only knee deep, so we did. This hadn't been an option for the motorbike men as they couldn't get their bikes over the central reservation.We carried on walking, through water anywhere between puddle-deep and just above knee-height, for at least 4km. We were all soaked through. The poncho, to be fair, was doing as well as the £100 walking jackets that some of the others had. The water was not nearly a dirty as we'd expected and thankfully there was no steep slopes causing currents. In some places you could see your feet, in others the water was cloudy, and it was difficult to negotiate some of the roads, their steep kerbs and potholes invisible under the water.
The biggest danger was from men on motorbikes; they were riding on the pavement; as it sits raised above road level, it's the area with the shallowest water so the bikers had taken it upon themselves to use it. They went in both directions at some speed with little regard for pedestrians. The pavements were packed.
Locals were clearly amused at the sight of eight foreigners walking through the floods. We passed flooded garages and homes, and restaurants ankle deep in water, still full of customers eating. Electricity was still powering the city, and people were doing their best to make it business as usual.
After about an hour of walking we reached the bridge. There are two roads going over the bridge, a wide road for cars and a thinner road for motorbikes; we were on the thinner road. The sign said no cars, no pushbikes, no pedestrians, but what are you going to do?
We walked over the bridge in single file, keeping to the edge of the bridge at the far right. The incline was relatively steep. we were all surprised that the water on the bridge was still almost ankle deep in places, despite it being easily the highest road in the city. Motorbikes continue to hair past us. To our right there was a metal barrier, about thigh-height; beyond that a drop of at least 50metres to the Mekong River. I was at the front of the group, and I found it difficult to balance not going too far to the left to ensure that I wasn't hit by a motorbike, but not going too far to the right, as the short barrier and long drop, along with the slippery conditions underfoot, were playing on my mind. As a means of distraction I chatted with Kyle on the cheery subject of Golden Gate Bridge suicides.
The 1 kilometre walk over the bridge took longer than expected but eventually the incline became a decline and we ended up on a a roundabout. It was like a motorway roundabout, with no pavements. It wasn't too tricky no negotiate it however, then back down to the Old Town. We were near to the hotel now, and very happy to find that the Old Town wasn't flooded. Although it's a nice part of the city it's probably the dirtiest part, and flooding wouldn't suit it at all.
At about 10pm we arrived back at the hotel. We were all wet through regardless of what means of waterproofing we had used. Thankfully the rucksack on my back had been kept relatively dry by the aubergine poncho. Ironically, and annoyingly, the rucksack we'd left under the stairs of the hotel was soaked, and stank. A plastic poncho clearly provides better waterproofing than six storeys of building.
We were told that all trains had been cancelled due to the floods, which was pretty plausible, and we'd have to return to the hotel tomorrow to discuss a refund. They had no rooms tonight. We found a few rooms elsewhere and went for a wind-down beer.
