My first impression of Hanoi was of a city in chaotic perpetual motion. I loved the energy of the place. Guidebooks often describe places as being a city or country "on the move". After experiencing Hanoi's streets, both wide and narrow, buzzing with darting motorbikes, I finally understood that description. But I managed to find some respite from the madness. First at the banks of the city centre lake, where I had a nice chat with a young Vietnamese guy who approached me armed with his "First Contact" English notes looking to practice. And then outside the Temple of Literature, where I got my beard shaved off by an old man who had set up a makeshift barbershop by hanging a mirror off a nail on the temple wall.
From Hanoi I took the night train north to Sapa. There are two main reasons that bring tourists to Sapa: the first is something that I usually enjoy, i.e. trekking; the second is something that often makes me feel uncomfortable, i.e. visiting minority/indigenous/ethnic groups. On several occasions over the years I have been on tours where the itinerary includes something like "visit an indigenous village and see how traditional food is made". At best in these situations I feel like I'm stuck in a tourist trap where buying a multi-coloured bracelet appears to be the only way out. At worst I feel terrible as the local peoples' homes are invaded by us gawking tourists, taking photos like at animals in a zoo. Therefore, when I signed up for a two-day trek through the rice paddy fields of Vietnam's "hill tribes" where we would sleep and eat at a homestay, I was hoping it would work out well.
Alas, this hope appeared to be dashed upon first contact with some hill tribe people. As the minivan bringing us eight trekkers pulled up in Sapa, a group of ten women dressed in all the hill tribe regalia was waiting for us. They followed us to the trekking office and then to the restaurant, standing outside as we ate our breakfast. They proceeded to walk with us as we started out trek, continuing for four hours until lunch. At which point they demanded that the people whom they had helped down the muddy paths and across rivers buy various bags, belts and bracelets that the women had been carrying in baskets on their backs. Unlike everyone else in the group I had avoided needing such help, so I wasn't forced into buying things I didn't want. A different group of women came up to us later as we finished dinner, with more waiting next to our breakfast table the following morning. This type of interaction between the hill tribe women and us tourists took some of the enjoyment out of the experience for me. Still though, the homestay worked out well (it was with a nice family and it didn't feel fake or forced; it was like staying in a basic B&B) and the trek was through some beautiful and unique countryside, so overall I was glad that I visited this area.
From the homestay in Sapa I headed to Halong Bay, where there wasn't anything indigenous about my two-day boat cruise, as my boat was full of backpackers with the majority being Irish. It was a stunning place, best appreciated from a kayak at sunset.
My first impression from my week in north Vietnam was very positive. There was a lot I liked about it, including: the chaos of motorbikes, which often are laden down with people, pigs and/or other random things, like an aquarium;
the fact that the tasty street food could come wrapped in anything, like someone's maths homework;
the markets where raw meat and underwear are sold at adjacent stalls;
and the inexplicable way some restaurants are decorated.
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