Well I thought that was that. But I’d forgotten the stopover in Hanoi. How could I forget a stopover in Hanoi. Only a few hours, but a few hours in Hanoi is different.
We had only one specific planned: a trip to the market, for the interest but also with vague intentions of picking up things to take home, seeing as we’d come this far without accumulating much more than a few sea shells. Well that didn’t work out, though the first bit did.
Place was enormous. And more wholesale than retail, with stall after stall after stall of clothing, then maybe toys, then watches, then you’re in the shoe section. And it covers a lot of ground. And there’s three floors of it. Excellent! Albeit a write-off far as gewgaws goes.
Out into the manic streets and off in search of lunch, because unlike in Saigon central market, no lunch. A squillion bras, but no pho, or anything edible at all.
You have to love the streets of Hanoi – great unwieldy terraces of buildings, no two alike; vegetation spouting out of upper floors; traffic mad but negotiable; people friendly, and busy, and quick.
And it’s the kind of place where you turn a corner and find yourself standing in front of
It’s wonderful. All in just a couple of hours. But after a couple of hours we agreed we were just about Hanoi’d out, and fled for the air-conditioned sanity of the airport. And all too soon, Gate 35…