Lai Hua Fai Lantern Festival in Luang Prabang

We had hoped to continue our journey from Nong Khiaw to Luang Prabang by boat, but some inconsiderate Chinese developers have built a dam on the river. In fact they've built two, one above Muang Khua and one below Nong Khiaw. It's such a shame; Laos is a country of rivers and for centuries boat has been the main mode of transport. Travelling by boat is so much nicer than by bus, especially on the bumby, winding mountain roads. 

We arrived in Luang Prabang after a three bus ride during which an elderly Laos lady with a bucket on leaves on her knee slept on my shoulder. Despite being the second biggest city in the country and by far the biggest tourist hub, Luang Prabang is a quiet, spiritual center with more temples and monasteries per square kilometer than anywhere else we've seen. The city has managed to retain its tradition, its charm and the slow pace of life we discovered in the north whilst at the same time it has vast night markets, stunning food and enough bars and guest houses to serve the many visitors passing through. 

Over five days we relaxed into lazy days sipping Beer Laos by the Mekong, visiting the many gold gilded, Buddhist temples and wandering through the busy street markets trying not to buy everything in sight.

Temple outside the former Royal Palace (now the National Museum), home to the Pra Bang, a 87cm statue of Buddha after which the town takes its name. The Pra Bang is Laos' most holy treasure. 

Sunset over moored boats on the Mekong.

Young, Buddhist monks look out over Luang Prabang from Phou Si Hill.

Luang Prabang is said to have the best food in all of Laos. I tend to agree. Each evening, at around 5pm, a long, dark, narrow alley is transformed into the gastronomic center of the city. Huge barbecues of chicken, ribs, sausage and fish fill the street with a delicious smoke. Fried dumplings, springrolls, curries, stews and all you can eat buffets of vegetables, rice and noodles tempt you from both sides. Fresh, spicy papaya salads, exotic fruit smoothies and sweet and savory pancakes, cakes, sandwiches... it's a foodie's paradise. $5 (£3) will easily cover the cost of an evening grazing up and down this magnificent corridor of flavour. We haven't tried any of the more adventurous local delicacies yet, fried swallow or ant eggs, but everything we have eaten has been fantastic; a perfect mix of delicate Thai spices and fresh Vietnamese garnishes. 

I thought my Dad could cook up a good barbecue until I discovered these meat feast stalls on Food Alley.

By chance we arrived in Luang Prabang just in time for the annual Lai Hua Fai festival. The rainy season has ended, all the rice has been harvested, Buddhist lent is coming to an end and there is a general air of merriment around the town as the residents prepare for the celebrations. 

The during the festival offerings of flowers, candles, food, drink and money and sent floating down the river in colourful bundles made from banana leaves. The idea is to honour the Gods of the rivers after the rainy season and to invite them to protect the people living along its banks. Buddha and family ancestors are also worshiped during Lai Hua Fai.

During the week boat races have been taking place along the river; the numerous different legs of the race take place throughout the day whilst families gather along the banks of the river to eat picnics and barbecues and down copious amounts of lao lao, the local rice whiskey. We took the passenger ferry across the Mekong to Xiang Men to watch their village boat race. After a long time spent watching the tedious organisation, during which time Ric was inevitably roped into doing some shots with the village men, we got bored and wandered off to explore the temples and an old monastery atop a mountain.

Boat race on the Mekong.

Throughout the week we watched as the town prepares for the festival: ladies on the street sell flower offerings to float down the river; lanterns have steadily taken over every door way and wall in sight; families have been sat outside painstakingly decorating beautiful boats made from coloured paper and bamboo; and the atmosphere has been alive with excitement, music and laughter.

Flower offerings that are sent floating down the river.

On the morning of the festival, at the crack of dawn, a traditional giving of alms takes place throughout the streets of Laos. Residents, dressed in their finest, traditional clothes, line the streets waiting for a procession of Buddhist monks. As the monks pass, each person places a small amount of food in the monks' bowl. This giving of alms brings luck to the people and afterwards the monks share the food with the poor and needy. It was a beautiful serene scene to watch; the sky still grey, Buddhist chanting playing softly, and this endless procession of orange-robed monks walking silently through the streets. 

The night of the festival finally arrived and it seemed the entire town had turned out for the parade. At 6pm crowds gathered in the center of town as ornately decorated boats filed through the streets, each one representing a different neighborhood or temple.The ladies were out in traditional Laos clothing, teenagers played drums and tambourines along side their boats and everyone was cheering, chanting and singing. The town looked beautiful lit up with paper lanterns, especially the temples; young monks were rushing around trying to keep the thousands of candles inside the coloured lanterns lit. The parade ended at Xieng Thong temple where the boats were judged, before being carried down into the Mekong and left to float down stream. It was a beautiful celebration with such a great atmosphere, we're so lucky to have been around for it.

We Stayed At...

A great little wood panelled guest house called Silikhane, down a quiet back street. The room was bright and airy and there was free tea, coffee and drinking water. 60,000kip ($7.50/£4.50)

Cruising Down The River Nam Ou: Muang Khua - Muong Ngoi - Nong Khiaw

After arriving in sleepy Laos and spending the night in the charming town of Muang Khua, we piled into a small wooden barge along with four other tourists and a handful of villagers and set off for a four hour cruise down the Nam Ou River. Passing tiny riverside villages, towering cliffs and dense tropical jungle whilst chatting in the cool breeze on the river was a welcome change from the long, cramped bus journeys that had brought us into Laos. Ric even spotted a river snake. 

Muong Ngoi appeared on the left bank; nothing but a concrete jetty and a cluster of bamboo huts overlooking the river. Up until a couple of years ago Muong Ngoi was only accessible by boat, there was only three hours of electricity per day supplied by a generator, and wifi was unheard of. However now, with increasing numbers of tourists visiting the town, vast improvements have been made to the town’s infrastructure. It now has 24 hour electricity, a road, and there’s even one place in town offering wifi.

The tiny town, which runs along one dusty road on the bank of the river, is one of the most beautiful places we’ve been to in Southeast Asia; karst mountains, tropical jungle and terraced rice paddies as far as the eye can see. The 700 or so villagers living in the area are farmers who live in houses made from wood and reed, water is supplied by the local well and the only traffic in town is the odd tractor chugging down the main street. Apart from the occasional roar of a motorboat on the river, the only sound to be heard is the rustle of the leaves in the trees and children splashing in the river. It was a far cry from the constant horn beeping we'd become so accustomed to in Vietnam. 

Muong Ngoi

The real beauty of Muong Ngoi is found in the countryside out of town. After awaking in our reed bungalow to find the mountains blanketed in a thick mist, Ric and I walked out of town past the local primary school until we joined the dirt road that leads out of town. After passing a cave, we turned off and followed hand-written signs to Huay Bo village. The walk to the village was stunning; through shoulder-high paddies of rice, through rivers and valleys and down dirt paths shaded by a thick canopy of trees. As we stepped through the tall grass thousands of multi-coloured butterflies would rise up around us like a cloud of coloured confetti. We saw orange, red and blue dragon flies, six inch long grasshoppers, frogs, and not to mention plenty of mosquitoes that had their fill of our blood. The only other people we saw during our six hour walk were the farmers harvesting the rice in their fields and children returning to their villages after school.

A two hour walk from Muong Ngoi, Huay Bo village is safe from any large influx of tourists and life there was still very traditional: naked children playing in the dirt, women distilling rice whiskey over wood fires, people washing their laundry at the well, livestock roaming free under reed stilt houses. Old ladies leaned out of windows to look at us, children stopped their games to stare at the sweaty westerners arriving in their town. We stopped to rest and ate papaya salad and sticky rice at a local restaurant where the owner spoke surprisingly good English. 

Stilt reed houses in Huay Bo.

Boiling fermented rice to make Lao Lao, the local whiskey.

We continued on to climb part way up a waterfall before being defeated by swarms of mosquitoes who beat us back towards Muong Ngoi. We decided to take the dirt road back rather than the maze of rice fields to avoid crossing the numerous rivers (Ric was getting tired of removing his trainers every 10 minutes). The road took us deeper into the valley past another small village before looping around back toward Muong Ngoi and climbing to give us a view down over the paddies we’d wandered around earlier in the day. As well as adding an extra 3km to our walk, the road still lead us through a couple of river crossings. Just outside of town we stopped at the cave and swam in the ice-cold spring water running through it. It was a long hike but so rewarding with the karsts towering over us and the breath-taking scenery all around. 

Huay Bo village is through the valley at the far end of the rice fields.

Tham Kang cave, where we cooled down after our long hike.

At the north end of town, behind a modest temple, is a dirt path that leads to Tham Pha Kaew cave. Both caves were used as shelters during the Vietnam war, when American planes heavily bombed the area. Broken pots and pans can still be found inside the caves and the walls are blackened where fires were lit inside. Continuing up a steep path past Tham Pha cave we emerged from the jungle to find a glorious view down to the town and along the river. The short but strenuous hike provided me with my first encounter with a leech, albeit a tiny one that attached itself to my little toe and left it bleeding for a good 30 minutes!

Muong Ngoi from the viewpoint above Tham Pha Kaew cave.

Muong Ngoi is a wonderful, peaceful, scenic place to spend a couple of days. The food is good, the accommodation is super cheap. However, the town is on the brink of being spoiled by tourism. The tiny town already has far more guest houses than necessary; every tourist in town could have had a guesthouse to themselves and still half would remain empty. It’s a shame to see such a beautiful town lose its charm because of tourism, but... on the other hand, the improvements made to the village thanks to tourism will undoubtedly benefit the local people. 

Leaving Muong Ngoi on another rickety, old wooden boat we got squished into the very front seats, right in the splash zone. Each time the long boat took a sharp bend or bounced over a patch of rapids water poured over the sides, down our backs and pooled on the seats beneath our bums. One hour further down the river we arrived in Nong Khiaw, a slightly bigger town that has long since welcome the arrival or tourism.

After a couple of days hiking we planned for a relaxing time in Nong Khiaw but it wasn't meant to be. After a game of cards on our bungalow's veranda we got itchy feet and set off on a 3km climb up a mountain overlooking the town. Bomb shells lined the start of the trek with messages written on them warning us not to leave the marked paths. Although American was never at war with Laos, more bombs were dropped on this peaceful nation during the ten year war with Vietnam than were dropped on Germany and Japan combined, during the entirety of WWII. Today, the countryside in northern Laos is littered with unexploded ordnance (UXO), killing hundreds of innocent farmers every year. Even after leaving Cambodia and Vietnam we're still learning about the awful consequences the war had, not only on Vietnam, but on the whole region. 

The climb to the top was very steep with hoards of mosquitoes lurking in the shadows beneath the trees; every time we stopped to catch our breath we got covered with bites. The 360 degrees panoramic view from the top was stunning though, almost worth the incessant itching that lingered for days after.

View north up the Nam Ou from Nong Khiaw.

How To Get To...
Muong Ngoi: We took the boat south down the Nam Ou River from Muang Khua. The price was pretty astronomical at 140,000kip ($17.40/£10.80) per person. Boats also arrive from Nong Khiaw.
Nong Khia: The boat from Muong Ngoi to Nong Khiaw was much more reasonable at 25,000kip ($3/£2) per person. Tickets for both boats are purchased from the boat pier. 
We Stayed At...
In Muong Ngoi: we stayed at in a wood bungalow in front of a family home, signed as Aloune Guest House. For 30,000kip ($3.75/£2.25) we had an en suite room, balcony, hammocks, and free bottled water, best bargain of the trip!
In Nong Khiaw: we stayed at NK Backpackers where we got a slightly shabby bungalow with a faulty shower for 40,000kip ($5/£3).

Parting Thoughts on Vietnam

We spent a seven weeks in Vietnam, travelling from the most southerly tip in the Mekong Delta to the mountainous border with China in the North. It’s easy to see how the country was once divided in two as the north and the south are very different. As we travelled north, each town was a different experience; the food is very regional and the local dishes are the fantastic, the food that is common to all of Vietnam isn’t as good. The language in the north is different to that in the south too, which adds yet another layer of difficulty to a language that already has six different tones and variations according to age, sex and social standing.

Like China, Vietnam has a restriction on the number of children you can have. In order to control population growth the government has imposed a two child policy. For government workers this is very significant; having more than two children could lead to you losing your job. Another similarity with China is that social networks are illegal in Vietnam; however, technology is developing faster than Communism, like in China, facebook is available almost everywhere.

The Vietnamese want to have white skin even more so than the Koreans. I found it so hard to find moisturiser without bleach that I ended up buying Jonson’s baby cream. Clothes are designed to shield every inch of skin from the sun: jackets with built-in face masks, sleeves that taper off into a point to cover the fingers, skin coloured socks, even floor length aprons worn to cover legs when on motorbikes. Given the tropical climate of the country it’s amazing how much clothing people endure to hide away from the sun.

The people in Vietnam worship their ancestors. Every house has a shrine where the ancestors’ spirits go to rest. The Vietnamese take this very seriously. The shrines can be anything from a simple wooden box, a bit like a bird box, to an elaborate gold plated monument that takes up an entire floor of the building. Whatever the design, the shrines always have incense burning and an offering of some food, drink and money. For most Vietnamese the ancestors play a part in everyday life; prayers are said asking for good luck and the ancestors are consulted for all important decisions. Families don’t tend to move house in Vietnam as this would mean leaving behind the ancestors and this would bring eternal bad luck. For this reason there are still many relatively poor families living in Hanoi’s most prime real estate. Our couchsurfing hosts told us that the lady who they rent their house from still comes once a month to pray to her ancestors’ at the family shrine on their roof.

Houses in Vietnam tend to be very narrow and high, some as small as 2m wide. When the Communist North Vietnamese Army won the war and reunited the north and south, homes were divided to give each family a piece of property. Today, the wider the house the higher its value as the front facing the street can be used as a shop.

The Vietnamese people were, in general, really happy to see us. We always felt welcome and hellos followed us down the street in even the quietest little towns. However, compared to Cambodians, the Vietnamese seemed more business minded were more inclined to try and rip us for a couple of dollars at any given opportunity.

Vietnam is very cheap, we were easily able to stay under our $50 daily budget. For example, for $1 (£0.60) you can get:

• Two bottled beers or;
• Four fresh bia hoi*
• Three litres of water
• A short ride on a moto-taxi
• Noodle soup
• Entrance to a museum
• A filter coffee with milk
• A hired bicycle for the day
• A pair of sunglasses
• A cut-throat shave at the side of the road
• A hair cut (men)
• A pair of earrings

*Bia hoi is a local brew that has a 24 hour shelf life. It isn’t very strong but it's dirt cheap. Local people enjoy homemade bia hoi at street stalls and bars in the north of Vietnam.

The majority of budget hotels cost $8-10 (£4.80-£6) for a double room. That’s slightly more than what you might pay in India or Cambodia but for $10 in Vietnam you get a much nicer room with a fridge, cable TV, air conditioning, wardrobe, toiletries, and bottled water. 

$8 room in Da Lat.

ATM machines in Vietman 

Going from Vietnam to Laos, The Hard Way

The journey from Sapa, Vietnam, to Muang Khua, Laos, was a long one; it was often uncomfortable and at times frustrating but we were also able to see some of the most stunning scenery in the region.

We started at 7am in Sapa, in a minibus that sped around hairpin mountain passes as if it could defy gravity. The morning was probably one of the clearest we had during our five days in Sapa and the views over Mount Fanxipan and the peaks were amazing. Bend after bend revealed more beautiful mountains as cool air rushed in through the open windows. So far so good.

Leaving Sapa.

Scenic spot where we stopped for lunch.

It took eight hours for us to reach Dien Bien Phu, where we stayed the night. During the drive Ric got a sick bag splattered in his face and we had to stop twice while the road was cleared after a landslide.

Dien Bien Phu is where the French we defeated once and for all by the Vietnamese, ending their rule over Indochina. The town is of great importance to the Vietnamese and a huge war memorial looms over the town, providing us with a great vantage point for sunset. As Dien Bien Phu was our last stop before leaving Vietnam, Ric uncharacteristically set me loose in the supermarket and suggested I spend the remainder of our Vietnamese money! I was in my element. It seems not that many tourists visit DBP, I posed for more photos with gangs of school kids in one evening than I have during 7 weeks in Vietnam! Two little lads followed us around for ages giggling and occasionally blurting out random things in English. In spite of its historical importance, DBP is seriously lacking in the restaurant department and we went to bed hungry after a bland meal of rice and fried tofu.

 

My fans.

Sunset over Dien Bien Phu, from the war memorial.

The next day we got up at 4:45am to start our journey into Laos. What a farce! The bus eventually set off at 5:30, crawling along the streets, and stopping every 50 yards to big up cargo. This was a minibus, not a lorry yet the driver and his pal spent the next two hours driving up and down the same street filling the bus with all sorts of produce set to be transported into Laos. Rice, pig feed, fish feed, plastic bottles, flat pack wardrobes, car parts, bedding… we had it all crammed around our shoulders. At 8am we finally left DBP. Three hours sat on the bus and we hadn’t even left town. At least the company was good: a lady on the bus took it upon herself to buy and feed us a breakfast of eggs and meat samosas.

At the border Ric was reminded why he doesn’t let me shop very often; we didn’t have enough money for our visas! The border crossing was much more expensive than we expected and we ended up paying all the extra ‘fees’ to the border officials in a mixture of dollars, Vietnam dong and Thai baht.

 

Sitting comfortably.

At the border, our already full bus received an extra 12 passengers that squeezed themselves in on top of rice sacks, in between slabs of wood and on my feet! To add to the relaxing atmosphere the driver put on some traditional Vietnamese music, full blast. Vietnamese music is truly terrible: high pitched wind instruments accompany even higher pitched warbling distorted with the echo effect usually found on karaoke machines. The bus’s speakers crackled and strained under the pressure.

Eventually we arrived in Muang Khua, not our intended destination but as with Dien Bien Phu, a necessary stop to break up a long journey. Muang Khua is a tiny town nestled in the mountains between Laos and Vietnam; its wooden stilt houses, dirt roads and narrow alleys make it a charming place to wander around and the restaurants and bars lining the Nam Ou river make for a peaceful place to enjoy a beer and get into some blog writing. 

We walked across a terrifying wooden suspension bridge that creaked and shook as motorbikes zoomed across it, and then strolled through dusty lanes until we reached a primary school on the edge of the town. A few little boys rushed over to Ric and dangled themselves off his arms. 

Play time, Muong Khua

The lovely brown Nam Ou River with the scary bridge in the distance.

The colourful town center.

We Stayed At...

Manh Chay Guest House, on the main road. Good room, friendly owner, $10/£6.

Trekking in Sapa

On leaving Hanoi our overnight travel karma finally came around and sorted us out with a great sleeper train. No rats, no urine, no over eager locals to ruin our game of scrabble. The carriage was almost empty and we had a cabin to ourselves for half of the ten hour journey. We were in the cheapest sleeper carriage with hard beds and hideous toilets but the next carriage down was first class and we were able to sneak in and use pristine porcelain during the night. 

We arrived in Sapa, up in the mountains on the Chinese border, at around 9am and were met with the blissfully cool temperature of 1,500m altitude. Within seconds of us stepping foot in the town we were surrounded by hotel owners shouting to have their rates heard over one another. Among the hotel touts were half a dozen local tribes women in traditional dress bombarding us with offers of shopping, trekking, 'visit my village', and all manner of other offers designed to part us with our money. We tried to escape them by ducking into a cafe for a coffee but they followed us. It was a bombardment. Not a great first impression of the town but after a few days we found it funny watching these women flock after tourists like ducklings following their mother.

Sapa's main square (which is actually an oval) with the Fanxipan mountain range behind.

The area around Sapa is home to many different ethnic minorities that settled in the fertile mountains hundred of years ago. The largest tribe is the Black H'mong, who live in villages around the town and make a living harassing tourists. The other major ethnic minorities are the Red Dao, Tay, Xa Pho, Giay. Each tribe has a distinct language, religion and clothing, for example, the Black H'mong are so called because their traditional clothing is black-dyed hemp.

It's possible to visit some of the ethnic minority villages by trekking out of the town into the mountains. Our first trek was to the tourist-friendly village of Cat Cat, an easy 20 minute downhill walk out of Sapa. The village itself was totally geared towards tourism, with handicraft shops lining the street and signs in English. The best part of our hike was the return to Sapa where we turned off the main road and walked alone through luscious farm land in the valley. 

Children pass the shops in Cat Cat village.

View from Cat Cat towards Mt. Fanxipan (hidden by cloud).

For the real hiking we got ourselves a guide, Jiao, a Black H'mong lady from Sapa Sisters Trekking Company. We set off for a steep climb to Hang Da village where we stopped for lunch at Jiao's grandmother's house. We gathered around the fire pit in the kitchen of the mud-floored wooden house as Jiao and her 95 year old grandmother prepared a lunch of rice fried pork with vegetables and soup. Inside the house was dark, with only one fluorescent bulb lighting the alter where Jiao's grandfather, the village shaman, performs his ritual blessings.

Cooking with guide Jiao and her grandmother.

After a lunch we said goodbye to the grandmother and started a steep and slippery decent down the other side of the mountain. I barely managed to stay on two feet as we skidded and slid down the clay-like mud; it was extra slippery as it had just started to drizzle with rain. We descended through recently harvested terraces of rice and corn. Jiao pointed out the marijuana plants that the H'mong plant among the corn; they harvest the hemp to make clothing, apparently. 

Looking out over a local school.

We arrived at Lao Chai village at the bottom of the valley and crossed the river to find flocks of H'mong ladies with their baskets full of 'shopping' waiting to follow us with their wares. On the far side of the village we climbed steeply again, losing our ducklings, to Jiao's sister's house where we were to stay the night. The house was similar to Jiao's grandmother's house, only the clouds had cleared from the valley to reveal a beautiful sunset over the terraced rice paddies. On the opposite side of the valley we could see the ridge of the mountain where we'd eaten lunch. Jiao's sister, Xu, had just finished harvesting the rice in her fields and was celebrating with the neighbours that had helped her in the labourious task. The family had killed a pig in honour of our arrival and in order to celebrate the harvest. We ate ALL of the beast: ground bones and fried bamboo, pork fat noodles, intestines fried with cabbage, blood soup... for the most part it was disgusting, but at the same time it was great to see how no part of the animal was wasted. It made me think how unethical it is to kill a pig and only eat the meat, or to kill a chicken and only eat the breast. That said, I don't have any plans to start eating bone any time soon.

Rice terraces with the mountain emerging from the clouds.

The ridge on the other side of the valley where we stopped for lunch.

Our home for the night.

After our interesting dinner the men of the village went to bed, too drunk after the celebration. The women stayed up to ply us with extremely potent rice wine; one by one the ladies approached us with a shot to welcome us to their home. Once everybody had welcomed us it turned into a pattern of gestures, awkward laughter and yet more shots. The children of the village eventually warmed to us and approached with their school books keen to practice English. There was a lovely merry atmosphere around the table and we felt really welcomed into the lives of our hosts. After a visit to the village toilet, positioned next to a fish pond - very dangerous after a few shots of "happy water", we went to sleep under a star-filled clear sky.

Helping the children with their homework after dinner.

The next morning we were up at the crack of dawn with the roosters and the children. The family prepared a feast for breakfast and we ate happily before heading off to Te Van village where H'mong and Dao tribes live together. Most of the people in the villages we visited live very traditional lives; they are farmers who grow their own food and raise their own animals. Most houses don't have bathrooms; bathing and toilet business is done in the stream. Meals are cooked over an open fire. Despite knowing about the toilet in the river business, we still couldn't resist swimming in the river, the cool water was just too tempting in the humid morning heat.

Jiao's niece in traditional H'mong clothing.

We ended our trek with a delicious lunch in a local restaurant, after passing waterfalls and more stunning scenery. We barely saw another tourists during the whole two days and it was amazing to be out in the mountains by ourselves. Our guide Jiao was really lovely, if not a little bonkers, and meeting and staying with her family was such a special experience.

Back in Sapa we passed time admiring nearby Mount Fanxipan, the highest mountain in Indochina, and eating in the many traveler restaurants lining the streets. 

How To Get To...

Cat Cat Village: follow the signs, walk down the hill.

Sapa Sisters: 9 Fansipan St. sapasisters@gmail.com 

It's worth mentioning that according to our guide, Sapa Sisters is one of the more ethical agencies in town, they employ local women as guides and pay them a fair rate. Jiao told us the local Tourist Information Service provides tours that only pay the guides $7/£4 per day!

We Stayed At...

We stayed in two different hotels in Sapa, before and after our trek: Hotel Mimosa had stunning views, great rooms but terrible service (never anybody around to help us), $10/£6 per night. Graceful Hotel is where Sapa Sisters are located, the room was a bit rubbish but the beds were comfortable (a rarity in Asia), $10/£6 per night.

How To Save Money Using ATM Machines In Vietnam

Most ATM machines in Vietnam will only let you take out one million Dong per transaction, that's only $50/£30 a time. Each withdrawal will cost you a fee of 20,000 - 40,000 Dong ($1-2), as well as the charges levied by your bank in your home country, so taking money out in Vietnam can get expensive, unless....

BIDV bank is the only ATM we found in Vietnam that let us take out more than one million Dong. We were able to withdraw up to four million at a time. What's even better is that BIDV don't charge you for making withdrawals, so the only fees you have to pay are those from your bank in your own country.

BIDV ATMs are widely available in every town and are easy to spot with their white signs with BIDV written in blue.

Hope this helps!

Eating and Walking in Hanoi

 After falling very much in love with Vietnam's biggest city, Saigon, I didn't expect to be too impressed by the country's smaller capital, Hanoi. But this incredible country surprised me yet again. 

Walking through Hanoi is a real pleasure. One minute you're on a wide, tree-lined boulevard admiring elegant five star hotels and the colonial Opera House, the next you're dodging motorbikes on the cramped, winding streets of the Old Quarter where the sunlight is obscured by a mesh of wires and cables connecting narrow, crumbling houses. A short walk north and you find yourself on the edge of a massive lake, sipping a beer on a plastic stool on the pavement. It's a great and interesting place.

Typical house in the Old Quarter.

Old meets new in Hanoi's Old Quarter.

This brave electrician is sitting on the wires to work, they are supporting his entire weight!

We spent our whole time in Hanoi walking, ignoring the protests of my poor blistered feet. We walked around Hoan Kiem Lake, dodging the enthusiastic students that hang around pestering tourists to practice English with them, and popped into Ngoc Son Temple where old men play Chinese checkers on the pagoda overlooking the lake.

Hoan Kiem Lake with Ngoc Son Temple on the right.

We walked around and around the shop lined streets of the old town, where you can buy everything from tomb stones to dragon masks to hiking gear. 

We wandered around Ho Chi Minh's Mausoleum Complex and visited his house and gardens. The complex is the only part of the city where traffic is prohibited and hence becomes overrun with power walkers and families in the early evening. We would have entered the mausoleum to catch a glance at Uncle Ho himself, who lies there embalmed in a glass box most of the year, but he's away in Russia on his annual holiday, where scientists work to preserve the 45 year old corpse. The area is surrounded by guards who impose a strict and pointless one way system, sending us on long detours for the sole purpose of their own amusement.

Ho Chi Minh's Mausoleum

Hanoi's Presidential Palace. Ho Chi Minh opted to live in a modest wooden stilt house nearby rather than in the opulent palace.

We walked the edges of the citadel, which isn't at all interesting, and visited three museums. The Military Museum, opposite Lenin Park, had a good collection of aircraft, tanks and canons from Vietnam's numerous struggles. The National History and the Revolutionary Museum weren't as interesting; there weren't any boards to offer an explanation of the history and instead visitors are left to piece together information from the endless displays of photographs. I think we left the museum with a more muddled up understanding of the history than when we entered. One thing all the museums had in common was their amusingly biased captions describing the 'puppet government', 'French colonial spies', and 'fascist bandits'.

Military Museum.

For two days during our stay we couchsurfed with a couple who lived in Tay Ho, the West Lake area that seems to be popular with expats. They took us to the Communist Restaurant, a place made to resemble life after the war, when people ate state issued food rations. On the inside the restaurant has an old cozy atmosphere, with rusting bikes and cracks jugs decorating the walls. We piled into a snug booth and our hosts ordered us a feast of different foods that were commonly eaten during the early communist period. We were even given food stamps instead of a receipt. The food was some of the best food we've eaten during our six weeks in Vietnam: fried pumpkin, sweet potato leaves, meaty spring rolls, stewed pork in soy sauce, tomato and chili fried tofu... it was delicious. 

Staying up in Tay Ho gave us the opportunity to explore West Lake and Truc Bach Lake, where we probably wouldn't have ventured had we stayed in the tourist area. We walked the whole length of the lake one evening in search of my friend and former editorial boss Colette, who lives here now. We spent an evening drinking beers and eating delicious local delicacies by the lake and got fully clued up about life teaching in Vietnam, which I must admit sounds very appealing. 

On the subject of food I can confidently say that Hanoi has some of the best food in the country. It helped that we had our couch hosts and Colette to guide us towards the local dishes that we might have otherwise missed, but we were in food heaven for a whole four days. Some of our favourites were:

Pho Chien Phong; sliced beef, onions and greens in a meaty gravy, eaten with fried bread.

Pho Cuon; minced beef and fragrant herbs rolled in glutinous rice paper, dipped into savoury apple soup.

Bun Cha; barbecued pork, rice noodles, mixed greens and the apple soup.

Nem; springrolls. We've had srpingrolls all over Vietnam and none have compared to the ones we've eaten in Hanoi. Stuffed with minced pork and vermicelli noodles, served with rice noodles and, you guessed it, apple soup for dipping.

Mixed herbs (incl. corriander, mint, anise basil, chili leaf, lettuce), white rice noodles, apple soup, bbq pork, springrolls.

We visited Hoa Lo Prison, where the French imprisoned and tortured Vietnamese revolutionaries. It's now a museum. I was again amused by the amount of propaganda in there. A small part of the prison is dedicated to the American War and a video shows American prisoners grinning like fools and having a wonderful time playing chess in the prison, which was by then controlled by the North Vietnamese. The subtitles explain how lucky the soldiers were to be captured by the Vietnamese, such a kind and humane bunch, and even suggests the prisoners were given presents from the guards upon there release. I'm no historian but that seems unlikely.

For a quiet break away from the chaos of the city we visited the Temple of Literature, a Confucianism Center and historic place where scholars would study before being tested by the king. The temple is also the site of Vietnam's first university, which was destroyed in the war. The flower-filled gardens, pond and ornate courtyards provided us with a quiet place to rest our weary feet after a sweaty day walking around the city.

Court yard in the Temple of Literature.

To top it off I managed to get a filling done in Hanoi for just $7.50/£4.50, not a bad saving considering the same dental work would have cost me $100/£60 in the UK!

How To Get To...

The city sights: Walk. Or be sensible and get a cyclo, moto or traditional taxi.

We Stayed At...

We actually stayed at two different hotels and spent two night couchsurfing.

Hanoi Cental Hotel: $15/£9 small but above average room located right in the center of the Old Quarter.

Fantasea Hotel: $12/£8.20 small but decent room located on the west edge of the Old Quarter.