Celebrating Tết in Hanoi

It turns out that we can’t get enough of New Year festivities, so we arrived in Hanoi just in time for Tết – not exactly our best move. It’s a big deal in Vietnam, roughly equivalent to how we treat Christmas in the UK, but celebrations continue for SIX DAYS! During this time, most businesses close and transport is either fully booked or not running at all. By the time that we noticed (okay full disclosure – Dad noticed, as he and Mum were joining us for another couple of weeks of travel), it was too late to change our plans, so we found ourselves a comfortable apartment in the Old Quarter and prepared for a few days of hibernation.

Oli and I landed from Tokyo on the eve of the Lunar New Year and met up with Mum and Dad who had arrived from London earlier in the day. We were busy catching up when all hell broke loose – in what was to be one of many massive contrasts to Japan, it turns out that Vietnamese New Year celebrations involve a phenomenal number of EXTREMELY loud fireworks! We headed out to our terrace to watch and tried not to dive for cover as the whole city seemed to erupt with explosions. What a welcome!

The next day, we headed out for a walk and expected to find the streets pretty deserted, as we had read. While they were certainly quieter than usual (crossing the road wasn’t quite such a near-death experience as we’ve experienced previously), there were still plenty of people out and about. In much of the old town, it seemed that Western tourists like us far outnumbered locals. However, at the Ngoc Son temple, which sits on an island in Hoàn Kiếm lake, it was a different story – the whole area was buzzing with local families who were dressed up in beautiful clothes and taking group photographs. There was a real carnival atmosphere and it was lovely to just wander and observe.

We might not have had a near-death experience crossing any roads, but we certainly did have one trying to cross a square near the lake, where all of the children of Hanoi were out in force driving tiny cars with reckless abandon. Some of them were driven by their parents (using remote controls), but this didn’t much seem to help matters! It was properly happy chaos, though, and thankfully none of us were seriously run over.

The next few days were spent watching Hanoi come back to life. Many of the best restaurants and street food stalls were closed at first, but we always managed to find something to eat. As things started to reopen, we finally sat down (on tiny plastic stools, of course) to a bowl of steaming phở at an incredibly popular stall near our apartment – some proper street food at last! Phở is Vietnam’s national dish and probably its best known food export, a light beef noodle soup topped with fresh spring onions, coriander, lime and chilli. The northern Vietnamese version is for purists, as it keeps the focus on the broth and doesn’t contain any additional hoi sin sauce, shellfish or beansprouts (all of which can sometimes be found in southern versions). Delicious!

Mum and Dad didn’t join us for that meal, partly because Dad was determined that there was no way we were getting him to sit down on one of the tiny stools (or that there was no way we were getting him up if he did sit down)! But he soon succumbed in order to try a Bánh mì, which is essentially a baguette (hinting at Vietnam’s history with the French) filled with meat and salad and some added Vietnamese flair, such as pickled vegetables, coriander, chilli and fish sauce. Oli describes it as probably the world’s best fusion food, and I think he might just be right.

Get this man a Bánh mì!

Another culinary highlight in Hanoi was at Bún Bò Nam Bộ Bách Phương, where you place an order using my favourite method: holding up the number of fingers to represent how many portions you’d like. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I do love it when a restaurant does one thing and does it well! Even if it didn’t taste so delicious, Bún bò Nam Bộ is still one of our favourites because it has the greatest name ever and just rolls off the tongue. It literally translates as ‘beef noodles of the south’, but slightly confusingly is most associated with Hanoi (which is in the north). Anyway, it’s a classic Vietnamese combo of cool (but not fridge-cold) vermicelli noodles, seasoned stir-fried beef, plenty of salad leaves, fresh herbs and pickled carrot, and topped with peanuts and crispy fried shallots. It arrives with a separate pot of fish sauce, which you pour over your bowl and mix everything up together. The result is so much more than the sum of its parts – and the taste definitely belies its simple appearance.

Bún bò Nam Bộ

I’m still totally convinced that Vietnamese food has the best balance of healthiness and deliciousness of anywhere in the world. Even so, we’d been eating rather a lot of it, so it was time for some exercise. The number one activity on Dad’s list for their trip was to do some cycling, although I rather think he had in mind cycling through the peaceful paddy fields of Central Vietnam, rather than what we had planned – a lively cycle around the West Lake. We’d read that this 18km route was a pretty peaceful cycle, for Hanoi. And indeed, the roads were probably pretty quiet for Hanoi, but it was still total chaos! Our bikes probably didn’t help matters – with some creativity, I think we might just about have been able to build one roadworthy bike from the four we hired! Still, it was a great way to see an area of the city we’d not previously visited and thankfully we all lived to tell the tale.

We didn’t visit many of the classic Hanoi sights this time, partly because of Tết closures. However, we were all keen to visit ‘Train Street’, as it is known. Although we saw the railway tracks running through impossibly narrow gaps between houses on our last visit, I don’t think Train Street as it is now (a row of bars and cafes run by residents so that mad tourists like us can watch trains pass within arm’s length) really existed in 2014. I would normally consider wandering around on train tracks a terrible idea – and of course it is, but somehow it seems okay when the local children and dogs are outside their houses playing around the tracks. There are actually several ‘Train Streets’, each with a distinct character. We really enjoyed walking up and down the one south of the station, which has more local life (and more passing trains)…

..but it was the one north of the station where we watched two trains steam through en route to Sapa, a nervewracking but exhilerating experience. Although the whole area has become quite commercialised (something we normally try to avoid, with varying levels of success), I actually quite liked the idea that local residents had been able to transform their fortunes from living in what must have been quite a noisy and inconvenient location into a lucrative business opportunity.

We really enjoyed our extended stay in Hanoi during Tết. Next up, we’ll finally visit Halong Bay, after a pesky typhoon in 2014 thwarted our plans.

Where next? That’s an excellent question!

Just in case you’ve recently joined us or fancy a reminder, this has been our route so far…

…but we also thought it was about time to give an update on our plans – it’s been a while!

Late January to late March 🇻🇳🇰🇭🇹🇭🇱🇦🇲🇾🇸🇬

We’ve been keeping a close eye on the Chinese borders and available ferry connections since we arrived in Seoul on 23rd November, but sadly it doesn’t look like things are changing quickly enough for us to continue our journey over land and sea. So, we are reluctantly boarding a flight to leapfrog China and take us towards Southeast Asia. Although we’re not delighted at taking another flight, at least this comes at the end of two full months of travel through South Korea and Japan. Our goal to minimise our carbon emissions is definitely encouraging us to think carefully about our route and we’ve flown much less frequently than we would have done otherwise.

So, it’s onto Southeast Asia, where we plan to spend at least two months making our way from Vietnam’s capital, Hanoi, to the city state of Singapore. We’ll be resisting temptation to take any of the cheap flight connections around the region and are looking forward to some marathon bus and train journeys. After being spoilt with a very clean and comfortable couple of months in South Korea and Japan, it’s back to some more intrepid travel for us!

We plan to move south through Vietnam, passing through the hectic old town of Hanoi, the ancient capital Hue, the relaxed fishing village of An Bang, and the colonial hilltop town of Dalat before reaching the chaos of Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon). We’re then planning to have a ‘holiday’ (ha!) in the tiny Con Dao archipelago. Next, we’ll turn north into Cambodia and Thailand, then briefly cross into Laos before heading south again through Thailand towards peninsular Malaysia and finally Singapore. We’ve visited a few of these countries previously, so we’ll be trying to resist temptation to only revisit lovely places we’ve been before and find some new spots! We are incredibly excited about the food (no change there).

Disclaimer: this route is definitely subject to change!

April and early May 🇳🇿

After Southeast Asia, our plans are even more open, but we have the vague idea that we’d like to go ‘all the way around’. So, we spent a long time looking at sea connections to Indonesia or the Philippines and then onto Australia to continue our route this way, but there are quite a lot of pirate-infested waters around this region 😬 I’m assuming that walking the plank isn’t actually as fun as it sounds, so we might give this a miss. Instead, we’ll probably head to New Zealand in time for autumn and spend April and part of May there.

We considered whether to fly from Singapore to Cairns, travel down the east coast of Australia towards Melbourne (a city we’re both keen to visit) and then fly from Melbourne to Auckland, in order to minimise our time in the air.

However, our calculations suggested that the difference in carbon emissions between taking one direct flight or taking two shorter flights would have been minimal. Once we took into account the estimated emissions from our overland travel too, it was actually slightly better to fly the whole way from Singapore to Auckland (1171 vs 1185 kgCO2e). This wasn’t what we expected, so we’re glad we checked! Based on these carbon calculations and the fact that we’re a bit tight for time to get to New Zealand before winter sets in, we’ll have to save Melbourne for next time we travel around the world 😉

Mid-May onwards 🇺🇸🇨🇦

Next, it’ll be on to North America to cross the continent before flying home to see friends and family for a while around August time. We really wanted to take a trip on the Queen Mary II (the world’s only ocean liner), which would have taken us from New York to Southampton in style and without flying, but sadly, it turns out that cruise ships emit at least twice as much carbon as flying. Having discovered the astronomical carbon emissions of this type of ship, it doesn’t sound like such an appealing alternative any more!

As always, our plans are very fluid but we’d be delighted to pick up any waifs and strays who might find themselves near our route – just let us know…

Japan in 12 hot baths

I’ve really enjoyed discovering more about bathing cultures across the world – in the UK, spas are expensive and not really an everyday activity, so finding that I could visit a lovely Soviet bath house in Almaty for around £8 or a luxury Korean jjimjilbang in Busan for around £13 was a bit of a revelation, and I had high hopes for the onsen of Japan. They didn’t disappoint. In fact, I’ve just counted and during our month in Japan, I had 16 baths in 12 different onsen. Not bad!

My top 3 onsen experiences

Before we came to Japan, I knew I wanted to visit at least one onsen, but I thought we might need to seek it out. Not so – they are EVERYWHERE! Technically, to qualify as an onsen, they should be filled from a natural hot spring source rather than artificially-heated water, but actually even this wasn’t as scarce as I’d expected (Japan being as seismically-active as it is), and most baths we visited were true onsen.

Onsen come in both private form (e.g. in a hotel or a ryokan) and public form (e.g. in an onsen town). They are mostly sex-segregated and fully nude, but not all. Some are indoor, some are outdoor (known as rotemburo), and many offer both indoor and outdoor bathing. Some pools are made of roughly hewn rock, whereas others are made of smooth cypress wood. There are even some onsen that are on beaches or in rivers that have little-to-no infrastructure surrounding them and are totally free to visit (such as Mizunashi Kaihin in Hokkaido) – in short, there’s something for everyone.

Best Rotemburo: Ganiba Onsen

We took a 500 km day trip on the Shinkansen to reach Ganiba Onsen, set in a ryokan in the small mountain village of Nyūtō Onsen. Admittedly it was rather a long way to travel to take a bath and it wasn’t fancy (in fact, the facilities inside were pretty basic and the outside changing room was literally frozen!) but bathing in the forest while surrounded by deep snow drifts was positively magical.

Best hotel onsen: Dormy Inn, Shimonoseki

Actually, we stayed in several hotels that had really lovely, modern rooftop onsen with views over their respective cities, but this was the first and was a really pleasant surprise. It felt like a very worthy consolation prize when our ferry from South Korea had been cancelled and we found ourselves arriving in Japan a day late and in a different city than originally planned!

Best novelty bath: Saraku sand baths

This one was mostly memorable because it followed the frankly bizarre but lovely experience of being buried in hot volcanic sand on a rainy beach! Oli says he got over his fear of public (well, onsen-based) nudity here, although he promises not to take advantage of this newfound freedom too often when we return to the UK.

Etiquette (i.e. How not to scare your fellow bathers)

Step 1: Don’t have a tattoo

Ok, I appreciate the ship might have sailed for some people on this! But fortunately for me, I don’t have any tattoos so this step was easy. In Japan, tattoos have a strong association with members of organised crime syndicates and so they tend not to be welcome in onsen, since it is presumably less risky for staff to ban all tattoos than to tell members of the yakuza that they can’t come in. I assume that no one genuinely believes that a tourist with a heart on their hip or a butterfly on their bum really has anything to do with the yakuza, but it’s difficult to tell – it’s hard to read the subtext when you can’t even read the text. In any case, I’ve read that making an effort to cover a tattoo (e.g. with a bandage) is normally enough, or there are some onsen towns (including Kinosaki Onsen, where we visited) that are happy for people with tattoos to enter.

Step 2: Remove your shoes

This is very important! Sometimes there are lockers, sometimes there are shoe racks, but either way, your shoes (or slippers, if you’re already inside a hotel) come off before you enter the building, pay, or do anything else. Don’t do as Katie did (inadvertently) and leave your shoes on for even a moment too long. The horrified reaction was honestly like she’d killed a kitten for fun.

Step 3: Get dressed up in your birthday suit

Most onsen require you to be naked, but apparently not all – there are some mixed outdoor onsen where women can wear swimwear or more commonly a yuami-gi (bathing dress). Perhaps it says all that is needed about attitudes towards gender in Japan that this isn’t deemed to be necessary for men – from what I read, women covering up in mixed-sex baths is sometimes seen as necessary to avoid staring, but the same doesn’t apply for men. In fact, men aren’t even allowed to cover up. So self-conscious men need not apply!

Anyway, I didn’t visit any baths where people covered up – in fact, I read that to do so might give people the impression you are trying to hide a disease 😬 So, in short, Step 3 normally involves popping all your clothes into a locker in the changing rooms before entering the baths. This is also the moment to remove your face mask (which are still widely worn in Japan) – or as I like to think of it, “no knickers, no mask”. Do with that motto what you will! You should also leave your big towel in your locker and only take the small towel into the baths.

Step 4: Wash wash wash

This is an easy bit – basically take a pre-bath shower so that you are clean before going into the shared water. But just to keep you on your toes, the showers aren’t the stand-up affairs you might have in mind, but are normally taken perching on a low stool. There’s usually free shampoo, conditioner and shower gel, and sometimes also things like facial cleansers. These were often quite nice products even in otherwise no-frills onsen. Just try not to slither off the slippery stool and onto the floor once lathered up with soap suds!

Some places also encouraged you to splash yourself with water from a jug before climbing into the baths, in order to get accustomed to the temperature (they varied, but some baths were seriously hot!)

Step 5: Time to soak

Ok finally, it’s time to actually take a bath. Hair, towels, or anything other than your now-clean body are not welcome in the water for hygiene reasons, so you need to find somewhere to put your small towel, since there are normally no hooks or shelves in the bath. There’s an easy solution – just perch it on your head! I tended to twist mine into a turban (which had the added benefit of keeping my hair out of the way), but most people really do just fold the towel neatly and balance it on the top of their head!

Step 6: Dry with your small towel

Now it’s your small towel’s big moment. Before going back into the changing room, you need to dry off with your small towel, as bringing any drips into the changing room is frowned upon. Quite why this can’t be done with your big towel is still a bit of a mystery to me, but it’s just not the thing to do. Once you’re dry, you can then re-enter the changing room, where your big towel awaits but is now pretty much superfluous.

Step 7: Enjoy the powder room

Once dry and dressed (perhaps in your yukata), there are rows of stools in front of sinks and mirrors to dry your hair and complete your beauty routine. Some onsen had pretty extensive ranges of free products available, and I’m reliably informed by Oli that the men’s powder rooms were just as well-equipped with beauty products. Nice to see some gender equality there, at least! His hair was quite long while we were in Japan, and he kept emerging from the baths with some alarmingly gravity-defying hair styles, having got quite into blowdrying his hair.

I found it pretty interesting to observe that Japanese women really do visit the onsen to wash and get ready for the day – it’s not at all a novelty ‘spa’ experience. So, in the mornings, the powder rooms of hotel onsen tended to be busy with women who were travelling for business in their work attire doing their hair and makeup. I also joined in and did the same (without the ‘going to work’ part) – in many of the places we stayed, I didn’t even use our private bathroom!

As you can probably tell, I’m a massive convert to the onsen way of life, and I can’t wait to try out more bathing experiences elsewhere in the world.