The Perfume Pagoda
We woke up early the next morning, checked out of citygate and headed to Prince II to catch the van to the perfume pagoda - about 2 and a half hours from Ha Noi. The first 45mins or so was spent picking up the other travelers from various spots around Ha Noi. The traffic on a tuesday morning was pretty crazy and finally around 8.45 we were on our way out of the city. The entertainment till we got to the countryside was provided by a Malaysian Aussie called Adrian. The chap was in Ha Noi for 5 days and was clearly not used to this kind of travel and had pretty sketchy knowledge of the world around him. He sat behind me and for the entirety of the journey engaged in a chat with a jovial brit who lives in Japan. He said some spectacularly stupid things and asked even stupider questions - but by far my favourite piece of dialogue was as follows.
Adrian - So what’s it like in Birmingham?
Brit - Pretty crap really - i hate it.
Adrian - How come?
Brit - Lot of violence.
Adrian - I see. So a lot of militant activity then?
Brit - (Pause). Well, not really, no.
Wars in Birmingham aside, the drive became increasingly pretty. After leaving the city we shifted to smaller rural roads abreast of acres of golden and green paddy with the intermittent conical hat making an appearance. The farmers were drying paddy at every available sunny spot - the road included. In some places the entire road was covered in paddy being dried and tended to by farmers who deftly stepped out of the way of the vehicle and then returned to patiently smoothen the paddy after we passed. 2 hours later we slowed down by the slow moving river and came to a halt by a large number of metallic boats. From here we would be rowed for another hour in order to reach the perfume pagoda. Each boat was pretty small, narrow but long - leaving room for 4 passengers squatting over a mini-bench in two rows and one rower. It was completely open and the 11am sun was baking down. The conical hat sellers made a killing. We shared a boat with a young German couple. Despite the sun and the guilt of having an old lady row 4 able bodied young people, the boat ride was extremely pleasant. There were no engines within earshot, no chatter (we ensured Adrian’s boat had a good head start) - just the sound of a paddle stroking the water and a few bird and insect calls. My mind went back to the previous evening’s puppet show which placed so much emphasis on how rural life in Viet nam revolves around the river. We saw the duck farming, the little children dancing around delightedly in the water - the sun shimmering on the water cascading down their bodies as their laughter echoed on the surrounding hills. A bright red dragon fly hitched a ride with us as we passed a man rowing a tiny wooden boat with his hands, seemingly in search of lotus flowers. Another even more bizarre character stood by his boat in shoulder high water sheltered by a purple umbrella - seemingly doing nothing.
Despite the uncomfortable squatting bench (made to suit the squatting position that people in viet nam and many other south east asian countries adopt when relaxing) we didn’t feel the hour go by and soon we had reached our destination with an impatient Adrian pacing up and down on the shore, fanning himself furiously. We walked up the steps and were given a choice of an hour long hike to the peak or a quick cable car ride for 40,000 Dong. Most of us opted for a cable car to the top and walking back down - which turned out to be the way forward. The main pagoda was, it turned out, hardly a pagoda as we know it. It was a massive cave, the mouth of which was reached by climbing down 126 steps, with a huge stalagmite guarding the entrance. We spent the next hour or so exploring this fascinating place. Ancient Chinese scripture was carved into the rock, immortalising the monks who used the cave as a haven for meditation. Further inside, reached by more slippery steps, there were shrines with elaborately decorated shiny statues in a typical Mahayana buddhist style. I spent much of the time staring around me, mouth agape, trying to absorb it all in - the wafts of incense, the cool, still air and the echoes of ppl speaking in hushed voices interrupted by the odd drip of water from the roof of the cave. I spoke to a guy who said that the last time he came the place was full of Viet Namese pilgrims paying homage - thankfully it was quiet this morning with just a handful of ppl wandering around the cave.
All too soon it was time to leave and we set off on foot to descend back to base. On the way down we stopped at some of the other pagodas - one built into a smaller cave and another sprawling complex including a number of ornate mahayana shrine rooms, gentile gardens and ponds. Lunch followed at an open canteen style restaurant and despite its simple and large scale production, the food was superb. The Viet namese favourite - morning glory (water spinach) braised in garlic, became a firm favourite of mine as well. By the time we left the perfume pagoda it was almost 3pm and the boat ride back was even more pleasant as the sun and heat had eased somewhat. As ripples of water gently lapped our boat, I didn’t really want to get out of the river and get back into the minivan back to Ha Noi. The traffic as we approached Ha Noi was hectic - for several minutes we wouldn’t budge as mini-dramas unfolded on the street outside the window. Motorcycles squeezed through the narrowest of gaps, people shouted at one another through the handkerchiefs covering their mouths and one SUV was stuck in the middle of a narrow road - completely out of place. Suddenly the traffic eased after one junction and we shot through to the centre of the old quarter to reach Prince II. We were due to travel to Ha Long Bay the next morning so we went to the travel agent’s to tell them where to pick us up but as soon as we got there we ran into a set back.
Viet: “Sir we be try to contact you all day - where were you?”
me: “Was out of Ha noi, what’s wrong?”
Viet: “Sir there’s cyclone in Ha Long - can’t take the boat tomorrow - we reschedule”
Bad form. We have a quick discussion and decide to shift Ha Long by a couple of days to let the storm ease and head to Sa Pa instead. But we were too late to catch a night train so we would have to spend the next day in Ha Noi and head out to Sa Pa in the night.
Having settled our travel plans we wanted to try a different place for dinner and had an eye on a cha spot that was recommended by the LP. Cha is another Ha Noi favourite - and is basically flesh cooked on small grills on the street. Follow your nose they said. The place we tried was just outside the OQ and by the time we got there it was quite late and the best dishes had run out. Communication was near impossible and as we sat at the makeshift dining room on the pavement, we hoped for the best that we’d get what we ordered. Eventually we did get what we had asked for but quantity was a bit limited. Most of the staff was watching tv inside and one heavily pregnant girl counted the day’s proceeds in front of us. When we ordered some additional dishes they looked quite perplexed and stared for a good few seconds before going to the kitchen. It was only 9.30 or so, but clearly quite late by Viet Namese standards. We headed back to the OQ looking for dessert and spent about an hour getting lost in the process of looking for a cafe called baguette & chocolat. It was a heck of a lot harder getting orientated in the night, but the experience was fun in its own way. The OQ was bustling at night. While many of the markets were winding down for the day, the pavement bars were just kicking in. Bia was overflowing as little tables and squatting benches spilled on to the street as the chatter reached a crescendo. I could easily see the central OQ becoming like Khao San road in Bangkok or Thamel in Kathmandu. But for now - despite the number of white people walking around, the laundry spots, money exchange and travel agencies lining the streets - the Old Quarter of Ha Noi retains to an extent a more unique viet namese character and charm. Having traversed the OQ, east to west, we gave up and settled on a lovely spot called Cafe de Paris and R appeased her chocolate crepe craving. We got back to the hotel around 11 - exhausted. Luckily the next day would be quite chilled out - a chance to explore Ha Noi at leisure before taking the night train to Sa Pa.
