Hanoi has too many motorcyles

  Hanoi, Vietnam
Tuesday, February 13, 2007

When we left Dubai Julius swore that we would never see a place with so much horn honking with so many cars. I scoffed. What about China? Thailand? There had to be more honking there. I was quite surprised when neither of these countries came close. Maybe he's right, I thought, maybe Dubai does have the worst honking problem in the world...

Then we arrived in Hanoi. We had a taxi pick-up from the airport, booked by our hotel. Most guesthouses arrange taxi pickup from the airport for a small fee because they don't trust the airport taxi drivers any more than the tourists do. Many taxis (if they actually charge the correct fare) will insist on bringing people to their cousin's hotel rather than the hotel they booked at. Anyway, we settled in with our friendly taxi driver and pretty much from the minute he started the car he started in with the horn. He seemed to average about 10-20 honks a minute, hundreds of honks on the 45 minute ride to the guesthouse. He was not the only one, of course. Every single other car and motorcycle on the road honked at the same rate. Honking seemed to mean many different things including "Get out of my way", "I am passing right next to you so don't swerve" or "I am entering the intersection so if you are coming from the other direction, don't hit me". Hanoi had a major lack of stoplights which would mean total chaos in many cities but seemed to work here. The major reason was that 90% of the traffic was motorbike. We were impressed by the sheer number of motorbikes and the fancy brands until we learned from one guy doing business in China that they were all $300 Chinese knock offs (not real Hondas from Japan). It works for the Vietnamese, though, and now it seemed every other adult had a motorbike of their own.

Being a passenger in a car was fine but once we had to start walking around the city as pedestrians it became a different story. Few stoplights meant few crosswalks and no one was going to stop for you. After a while you just have to step out and walk across at an even pace so the motorcycles can avoid you. That seems to work.

Who needs a truck?

No one hit us but it can be a bit hair raising at the big intersections when there are 15 or 20 swerving past you as you walk across. One couple we met said that they saw some European tourists pushing a baby carriage across the street. She said that she wanted to run up to the woman and shake her and ask "Are you crazy?" If there is ever a time to carry your child, this would be it. Even though we didn't get hit, plenty of people do. Hanoi's road death rate is astronomical.

Just to add to the chaos of the city, we were arriving the week before Tet, the Vietnamese new year. They follow the same calendar as the Chinese do and the same pre-holiday spirit fills the city. The city was jam packed with people doing their shopping for the holiday. We had to marvel at the similarities between the New Year and the Christmas traditions at home. In Vietnam everyone had to buy a Kumquat tree (little miniature inedible oranges) and pink peach blossom branches to put in their home.

Vietnam's New Year Trees

At the New Year market down the street they had hundreds for sale and they rode on the back of plenty of motorcycles. Motorcycles were also carting around some astounding objects like three live pigs and another with an entire cow (already dead). One tourist swore he saw a guy carrying a full size refrigerator. There were lots of red and gold decorations being sold, candy, toys, pigs (year of the pig, right?) and these sticky rice and pork cakes wrapped in banana leaves that people give to friends like fruitcake. They all seemed to be sitting on tables baking in the hot sun so we decided to stay away from them. Although we are being a bit cavalier with our eating street food, we had to turn these down.

The rest of the food in Vietnam seemed quite safe by our standards. Pho is one of our favorite soups at home and you can't go a block without tripping over an old lady selling pho out of a big boiling pot. Here it is commonly eaten for breakfast which gave Sara the excuse to eat it at least once a day.

    Beer was also plentiful and cheap. Apparently the Czechs and the Vietnamese became good friends in their communist past and the Czechs came and taught brewing techniques. The result of this is Bia Hoi or "fresh beer" a keg pilsner that is sold on street corners for the equivalent of 12 cents a glass. The kegs have to be finished daily so they price it to sell. It is good stuff. If you can't find a bia hoi stand, each city bottles their own brand of beer for a little more.

Our hotel was quite nice. Not only was the girl at the front desk a skilled travel agent, they also had full satellite TV and free wireless internet. This meant that Julius could watch both English Premiere League and CNN plus Sara could surf the web anytime day or night. They also had new episodes of American Idol, much the Sara's delight. This was a common pattern in Vietnam. As competition between hotels heated up, these standards became the norm.

We have to admit we weren't sad to leave the chaos of the city so when we got the chance to do some tours we signed up. Our first tour was to Halong Bay on the east coast then we spent a few days in the mountains of Sapa, near the Chinese border. After each trip we got to experience Hanoi in small doses. Unfortunately around Tet all the major museums and sites were closed, including the "Hanoi Hilton" where John McCain lived during the last half of the war and the glass tomb of "Uncle Ho" (yes, he is called Uncle Ho by the locals). We spent one evening with Huong and Trong, an Australian couple who escaped from Vietnam as children after the war. They were on our Halong Bay tour and we got together with them in Hanoi when we returned. It was a lot of fun to see the city with people who spoke Vietnamese and knew the culture. It was interesting too, to learn about the different feelings and opinions between the North Vietnamese and South Vietnamese. Huong's grandparents had to flee the country when Saigon fell, their lives were threatened and their home was taken by Viet Cong soldiers. They, of course, told a very different story of the war to their grandchildren than the Northern Vietnamese who were being bombed by American troops. Time heals some wounds but our new friends still wouldn't talk about the war in public as their opinions would not be as popular in a northern city like Hanoi.

Our last time in Hanoi was when we returned from Sapa after Tet. It was a completely different city - nearly a ghost town. We would walk down empty streets and sidewalks. No ladies selling Pho, all non-tourist businesses closed. At least we know the city can slow down for the holidays.

   Check out all our photos of Hanoi on our Hanoi Smugmug Page!