"Good morning Vietnam!"

19.-20.07.

Hanoi Madness - it's not for the faint-hearted

Since Milo, Lena's best friend from school, called us in May and scrambled our vacation plans, our usually organized family has been in chaos. Changes to our plans (instead of going to Brittany with a tent, we are now heading to Southeast Asia during the rainy season) are already a mental challenge for us, and then such a big one…

But no matter, we definitely don't want to miss out on Milo's and Mai's Vietnamese wedding. Vietnam is anyway on our bucket list, even though we probably would have picked a different time to travel, outside of the rainy months. But, who cares about a little rain...?

We plan to leave on 19.7. We want to book flights just before, and doubts are confidently smiled away. As optimistically predicted by the absolute best personal haase-style travel consulting, everything goes well in the end. Two no-shows (passengers who do not arrive for their booked flight), and just in time, we grab the last three seats to Doha. With a bit of running, where Lena quickly books a return flight because otherwise, we supposedly aren't allowed to enter Vietnam, we make it through security and board the plane at the last minute. Lars with severe back pain (man is getting old…) right at the front (1K, for all the nerds interested), and Ida and I at the back (41 B and C). And yes, that is truly all the way at the back. The entertainment system is broken, but who cares, we are on our way, that's all that matters right now.

In Doha, we make a short stop and look for a terrace. There isn't one. Probably, the Qataris can't imagine that anyone would voluntarily want to enjoy the 40-degree desert air.

Instead, there is a beautiful tropical house in the center of the airport.

The onward flight to Hanoi was briefly at risk as well. After all guests boarded, we were finally allowed to join. What an emotional rollercoaster. Poor nerves. After nearly 7 hours of turbulent flight, this time with Lena in 1K, the rest of the travel group at least in 18B & C, warm, humid air greets us, and slowly, the tension eases, fatigue takes over, and the grins get wider and wider. We are here. "Good morning Vietnam," hello adventure!

A Grab car (Vietnamese Uber) takes us to the old town of Hanoi. "20$. Same same," is the answer to the question about the costs and the request for the taximeter. All clear, that fits for the 50-minute ride. Our driver communicates enthusiastically with us in Vietnamese, he translates some things using his phone, while we guess others. He tells us that one cannot drive faster than 80 km/h because the traffic is too crazy. That's true: on the highway, mopeds are coming straight at us in our lane, cows cross our path, children ride without helmets wedged in between their parents on small scooters, bicycles weave among the clunky trucks, and our German TÜV would absolutely delight in the state of these vehicles. However, accidents are said to be rare. Vietnamese people are clever, the phone translates for us. They know how to drive, which our driver impressively demonstrates while keeping his left hand on the phone, listening to voice messages or talking, and simultaneously making the typical gesture that seems almost like an addiction: HONKING!

Additionally, our clever driver watches videos during the transfer on how to add a tip to the Grab app and charges a hefty 6€ upon arrival. We don't mind. After nearly 20 hours of travel, we are just grateful to have arrived.

Unfortunately, the friendly lady at the hotel reception tells us that our room is not ready yet. So, we leave our luggage at the hotel and set off in our business class smart casual outfits into the chaos of the old town.

The foot has barely touched the street when two honks sound from the right and from the left, a high-pitched "MASSAGE?!" resonates. Yes, we have arrived in Hanoi. The sidewalk is barely usable because it is continually blocked by scooters, filled with goods and displays, littered, or completely absent due to broken concrete slabs.

But we quickly get used to the only reliable rule here: Do not stop! Whoever hesitates loses.

As crazy as it sounds, traffic is actually flowing. Everything is a jumble, not following any apparent rules, accompanied by wild honking. Slowly, but steadily. Probably, the horn itself is the only unifying Vietnamese form of the road traffic regulations, as otherwise, this perfect chaos can't be explained.

At Hoan Kiem Lake, we try to acclimatize, meaning, sweat streams down even without moving. Even without rain, we are soaking wet.

On the promenade, seven-year-olds talk to us in pretty good English. They ask about our origin, favorite color, and pets. As we saw during our research about Hanoi in a travel documentary, the kids belong to a language school and practice on tourists while their teachers are filming diligently. How brave the little ones are! We are impressed and think that this type of language practice would also be beneficial in Frankfurt… whether English would then, however, be the language of choice and have the most supportive effect, we will leave open!

Back at the hotel, we are surprised with an upgrade to a room with a balcony, where an additional bed has been squeezed in. Very thoughtful, even though the balcony door unfortunately doesn’t open properly anymore due to the third bed. However, sweat as a lubricant does make entering and exiting a bit easier…

After a necessary afternoon nap, we head out again, and with slightly more awake eyes, one can slowly recognize the beauty in this absurd mess of alleys, the noise from speakers set up roadside, honking vehicles, and a bustling crowd! The colorful mixed architecture of opulent French colonial buildings and tall, narrow houses with some facades wild, some intentionally overgrown give the old town a quite attractive style.

Alongside countless cafés, restaurants, fashion shops, and massage parlors, which create a crazy hustle and bustle!

Nevertheless, the planned and recommended SHORT stay in the capital at the beginning of a vacation is indeed sensible, as a slow acclimatization to this country is by no means a startup in Hanoi.

One of the highlights, we are fortunate enough with our schedule to experience on our first night.

Since the French colonial era, a train operated by the company "Reunification Express" runs at regular intervals through the old town. "Initially," back in that colonial time about 100 years ago, there was still plenty of space around the tracks, but as the city grew, the houses gradually encroached closer to the tracks until they are now only a few centimeters apart from regular train traffic. A totally crazy sight that the locals have, of course, taken advantage of and are luring tourists (like us…) to have a coffee or beer directly by the tracks in their cafés and bars. As long as no train is running, one sits at their table directly by the rails until a signal tone prompts the staff to act quickly, folding tables away with a warning to retract their toes, out of caution for the train!

And how close the whole spectacle approaches, we actually experience on our own body, for more than a hand's breadth doesn’t fit between the knees and the passing cars!

Breathtaking and somehow completely insane that such a thing is allowed, thinks the German rule-lover! But not to experience it would be even more foolish, thinks the adventurer within us. The only fact that Vietnamese trains, unlike German trains, are allowed to discharge their waste via little spouts during their journey somewhat diminishes the olfactory fascination of this highlight.

After the train passes, wild hustle resumes, tables are placed back to the tracks, but people are already leaving the cafés again to continue their stroll through the city.

We follow suit and want to try our first Phõ of the vacation in one of the many street kitchens.

Phõ, a soup made from broth, optionally with chicken or beef with

rice noodles, spring onions, lemongrass, and coriander, the Vietnamese national dish is available on every corner for very little money and actually delights every member of the travel group, which brings serious relief to the adult part of the family. The beloved chicken nuggets with fries would have been harder to find here.

21.7.2025 - A matter of definition

A little rain, we thought. It surely can't be that bad, we thought. It must be quite interesting to experience, we still think.

The rainy season sounds so harmless. But in fact, it is not. Within a very short time, two typhoons have already hit China and Vietnam, and the third is approaching with tropical storm Wipha.

The hotel staff advises us to change our plans and preferably stay inland for the next few days. A tourist boat capsized yesterday in the popular Halong Bay, and 38 people did not survive this excursion. If the media can be believed, it was not the wind but too much rain that caused the tragedy.

In three days, we actually want to embark on a two-day tour on a ship, but we feel anything but comfortable with it and

decide to change our plans. We will sit out the worst wind and rain in a resort one hour north of downtown and only set off towards the coast on Thursday. Then on Friday to the ship. By then, it is supposed to have calmed down again, we hope.

Once the decision is made, our hearts feel lighter again, and with a quickly acquired umbrella, we continue on foot through the streets, which in some places now more resemble streams. At least there is one advantage: it seems like three fewer scooters are on the road, allowing us to stroll a bit more relaxed in the middle of the streets. Avoiding the overflowing storm drains, which have turned into urine channels, we use a laundry service to get the sports clothes back in shape (Ida and Lars jogged a round around the nearby lake as part of their summer training) and a football shop to supply Benny with local jerseys.

The friendly and communicative employee is a fan of the weak yellows from Dortmund, and he proudly shows us photos of himself with Reus, Hummels, and Co. from a promotional trip to Vietnam by BVB in 2022, which we try to acknowledge without facial contortions and spontaneous vomiting, and hold it like the locals: showing no displeasure, just smile and wave!

After further Phõ fortification and a foot massage/manicure/pedicure (here the reader is free to decide who from the travel group availed what service) we head back to the hotel, where at least we are given hope that the typhoon is "only" a tropical storm now. We hope along and are looking forward to our alternative plan tomorrow at the Amaya Home - Lodge, Spa & Restaurant in Soc Son!

We will report back.

Tam Biêt