Day 2: Hanoi (also known as Ha Noi)
Remember when I said we had planned Vietnam in 2023 itself, trip got cancelled and we used the credit shell for our 2024 trip? Well, the fares had increased in the interim, so the amount in the credit shell was not adequate to cover the return leg. Succumbing to the sunk cost fallacy of not wanting to let the amount already paid go waste, I used the credit shell for the onward leg, and bought the tickets for the Hanoi to Mumbai part by paying extra cash. But that left me with a large-ish unutilized amount in the credit shell.
It was kind of like the old trick my mom used to pull when she would put just a bit of extra chutney on my plate that would not be finished when my usual count of dosas got done, and so I'd agree to eat another dosa but the chutney would not be adequate for this new dosa, so she'd pour more chutney... but that chutney would be left when I finished the extra dosa and she'd say "I'll make you a small dosa to finish the chutney... and before I knew it, I had put on two extra kilos.
Well, what do you do when you have a excess chutney situation but in the form of a credit shell with an airline - you say "Aaj bhai bijness class mein jaayega" and so I used the leftover chutney to get myself a masala dosa instead of a plain dosa. Take that VietJet!
Except when we confidently stepped towards the business class counter, the lady took one look at me and probably thought "Yet another idiot who can't read that this is not for Economy" and promptly directed me to the other queue. To be mistreated in a European country due to my brown skin was one thing, but to be mistreated in a country whose currency is 300 times cheaper than mine... well no siree, I ain't gonna put up with that shit. So, I showed her the boarding pass again, and pointed proudly to the "Business" written on it. Who's the "SkyBoss" now, eh?
A short 2 hour flight passed where Anusha blissfully slept off on the seats that did recline for a change, while I finished off the latest Jeffery Archer book that I had dutifully carried. And before I could also test whether my seat reclines, we had landed in Noi Bai International Airport.
We had booked a hotel in the Old Quarter (like the million other tourists who go to Hanoi). I had booked a Vegan Food Tasting Walking Tour (this one, and Minh, our guide was super helpful. Do try it if you ever go to Hanoi). The absolute stand-out for me was a coconut dessert (coconut malai in coconut milk, with coconut water jelly; unfortunately, forgot the name of the shop!) while Anusha fell in love with a vegan noodle salad (here).
Hanoi has probably the best street food scene among the places I have had the opportunity to visit (Penang comes a close second). Not a great place for vegans, but if you are open to trying out new stuff without worrying about what creepy crawley thing has been cooked, then it kinda blows your mind! Bun Cha, Pho, Banh Mi... the one thing that would drag me back to Hanoi would be the food! Not for Hanoians the fancy ambience, expensive china, mood lighting or soft background music. They just settle down on those low plastic stools on the sidewalk, as the traffic passes by, amidst the noise in the street, but with the most flavorful hot broth and noodles in a plastic bowl with a pair of chopsticks and a steel spoon. Add a few fresh herbs, and a bite of the spicy red chilly, and suddenly all is well with the world.
Some of the food was the "How to Hanoi your wife" variety, and those photos shall not be put up here (since folks in my family also read this blog!).
How can one visit Hanoi and not go to the famous Train Street? It is the proper kind of tourist trap, the gimmicky place which has sold out its soul for a few insta-likes. The kind of place I quietly rage against, since it spoils the very character of the city thanks to an influx of a very superficial kind of tourist, the kind who go from place to place just ticking things off a check-list of "things to see, stuff to do", the been-there-done-that kind. The kind of place that I wouldn't want to be caught dead in. I mean, there is a railway track and a train passes by, while people sit at cafes close enough to touch the train as it goes, drinking over-priced coffee and beer. What's the big deal about it? I come from Mettupalayam, I have done my share of waving at passing trains in my childhood.
So, what did we do? Of course, I went and posed there like the rest of the crowd, because I am a hypocrite (it's easier to say this than to say "My wife made me pose here").
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