Vietnam is likely the country from this travel that you, person who for unknown reasons keeps reading these, know the most about. For as the old aphorism states “war is how Americans learn geography.” But while war might teach us that Vietnam is in Asia, that it is communist, and that it is tropical, it is a poor educator in matters of history, culture, or custom.

Vietnam is a proud country with a long history. Its first dynasties are as old as Rome, its people have successfully fought for independence against the Chinese, the Khmer, the Mongols, the French, and finally the Americans. These two most recent foes, for Vietnamese seem to consider both opponents as part of the same war of independence, have had a great influence upon Vietnam. But Vietnam still maintains a culture distinctly its own, one that incorporates these Western influences, but does not bow to them. The food I had in Vietnam was my favorite of the trip, the people among the nicest, and the cities and towns the most distinct and engaging. And it opened with the worst first impression I have ever received from a country.

We arrived at the Hanoi airport and after having our recently purchased visas inspected and approved we were released into the country. A taxi driver offered to take us to our hotel for 500 Vietnamese Dong, and while that sounded like too little on a first haggle I attributed it to the extremely short distance and my still unfamiliarity with yet another new currency. We headed off and turned down a street nowhere near where my map showed our hotel. After a discussion and map comparison and much shoulder shrugging our driver agreed to take us to where my map showed the hotel.  It was shortly revealed howeverazs that it was in fact my map that was wrong. Now trapped on an interstate heading the wrong way our taxi driver decided to renegotiate his rate, he wanted double. It was also here that we learned that in Vietnam the amount you are quoted for goods and services is to be multiplied by one thousand. I was here faced with the option of paying either one million Vietnamese dong¹ or walking about 25 miles around down an interstate. We chose to pay the ransom.

The next day we made for Sa Pa, a mountain town in the northwest that provided excellent hiking and cool weather. We stayed in a capsule hotel, providing fully enclosing pods for beds that no doubt materialized from a claustraphobe’s nightmares. We booked a guided trek down into the valley and through the minority tribe villages of the area with an outfit called SaPa Sisters. The next day we set out at 8 AM with our guide through one of the most muddy, slippery, and outright treacherous hikes I have ever been on. Pure mud trails that were less than a foot wide on the sides of mountains, descents that became mud slides, and river crossings over bridges consisting of about 5 bamboo stalks bound together. At times we came across fellow hikers as covered in mud as we were, locals bearing no mud or evidence of even having seen mud, and water buffalo road blocks that were overcome only with patience. We were informed along the way that this was the easy route, as the other route would be too dangerous after the rain. The views across the rice terraced mountains were awesome and in the case of some of the narrower paths a bit terrifying, and reaching the bottom was greatly celebrated. At the bottom our guide took us to her home, a stone building with no floor, let alone AC, and heated only by the cooking pit near one wall. She cooked us a surprisingly delicious and diverse lunch and introduced us to her family before setting off again to lead us to a van that would drive us back to the top of the mountain. It was one of the most amazing experiences of the entire trip.

The next day we returned to Hanoi to give the city its proper due, and also to meet up with some old friends. The incredibly grand and mercifully air conditioned national museum took us through a timeline of Vietnamese history, ending with a very enlightening look at the Vietnamese-American war from the other perspective. We also visited the Temple of Literature, a Confucian temple and former center of learning, where the graduating classes from as far back as the 15^th Century are still displayed on Stone stele in one of the courtyards. But the highlight of Hanoi was a reunion with old friends.

Three years ago I took my first backpacking trip. I was alone, flush with cash, and planning on spending it all on a three month excursion through Europe. I had no clue what I was doing, but I was young and full of energy.² On the plane ride from Toronto to London³ I met Shannon. Over next several hours of transatlantic flight we became fast friends, and upon arriving in London she escorted me through the airport and saved me from spending a fortune on transport to my hostel. Later on that same trip we arranged to meet up in Greece, and there I met her friend Vanessa. Since then we have all three met up in Nicaragua⁴ and Canada, and I have also rendezvoused with Vanessa in Costa Rica. And then we met up again in Vietnam.

Vanessa and Shawn, her boyfriend who is now a part of our growing travel family, were teaching English in Hanoi and insisted we visit, not knowing we were planning our trip around just that possibility. They took us out for our only great night on the town of the whole trip. There were drinks, shots, balloons, and the next day a hangover. All tell tale signs that some incarnation of the Tres Umbligos⁵ had reunited. The next day we got out of bed at 6PM just in time to make it to a street food tour. The food was delicious, the hangover vicious. We met again for lunch just before we departed Hanoi. It’s never enough time, but we’re thankful for every minute. After all we do live in different countries.

From Hanoi we began working our way South. The first stop was Ninh Binh, a hub town from which you can venture to visit numerous sites not quite within walking distance of each other. We rented bicycles but our penchant for sleeping in meant we had only time for one three hour boat tour of Trang An, a beautiful wetland surrounded by limestone cliffs and dotted with caves and ancient temples. After our cruise we hopped a night bus to Hue.

The idea of the night bus always sounds better than the reality. You travel between destinations over night, combining transportation and one nights accommodation and saving you a day of sightseeing or what you wish. And Vietnam has the best equipped night buses I’ve ever seen. Made up of three rows of literal bunk beds, and usually including a restroom, in theory you can settle down for a good nights rest and arrive in your next city refreshed and ready to conquer the day. The reality is that I am too tall for the beds so I have to lay with my legs bent up or sideways in the fetal position, the bus stops and starts and honks all night, and you arrive at some awful hour of the morning exhausted and tired and unable to enjoy any seeing of any sights.

So we got off our bus in Hue⁶ and trudged to our hostel and fought about nothing because we were tired and cranky. But since we couldn’t check in until 2 PM and it was 7 AM we steeled ourselves and set out to see the city. We rented bikes, but a combination of our lack of sleep and the unexpectedly heavy traffic meant that we walked them as much as we rode them. Finally we arrived at the Imperial City.

The Imperial City in Hue was the capital of the Nguyen dynasty of Vietnam from the early 19^th Century to the middle of the 20^th. The extravagant capitol city including the forbidden purple city, the Emperors personal palace and grounds, are magnificent examples of Vietnamese architecture and grandeur. At least what buildings remain are. Much of the city was bombed to dust by the American military when the Viet Cong briefly took control of the city. Much work has been put in to restore the city, but the damage was extensive. We meandered about the former capital for several hours. The gardens, artificial moat, and impressive architecture captivate us enough to stave off sleep until around noon, when finally we retire to the hostel, stopping along the way for excellent pho. We decide to take a couple hour nap and then head out to one of the mausoleums of the Nguyen emperors, Hue’s other top attraction. We sleep for more than a couple of hours.

We continue South to Da Nang, a city which serves more as base for venturing out to surrounding areas than for any particular sights within the city. We make a couple friends and meet up to go see the dragon bridge breath fire, an event wherein a bridge designed to look like a dragon breathes fire. While enjoying the festivities we get roped in to a group dance that we do not know any moves for but which we enthusiastically butcher. Da Nang’s lack of extensive foreign tourism becomes apparent when I become the focus of an extensive photo session for the local chapter of the red hat ladies. Being a tall red head in Southeast Asia is its own form of celebrity.

The next day our new friends, a British duo named Jess and Alex who had been studying medicine in Cambodia, convince us to wake up at 6 in the morning to head for Sun World in Ba Na Hills and the famous Golden Bridge. The reason for this early start is to catch the bridge, now an Instagram sensation, before it is overrun by tourists such as ourselves. We arrive about ten minutes after the park opens and find it lightly filled with tourists. The rest of Sun World is a strange mixture of Epcot and Chuck E Cheese. There are themed sections that look like France or China or the Shire. But there isn’t much to actually do. The handful of rides are uninspired, the food sub par, and the shows outright offensive.⁷ But we got a picture on the hand bridge and there was something oddly soothing about being regular ass non frugal tourists for a day. We retired back to the hostel for a nap. Next stop Hoi An, Vietnam’s preeminent tourist trap.