hanoi: motorbikes, misread coordinates, and a perpetually sticky shirt
i've been in hanoi for three days and my camera's still fogged up from the humidity. i just checked the forecast and it's twenty point zero two degrees, feels like twenty point two four, humidity eighty-three percent, pressure ten twenty-one hpa - basically, i'm sweating through my shirt while trying to keep my gear dry. the weather here is like a warm hug that doesn't let go, and hope you're into that sort of thing.
somehow, i keep seeing these two numbers: 1905856 and 1704818055. they showed up scribbled on a napkin at a pho stall, then on a receipt, then as the passcode for the wifi at my hostel. i started to think it was a secret code for the perfect bánh mì, or maybe the latitude and longitude of some hidden beach. i typed them into my gps and got 19.05856° n, 170.4818055° e - which is smack in the middle of the pacific ocean. i screenshot the location and showed the guy making my coffee. he just laughed and said, "that's where the mermaids live." maybe the numbers are just a glitch in the matrix, or hanoi's way of telling me to get lost.
check out this map of where i'm currently lost:
the city is a beautiful mess. the old quarter is a tangle of alleys that feel like they were designed by a drunk spider. motorbikes pour through like metal locusts, and the smell of pho and incense hangs in the air. i tried to capture the light on hoan kiem lake at sunrise, but the fog had other plans. the lake itself is a mirror of the city's soul - calm on the surface, chaotic underneath.
i've been hopping from one street food stall to another. someone told me that the best pho in town is at pho thin (https://www.tripadvisor.com/Restaurant_Review-g293924-d1234567-Reviews-Pho_Thin-Hanoi-Hanoi.html). i went there at 7am and the line was already around the block. the broth is incredible, but be warned: they don't have chairs, just tiny plastic stools that make you feel like a kid again. another rumor: the bun cha at bun cha huong lien (https://www.yelp.com/biz/bun-cha-huong-lien-hanoi) is where obama ate. i went, and while the pork was sweet and smoky, the service was as brusque as a traffic cop.
i also tried a coffee place called "cộng cà phê" (https://hanoi.forum.com/showthread.php?tid=12345) that's supposed to be an institution. the ca phe sua da is strong enough to wake the dead, and the decor is straight out of a vietcong bunker. i overheard a local say, "if you want real hanoi coffee, go to the old man on the corner of hang be and tran hung dao. he's been roasting beans since the war." i found him, and he didn't speak english, but we communicated through nods and smiles. his coffee cost me 20k dong and tasted like liquid history.
if the motorbike fumes get to you, haiphong's beaches are just a couple hours east (https://www.tripadvisor.com/Travel-g293924-s123/Hanoi:Day_Trips:Haiphong). or take a bus to ninh binh to see the karst cliffs - it's like halong bay without the boats. i rented a scooter and rode out there; the road snaked through rice paddies and limestone towers. i stopped at a tiny temple and a kid sold me a bottle of local honey. his english was better than my vietnamese, which is basically zero.
the weather here is a constant companion. i woke up today to a drizzle that felt like a cool hand on my face. the humidity makes the colors pop - the greens are greener, the reds of the lanterns are almost electric. i shot a roll of film just to see how it handles the moisture. so far, i've got a bunch of soft, dreamy images that feel like memories rather than reality. that's hanoi for you: it gets under your skin and messes with your head.
as i sit in this cafe, i can hear the hum of the city - horns, chatter, the occasional rooster. i've got my number 1905856 and 1704818055 still scribbled on my notebook. maybe they are my new apartment's zip code? or the amount of dong i've spent on iced coffee? (it's probably close.) i don't know, but i think i'll keep them as a memento of this place that refuses to be understood. hanoi, you're a chaotic, humid, beautiful nightmare, and i'm not ready to wake up.
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