Hoa Lu

When people who are familiar with present day Vietnam heard we were going for a visit, every response was similar. They said we would love it. At first the shock value of Hanoi was a bit hard to overcome, and to really see the country we had to leave the city. For our first out of town tour we decided to go 100 km south to the town of Hoa Lu. Hoa Lu was the first capitol, and was the economic, political and cultural center of Vietnam in the 10^th century. It is also the native land of the first two kings of Vietnam, and their bodies were buried and still remain in the area. We toured the temple areas and hiked the 400 steps up the mountain to see the tomb of one of the kings. The tomb was rather simple and not particularly worth the workout, but the views from the top were amazing.

We then drove to the nearby Ngo Dong River. After a buffet lunch we were escorted to the river and ushered onto a small flat bottom boat. The boats were powered by local villagers. Our ‘captain’ was a small indigenous woman who we guessed to be about 60 yrs old. She didn’t know a word of English, but that didn’t stop her from talking to us. Sometimes she would point a certain direction and rattle off in Vietnamese as if to give us some pertinent information about the area. Other times she would just talk to us with no indication of what she was talking about. Thankfully she wasn’t a very big talker, but she often engaged in brief exchanges with the captains of other passing boats.

The river was a popular tourist destination, and there were many of the small boats taking visitors up and down the river. The local ‘captains’ varied greatly; men, women, teenagers, even the elderly. All of these captains learned to paddle the boats with their feet. As soon as they picked up a new group of tourists they would lean back in their seats, grab the paddles with their feet, and away they went. Some were holding umbrellas to keep themselves out of the direct sunlight, and others were eating or doing other things with their hands to stay occupied.

 The Ngo Dong River winds slowly though a serene landscape rich in green patty fields, and flanked by tall mountains that jut straight up out of the ground. This very unique series of picturesque limestone mountains are tall with very steep sides which make them virtually impossible to climb. The river flows through several naturally formed caves at the base of the mountains. 

After about 45 minutes, we exited the third cave to find a group of small boats with ladies selling snacks and trinkets. When we showed some interest, one of the sellers took a coke, a package of nuts, and some sliced pineapple and handed it to the lady driving our boat and indicated to us that we should buy them for her. Understanding this was probably their regular procedure, we obliged and bought her the snacks. We got some sliced mango for ourselves and then started the 45 minute trip back up the river.

After returning to our starting point, and after everyone in our group returned, we climbed on bicycles and took a short ride along the old gravel roads of the nearby village. We stopped to watch a group of water buffalo trudging through the rice fields, and went to the river's edge to see the many boats still carrying tourists up and down the scenic river. Soon we were back on the bus and headed back to the busy city. It was a nice enjoyable day to experience these incredibly beautiful places. The bus ride home though is another story.

The traffic is problematic not only for the tourists. The locals also know it can be terrifying. We were told that there are about 10,000 deaths a year due to traffic accidents. For the most part, both the drivers and the pedestrians we observed seemed easy going and gently flowed with each other like a well-oiled machine. As with anything I guess, there is always a bad apple in every bunch. And today that bad apple happened to be driving our bus. 

When traffic is congested, drivers must cooperate with each other. But this driver was having none of it. He was going to be first, always, and he didn’t care if anyone else got hurt or if all the passengers were traumatized. First off he had a constant influx of cell phone calls and he answered every one, and not with a Bluetooth device or even a speaker phone like our previous bus drivers. He held the phone up to his ear with one hand and the steering wheel with the other. So we were already compromised in such heavy traffic with a one handed driver engaged in heavy conversation. He was driving well above the speed limit, and when vehicles were merging he would push in front of the other or just run them off the road. He would tailgate vehicles closely and slam on the brakes coming literally within an inch or two other vehicles. He would straddle the center line to make sure no vehicle passed him, and that he would have the first choice to move into whichever lane was moving more quickly. He weaved in and out of traffic even when there was no room to weave. He would just force the car next to him to stop or pull off the road. In one instance I watched helplessly as the bus swerved abruptly into the left lane and pushed a car off the road causing it to scrape the side railing. The driver never flinched; he was too busy with his phone conversation. Bryan was sitting up front right behind the driver, and Mark and I were on the back seat, so we had different perspectives of the chaos. The one consistent factor was sheer terror. The drive continued like this for over two hours and by the time we finally arrived at our stop the three of us were literally trembling. Bryan headed straight to the bathroom, Mark was in search of some alcohol, and I was trying to remember why we were ever worried about just crossing the street.