OK, so I got to Ha Noi — albeit a little later than I had originally planned — and now I am in Sa Pa (or Sapa).
Apart fom berating myself and feeling stupid, I spent my down time between flights thinking up an awesome blog post about missing flights. Then I landed in Vietnam and suddenly I didn't care any more.
What an amazing place. So much history, nationalistic fervour, and so much traffic!
Ha Noi isn't as big as Bangkok, but it feels like it is. Every square centimetre of space is covered by something: people, motor scooters, chickens, people trying to sell you chickens or rides on motor scooters, and posters of Ho Chi Minh.
I've been fascinated with communist states since my socialist teens back in the 80s. That's right kids, while your parents or big brothers and sisters were out teasing up their hair or buying Bon Jovi tapes to play on their Sony Walkmans, I was dreaming of running away to Moscow or Beijing.
I never thought that the fist communist country I would visit would be Vietnam almost 30 years later.
It's all here — stylised propaganda posters, the hammer and sickle along side the yellow star, and statues of Lenin only outnumbered by those of Uncle Ho.
I went to see Uncle Ho. Perfectly preserved (in appearance anyway) behind glass and six armed guards. A two minute shuffling glimpse fom about ten feet away, after queueing in the Ha Noi morning sun for an hour and a half.
Good experience, but I didn't walk out and run around to join the line again...
Now I'm in Sa Pa. The far North of Vietnam, near the border with China. A sleepy mountain town where tourism is the main trade.
And I do mean trade!
More to come ...
D.
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