Vietnam: Day 2-Present, Part II: Hanoi

It rained for eleven days straight when I initially arrived in Hanoi on October 29th. It was the worst rain in 35 years, flooding the entire city and killing nearly 100 people. The morning after I arrived, my friend, Jessica, and I were trapped in her apartment due to her alley being filled with water. I had come, not only to visit her, but also to decide if it was the city in which I wanted to live. To my amazement and with little sound reasoning on my part, it was.

I immediately liked Hanoi much more than Saigon. It’s still a big city, but it’s held onto much of its character and charm of days past, especially in the Old Quarter, where the narrow streets conceal a network of alleys teeming with life hidden from the thruway traveler. Most streets are named after what goods can be found on them. There’s Cha Ca Street if you’re in the mood for roasted fish; Hang Ruoi for clam worms and; Lo Su if you’re in need of a coffin.

All over the city, women carry their fruit, vegetables, or wares for sale, hanging from a stick balanced over one shoulder, while the men wait at every corner, sitting on their motorbikes for a fare. There are lakes and parks scattered about, which is one of my non-negotiables for any city in which I’m going to live. As an avid runner and former Vermont resident, being able to see and move uninhibited through a small corner of the world is important to me (even if that corner is less than a mile in circumference).


After a few days of catching up with Jess, she was off on holiday to Phuc Quoc Island and I was solo again for the first time since Day 1. I decided to stay at the Aussie-run Hanoi Backpackers Hostel because the idea of exploring a rainy, unfamiliar city on my own wasn’t very appealing. Within a few days, I met a number of other solo travelers to share meals and explore a bit. We navigated the bus system, walked for hours, visited museums, checked out the traditional water puppets show, and waited (often with a beer in hand) for the rain to stop. I was unimpressed with the dreary weather and, after living among transients for over a week, I was exhausted as well.

Ten years ago, I did the backpacker-thing through Europe. It can be an alluring way to travel, especially if you’re on a budget. But at this point in my life and in my travels, moving from place to place in a matter of days, living out of a backpack filled with smelly, worn-out clothes, and having the same conversations over and over again with every person you meet, no longer appeals to me. I do believe in it, I just no longer want to do it.

So, after a couple of weeks of witnessing the constant flux of people on the move, I decided to remain. It wasn’t because I loved it. Hell, I wasn’t even sure if I liked it. It wasn’t because of a job (I didn’t have one yet). The truth is I couldn’t be bothered with choosing and moving to somewhere else. I figured that I could do a year anywhere and Hanoi was just as good of a place as the next.

Five months later, as I sit here writing this, it’s a beautiful, sunny, afternoon. A warm breeze is blowing through my wide-open, balcony door and French-style windows. I can hear birds chirping, people moving about below and horns honking in the distance. It is both peaceful and vibrant all at once. And, as I reflect on my life here, I realize that I can finally say I’m happy.