Hanoi:

It's easier to pictures than it is writing about it. And besides, don't you just like to watch sometimes...?

Hoan Kiem Lake

This is the lake in the centre of Hanoi. Sometimes, when I was feeling especially ebullient, I would run around it at 6:30 in the morning before the sun got too high for pale, blue-skinned, below-rock dwellers like me to be out. It's a little over a 1 1/3 miles in circumference and in the mornings, at about 6:30, lots of nice Vietnamese people also like to exercise around the edge of the lake too. I know they were nice people as I spoke to them. All of them.




In the middle of the lake is a small island called Turtle Island. It is an ancient monument to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, who were all born in this very lake. Local legend has it that there is still a huge turtle living in the lake, but since he didn't get in the movie like the others he's rumoured to be little more than a bitter drunk, endlessly swimming up and down boring hapless tourists with stories about growing up with Michealangelo, Donatello and the zany Raphael. I never saw him. He must have been down the pub when I was there.



Look! See the nice Vietnamese people enjoying their bodies first thing in the morning. It is true I hardly saw any fat people in Vietnam. When I got off the plane at Newark the first thing I thought was this: Aren't there a lot of fat fuckers at Newark Airport?

In addition to badminton (who's nets were strung exactly at the right height to garrotte a 6ft tall jogging westerner. Some war habits die hard, eh chaps? And boy, did I laugh...I laughed and laughed, as I fell gasping to the floor clutching my trachea....) people were doing Tai Chi in groups. One old guy was punching a wall for fun. He looked like he'd auditioned for the role of mean Mr Myagi, but never got the part. (Maybe Hanoi is full of failed film wannabees? The Vegas waitresses of Vietnam...?) On the east side of the park was a huge aerobics class that spread to both sides of the street. Directions were shouted out over the music (I couldn't see who was leading the class, but obviously everyone else could) and lots of women were bending and stretching on the street. Some of the moves were a bit rude. As I ran past I noticed that some of the grannies were doing saucy pelvic thrusts and doing them quite well too. Maybe being a Granny, that's something you've had a bit of practise at? Then I felt a bit weird that I'd been appreciating the pelvic thrust of someone's granny (Not that it would have been any better if it had been my granny).



Train tracks. I looked for a band to photograph on them but no one in Vietnam has the time or inclination to be in a band. I think they're all busy trying to make a living instead.



This is what it looks like just before the lights change. Come on, lover....



A nice peaceful pagoda on the west lake. Possibly the quietest spot in all of Hanoi.



I liked the streets in Hanoi. I liked the way the electricity power cables are a cluster-fuck. It's the roadie in me - I notice things like that. (When I went to watch the Water Puppet show, before it started, I saw that the curtain wasn't hanging straight. It bugged me so much that had it not been for the fact it was hanging in a pond of stagnant water then I might have gone over to straighten it).



A lovely street market.



Many of the streets in Hanoi seemed to sell the same thing, making them look almost themed. This street sold chinese lanterns, decorations and lots of red envelopes for giving money during festivals.



This street was a motorbike maintainence street. These lovely gelato-looking things are, in fact, different oils and grease for engines. I only found this out because I bought one on a waffle cone.



Lots of vendors all over Vietnam carried their wares like this. I think it's really hard work. They were all women too, I don't remember seeing (m)any men doing this kind of work. The men were all busy selling motorbike-grease waffle cones.



Everyone had Bananas. Often the women selling fruit like this on the street were quite cheeky with westerners. Being a vain, imperialist pig, I enjoyed their flirting and the feeling of power it gave me. Despite my 6ft height, I am a very, very small man.



When people weren't carrying things on bamboo planks over their shoulders, they carried them on their bikes / motorbikes. I saw everything from 3 live, caged pigs, large panes of glass, to heavy machine-tools / drills all balanced precariously on the backs of motorbikes.



Recycling. Arf.



It's very, very fresh.




No, I didn't....



Squids in.



We met under a Banyan Tree after dark, the city hot and chaotic around us. These women spoke no English, I spoke no Vietnamese. It sounds romantic, right? I pointed at their giant deep-fryers and they fed me with unhealthy fried deliciousness. We never spoke. I wonder if they're missing me now? I miss you, deep-fried meat-pasty-thing Ladies, I miss you.