A knock came at 7:30-ish. The voice on the other side of the door sounded upset and, in my semi-conscious state, I deduced it was the bus driver and that I had a whole bus full of people waiting for my lazy ass to get out of bed. I scrambled like I've never scrambled before, pancaking all of my possessions into a disorderly mess in my backpack. It was just my wakeup call. The bus hadn't arrived yet. I had a little time to grab a coffee and check my email before it finally did.
It was nice to drive the Vietnamese countryside in daylight. The highway took a few bends around some mountains and passed through an incredibly long tunnel. Now there's something I hadn't seen in awhile. A tunnel. I had just finished the last page of On The Road when we made our rest stop at yet another overpriced roadside restaurant. Before long, we drifted into Hue; a mid-sized town like the last two. Not long after that, I was in a budget guesthouse unpacking and taking the shower I never got to take.
I planned on staying only one night and two days which wasn't a lot of time, but since I slacked so much in Nha Trang and Hoi An, I resolved to make those 36 hours count. Rather than napping, I set out on my new town walkaround.
The streets confused me at first, but I figured them out eventually. I was baking hot and sweating my shirt see-through, but I covered alot of ground. I stepped into the "Olympic Park", partly to check it out, partly for a chance to sneak past a sleeping security guard. A river ran along a good portion of the town and separated the old district from the new. And when I say old, I mean really really old.
See, the star attraction in Hue is it's massive walled citadel just across the river. It's so big in fact, that they have cultivated fields inside to grow crops. In the center lies another citadel, massive in it's own right. Inside, the remnants of an old ruler of an old kingdom, and that's all I knew. I crossed the bridge to find out more.
The walls were massive, maybe four or five meters tall, and in great condition, probably from reconstruction. Cars and motorbikes zipped in and out of the modified entrances and across the moat. Inside, things were incredibly well-groomed. Men were setting up bleachers and stages. Apparently a festival was going on, which explains why room prices were a little higher than normal. I took in the sights under the canopy of some very large trees that lined the boulevards.
Before long I reached the inner-citadel. The walls and moat were just as big. Here, the real tourist attraction began. People flooded the formerly forbidden city in droves taking in the residence of the Nguyen lords and their loyal mandarins. It was nice. I found the landscaping around the place especially spectacular. There were little secret gates that led to quiet groves and cobblestone paths that stretched around gardens. Temples were liberally dispersed throughout the grounds, occasionally completely empty until a tour group blasted through like a motorcycle gang tearing through a quiet midwestern town.
The day ended in a downpour, with me still inside the inner walls and a good four kilometers from my guesthouse. I waited it out inside of a lonely temple. I had arrived in Hue with this image in mind. Rain, haze and quiet temples devoid of huddles and mess. I had hoped for it. I missed my gloomy Canada. My gloomy Korea. Even sunny days and hot weather lose their novelty. It's like working at an amusement park. This was the switch I needed.
Someone had left abook next to the bed in my hotel room in Nha Trang. The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas. I read the back cover and one chapter and decided to trade it in. It was too intentional. And typical. I had no luck finding a bookstore that would take it in Nha Trang or Hoi An, so I wandered the streets of Hue for an hour trying to find one. All I found was dinner. I guess the book was coming to Hanoi with me.
I planned a boat trip for seven in the morning the next day and a bus ride out for later that night. No wasting any time. My wakeup call never came, but thankfully a horrible bout of dry-mouth woke me up at seven sharp. I packed up and shipped out.
The boat was a "dragon boat", or really just a regular boat with dragons carved in the front for tourists to find exotic. It would go down the Perfume River and visit a swath of attractions I had a minor interest in. I had picked up a map and on the back, in big letters, it read "BOAT TRIP" and I said "Yes". Once the late risers got on board, we left the harbour and I immediately set to work falling asleep.
I awoke about 20 minutes before we reached our first stop. An empty garden restaurant where some young kung-fu enthusiasts put on ashow that included fake duels, brick smashing and various acts of corporal mortification. Ok that was nice, now everyone GET BACK ON THE BOAT! Tours.
Next was Thien Mu Pagoda. Yes, Vietnam added anew structure to my diet of Southeast Asian religious sites: the pagoda. See, places like Thailand and Cambodia are more closely related to the cultures that descended from the Indian subcontinent, while Vietnam is much more Chinese. Less stupas, more pagodas. This was my first, and considering China is my final destination, it sure as hell won't be my last. I walked around it's haunting yards & structures and watched a table of monks say a Buddhist form of grace which seemed to go on forever. I had to get back to the boat before they could finish and dig in.
Next we hit a temple that the guide described as "not very interesting", so I spared myself the admission fee and stayed on the boat.
Minh Mang tomb was next and took everyone's breath away with it's sprawling grounds, it's grand lakes and it's symmetry. Sadly, being part of atour meant that every potentially beautiful shot had some dopey stranger milling about in the background. Oh well. Tours. Back on the boat.
Another thing about tours which hardly gets mentioned is how utterly bland the meals are. It was rice, greens and tofu. Such a perfect example of blandness. Sugar is sweet, lemons are sour and tour food is bland.
We got off of the boat and boarded a bus that took us to another tomb: Khai Dinh tomb. It lay on a mountainside, almost like it was carved out. The steps were too hard for some to handle, but the top was unparalleled in it's opulence. So opulent in fact, that it's probably a good thing swept through when it did because these royal burial grounds were getting out of hand.
Next we did another tomb I skipped in favour of a cup of coffee, an extra $4 in my pocket and some rest. Finally with topped off the trip with a visit to a roadside hut so we could all gawk at this lady making incense sticks. The trip back to town was brisk.
Things ended up working out perfectly because shortly after arriving, I boarded my overnight bus to Hanoi. This one would be abeast too, so I dressed comfortably, popped a Valium and prepared myself for 16 hours on the road.
It was nice to drive the Vietnamese countryside in daylight. The highway took a few bends around some mountains and passed through an incredibly long tunnel. Now there's something I hadn't seen in awhile. A tunnel. I had just finished the last page of On The Road when we made our rest stop at yet another overpriced roadside restaurant. Before long, we drifted into Hue; a mid-sized town like the last two. Not long after that, I was in a budget guesthouse unpacking and taking the shower I never got to take.
I planned on staying only one night and two days which wasn't a lot of time, but since I slacked so much in Nha Trang and Hoi An, I resolved to make those 36 hours count. Rather than napping, I set out on my new town walkaround.
The streets confused me at first, but I figured them out eventually. I was baking hot and sweating my shirt see-through, but I covered alot of ground. I stepped into the "Olympic Park", partly to check it out, partly for a chance to sneak past a sleeping security guard. A river ran along a good portion of the town and separated the old district from the new. And when I say old, I mean really really old.
See, the star attraction in Hue is it's massive walled citadel just across the river. It's so big in fact, that they have cultivated fields inside to grow crops. In the center lies another citadel, massive in it's own right. Inside, the remnants of an old ruler of an old kingdom, and that's all I knew. I crossed the bridge to find out more.
The walls were massive, maybe four or five meters tall, and in great condition, probably from reconstruction. Cars and motorbikes zipped in and out of the modified entrances and across the moat. Inside, things were incredibly well-groomed. Men were setting up bleachers and stages. Apparently a festival was going on, which explains why room prices were a little higher than normal. I took in the sights under the canopy of some very large trees that lined the boulevards.
Before long I reached the inner-citadel. The walls and moat were just as big. Here, the real tourist attraction began. People flooded the formerly forbidden city in droves taking in the residence of the Nguyen lords and their loyal mandarins. It was nice. I found the landscaping around the place especially spectacular. There were little secret gates that led to quiet groves and cobblestone paths that stretched around gardens. Temples were liberally dispersed throughout the grounds, occasionally completely empty until a tour group blasted through like a motorcycle gang tearing through a quiet midwestern town.
The day ended in a downpour, with me still inside the inner walls and a good four kilometers from my guesthouse. I waited it out inside of a lonely temple. I had arrived in Hue with this image in mind. Rain, haze and quiet temples devoid of huddles and mess. I had hoped for it. I missed my gloomy Canada. My gloomy Korea. Even sunny days and hot weather lose their novelty. It's like working at an amusement park. This was the switch I needed.
Someone had left abook next to the bed in my hotel room in Nha Trang. The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas. I read the back cover and one chapter and decided to trade it in. It was too intentional. And typical. I had no luck finding a bookstore that would take it in Nha Trang or Hoi An, so I wandered the streets of Hue for an hour trying to find one. All I found was dinner. I guess the book was coming to Hanoi with me.
I planned a boat trip for seven in the morning the next day and a bus ride out for later that night. No wasting any time. My wakeup call never came, but thankfully a horrible bout of dry-mouth woke me up at seven sharp. I packed up and shipped out.
The boat was a "dragon boat", or really just a regular boat with dragons carved in the front for tourists to find exotic. It would go down the Perfume River and visit a swath of attractions I had a minor interest in. I had picked up a map and on the back, in big letters, it read "BOAT TRIP" and I said "Yes". Once the late risers got on board, we left the harbour and I immediately set to work falling asleep.
I awoke about 20 minutes before we reached our first stop. An empty garden restaurant where some young kung-fu enthusiasts put on ashow that included fake duels, brick smashing and various acts of corporal mortification. Ok that was nice, now everyone GET BACK ON THE BOAT! Tours.
Next was Thien Mu Pagoda. Yes, Vietnam added anew structure to my diet of Southeast Asian religious sites: the pagoda. See, places like Thailand and Cambodia are more closely related to the cultures that descended from the Indian subcontinent, while Vietnam is much more Chinese. Less stupas, more pagodas. This was my first, and considering China is my final destination, it sure as hell won't be my last. I walked around it's haunting yards & structures and watched a table of monks say a Buddhist form of grace which seemed to go on forever. I had to get back to the boat before they could finish and dig in.
Next we hit a temple that the guide described as "not very interesting", so I spared myself the admission fee and stayed on the boat.
Minh Mang tomb was next and took everyone's breath away with it's sprawling grounds, it's grand lakes and it's symmetry. Sadly, being part of atour meant that every potentially beautiful shot had some dopey stranger milling about in the background. Oh well. Tours. Back on the boat.
Another thing about tours which hardly gets mentioned is how utterly bland the meals are. It was rice, greens and tofu. Such a perfect example of blandness. Sugar is sweet, lemons are sour and tour food is bland.
We got off of the boat and boarded a bus that took us to another tomb: Khai Dinh tomb. It lay on a mountainside, almost like it was carved out. The steps were too hard for some to handle, but the top was unparalleled in it's opulence. So opulent in fact, that it's probably a good thing swept through when it did because these royal burial grounds were getting out of hand.
Next we did another tomb I skipped in favour of a cup of coffee, an extra $4 in my pocket and some rest. Finally with topped off the trip with a visit to a roadside hut so we could all gawk at this lady making incense sticks. The trip back to town was brisk.
Things ended up working out perfectly because shortly after arriving, I boarded my overnight bus to Hanoi. This one would be abeast too, so I dressed comfortably, popped a Valium and prepared myself for 16 hours on the road.
Running wild at the Olympic Stadium.
The inner grounds of the citadel.
The inner inner grounds of the citadel.
One of many lonely temples in the citadel.
Displays of manishness.
BOAT TOUR!
The haunting grounds of the Thien Mu Pagoda.
The long grace at Thien Mu Pagoda.
The opulent Khai Dinh tomb.
Woman rolling incense sticks.
Posts
Jon, your blog is god damn terrific. Definitely giving me the urge to travel.
ReplyDeletelâche pas!
Thanks man!
ReplyDelete