The long long road to Hue

For our last day in Hanoi we decided that we needed to again get up as early as we can to make the most of the day (five days of pre-8am starts! It's like being back at work! In a way). After yet another complimentary breakfast of eggs, bananas and baguette we felt suitably nourished to give Hanoi a final check-up before our long journey south to Hue.

Eating out the night before after arriving back from Halong Bay we noticed that in comparison to the previous nights in Hanoi, it felt even more polluted, almost suffocating with the smog that had enveloped the air. Arriving back yesterday the clouds had arrived and just like the night before this day was even more laden with exhaust fumes due to the cloudcover keeping the air thick with filth. As we dodged the traffic yet again as we made our way west, it felt as if you had been trapped inside a garage with the car engine on.

After walking for about half an hour we eventually came across our destination, the Hoi Chi Minh Mausoleum Complex. Just before we hit the complex we stood in awe at a huge statue of Lenin which acted as a gateway to one of the big parks leading to uncle Ho's complex. From there we walked a few hundred metres and came across Uncle Ho's mausoleum. At the moment he is apparently taking a holiday in Russia to have a bit of R&R but the mausoleum itself stands proud as a shining example of stark Socialist architecture. The place was huge, far too big for a supposed Socialist revolutionaries final resting place. Although evidence of rampact and unregulated capitalism is all around you. As we walked back into town Shell 'accidentally' stepped the wrong side of the white line alongside the complex. A uniformed official started blowing his whistle whilst shouting something probably along the lines of 'walk the wrong side of that line again and I will shoot you in the knee caps and feed you tripe Dim Sum'.

From there we visited the Hao Lao prison, which was originally built by the French colonialists to house Viet revolutionaries. It was later used by the Viet Minh (North Vietnamese Communist Party) to house American fighter pilots who had been shot down during the famous war. The prison was, as far as prison visits go, fantastic. It was well kept and gave very specific if not gruesome accounts of the prisoners who had spent time there, some to their death. The prison conditions were appaling and despite the best efforts to portray the treatment of American prisoners of war as being in some kind of Butlins it was the apparent treatment of the Vietnamese by their French masters during the period 1894-1950 which was the most shocking. Several pictures of severed heads as a result of the guilotine on show was shocking enough but the being chained by your legs in complete darkness for months on end without one bit of light is mental torture to the N'th degree. Awful.

After finally getting our lips around fresh Vietnamese rolls in a restaurant reccomended by our hostel we packed up our stuff, hopped in a taxi and rolled up to the train station for our 600km journey south to the central Vietnam city of Hue, a journey that, apparently, would take 14 hours. Good job we had a sleeper cabin. After buying beers from a woman selling items directly outside the train we found out our cabin was directly next to three American guys who were super friendly. After chatting and drinking for a few hours I found out that one of the guys actually works as a border patrol man between the States and Mexico, I was extremely impressed. It's a job I would love to do so I sat there interrogating him for about an hour about his job and the contraversies it creates.

After a bumpy night being jolted up against the cabin wall everytime it stopped at the many stations along the way. And after drinking many beers with the American guys and a crazy, Russian speaking, Vietnamese Ho Chi Minh lookalike (see photo) we both woke up feeling rather grotty but happy to be in Hue, our next stop. After haggling with the local taxi driver yet again for a fee to the hotel, we ended up sharing with a German couple we had also met on the train. Arriving at the hotel we were amazed yet again at the hospitality and warmth shown by the hotel staff who, despite the fact we were paying around £9.50 a night, made every effort to make things easy for us.

After dumping our bags we headed out into the blistering sun and into Hue, a town divided by a large river full to bursting point after the recent Monsoon deluge that has threatened to engulf the entire region. After the chaos of Hanoi it was nice to be in somewhere a little less frenetic and after walking over the bridge we were impressed by the beauty before us. The Citadel stands on this side of the river, a massive complex of ornate tombs, townhouses, pathways and ponds all enclosed behind a metre thick protective wall. It all looked very imperial, slightly different to the Socialist remnents that you can still see in places. However, at the entrance across the road stood quite possibly the biggest, free standing flag and pole I have ever seen. Something the government thought was needed after the ornate feel of the Citadel across the road.

After briefly heading back to the hostel for a beer and a shower we reasearched the best places to eat and found, via Trip Advisor (amazingly accurate, we live by this website) a small family run place called, aptly, 'the family home restaurant, which having only four tables, was just that. It was like eating in someones house. After waiting a while for food we were not to be disspaointed. The food and staff were both incredible. It's the kind of food I have been craving in Vietnam (Shell can testify) and it hit every single spot. Two main meals of the freshest ingredients plus a side of eight fresh spring rolls (not deep fried) and two large beers came to £4! I could, naturally, get very used to this life.

The next morning we were again up early to board a coach to start a day long tour of several tombs, a pagoda, a traditional house and a cone-hat making facility. Despite the risk of 'temple fatigue' or of getting bored, each one was spectacular in it's own right. Each temple had a story and was built for a different emperor, all ruling between 1700-1900. Our tour guide, a small chap wearing a Barcelona shirt was fantastic and who had a great grasp of English. This meant our mulitude of questions which were lost with our guide in Halong Bay, were answered really well. He told us that the first emperor had 500 wives, the second hated woman and was openly gay (he called that one the Ladyboy emperor) and the third contracted Smallpox and couldn't have children so stole one from his brother! Kind of like the three bears, I guess having 500 wives would be 'just right'. Imagine that. 500 wives for you to say, 'yes, that one looks really nice, go for that one'. Maybe not.


On the way back we had spent the last half an hour (via boat this time) talking to a 68 year old Australian who had taken an interest in our trip. He introduced his name as Doug (of course) and that if we were in Australia he had a motor home that we could borrow when we were in Perth! Now I know you have to reserve your initial excitement due to being brought up in a world where conmen are all too real but this guy had no family and currently lives in Bangkok. Anyway after saying our goodbyes we told him where we were eating that night and went on our way, fully expecting to never really see him again. Low and behold after arriving at the restaurent (same place as the previous night) Doug was already sat there waiting for us. Over yet more sublime food he told us his history of his life as a lawyer before he had a breakdown and that he had sold everything and bought a motorhome and spent the last 18 months travelling through Australia. He was now in Thailand and has fallen in love with the place. His offer is completely genuine and has told us we can have it for as long as we like and that he has satellite tv, gps and all mod cons onboard. He has sent Shell photos of it and everything looks ok, in fact it is amazing. Only problem, obviously, is the fact that my appalingly embarrasing fact that I can't drive means that Shell would have to pluck up the courage to drive the six metre van but it is an automatic and I guess we can just plonk it in a couple of places and make the most of free accomodation for a while. Amazing. This trip, well....what can I say.