SIMPLY (t)RAVELLING

The Old Quarters

 

The rain had stopped when we left the Dong Xuan market, so we continued our day jaunt around the Old Quarter. Strolling through the quaint old town was like a step back in time, where everything was very much kept to the old fashion way. Thin and tall buildings were squeezed along the narrow and shady streets, with little space for parking or driveway sort of explains why motorbikes are dominion. Street vendors selling trinkets and peddlers with shoulder poles, sidewalk food stalls with kiddie stools, locals gambling on the five-foot way, bicycles, tricycles and motorcycles whizzed past with frenetic beeping - you named it; Hanoi Old Quarter is actually a quitessence and manifestation of Vietnam’s true culture.

 

Typical scene at Hang Ngang street. Most all of the streets in Old Quarter are named after a “Hang” which I first thought must mean street or alley in Vietnamese, but later found out that it is actually means trade. The old town was arranged in an orderly way where a certain products or merchandise could be found specifically on a certain street, as indicated in the street names. Thus, Hang Ngang street translates as clothing street, silverware could be found on Hang Bac street, Hang Gay is famous for silks and the list continues so on.

 

  Tourists on cyclo tour. A cheap and quick way to explore the old town at VND60k per hour.

 

 A glance by the cyclo rider. 

 

A street vendor with shoulder poles selling vegetables spotted along the Hang Ngang street.

 

We came across a lady with great balancing act. America Next Top Model should be ashamed.

 

Intersections at Hang Giay street.

 

Hanoi 1946 War Memorial at a park near Quan Thanh street.

 

Two street peddlers taking shelter from the rain near Hang Dau street.

 

In contrast to two young ladies on bicycles stopping for red light in front of the roman-like architecture of Hang Dau Water Tower.

 

A train track cutting through the neighbourhood. Imagine seeing everyday trains passing through your back door or kitchen window, while doing laundry or cooking. To think on how they sleep was enough to make me insomnia for nights.

 

Being Hanoi’s vital transport, it was norm to see bikes being used as a beast of burden, transporting loads bound for local markets.

 

Another distinctive observation we made was on how jumbled up and messy the town wiring was. I wouldn’t be surprised if the electrician here is having a tough day figuring out which wire to fix in case of a black out!

 

Spotted the vintage 1936 Citroen Traction Avant somewhere near Hang Bac street. A posh car for the posh travellers.

 

From Hang Bac, we turned up at Lo Su street, with numerous mortuary shops. Several headstones were on display on the sidewalk – complete with names, photos and all, stacked in between urns and coffins. Craftsmen open tables at the very front, engraved the ordered stones totally ignoring bemused passers by (like us!). This guy caught my attention though, as he was seen so engrossed with texting while the photos of the deceased at the back were like silent spectators of his languid demeanour.

 

A shabby old house at Hang Tre street.

 

Straying in the maze of Old Quarter back alleys, we ended up at a fresh market on Cau Go street.

 

Market is always my favourite spot everytime I travel, as it offers an insight to locals everyday life and a real approach to the country’s sociocultural. Not to mention the many interesting photography subjects too.

 

Fresh, ripe and colorful veggies at the market. Spotted nothing unusual really, there this pomegranates, starfruits, mushrooms, calamansi, tomatoes, carrots, cucumbers, some green beens, baby corns, capsicum et cetera, et cetera.  Now I sound like my mom, and no, this is not cooking blog.

  

A cute girl in pink waited patiently for her mother doing the shopping. I just love her composure.

 

While at the opposite juncture a lady in red buying some beef from one of the street vendor. The attires were a bit formal for such occasion, don’t you think?

 

 Fermented fish a la Hanoi, something like our own ikan pekasam.

 

A girl in conical hat hagling over some groceries. I found out the conical hat came a bit handy myself, especially during the intermittent rains.

 

Three generations waiting for customers. Drizzling afternoon, and patrons were shortcoming.

 

A lady arranging the chickens into a more attractive display. Creative folks. 

 

It’s already late afternoon and the lady here was doing the clean up. Watching from behind was the lot’s owner, I guess. She’s selling the seafood stuff, and that was very big  squids she had back there.

 

Previously this was what she was cleaning,  a hefty lot of squiggling and squirmishing tiny things in the white box. Yup, these were food. Vietnamese are very much into eating almost everything, from typical food up to dogs, frogs, insects and slimy worms. The hardship of their past life must have something to do with it, and they embraced it in the name of survival. That quite earns my respect, nonetheless.

 

Owh, not forgetting these venomous  concoctions spotted at the airport on our last day. Cobra, or other vile creatures are immersed in the rice wine for their essences, which is said to have medicinal values and the practice rooted back from mainland China. They even eat the flesh and drink the beating heart of the snake for immediate effect, and the benefits range from curing hair loss up to the boosting of sexual performance (poor animal!)

 

Right down the market we arrived at the familiar Hoan Kiem lake, and decided to visit the iconic Ngoc Son temple on the nearby island.

 

 Connecting the temple was a red pedestrian bridge, the synonymous Hanoi image.

 

The bridge, popularly known as The Huc is painted in bright red against the deep green surroundings makes it hard to be missed. After a long, winding walk in the maze of Old Quarter, the panaroma was indeed soothing to the eyes.

 

Two late worshippers inside the Ngoc Son temple. Literally means “The Jade Mountain Temple”, it was built in dedication to the a particular local hero who defeated the Mongol invasion sent by Kublai Khan in the 14th century.

 

 The frontal view of the temple. The time was 6.00pm and it was about to be closed for the day.

 

The view of Hanoi at dusk, from the Ngoc Son temple.

 

We were among the last to leave the temple, and a walk back to our guest house in Hang Hanh street we bypassed these alfresco eatery. Note the small stools, ingenious way  by the street vendors where portability and compact storage are an important factors. Not so friendly though for those who is big in the middle (it was very hard to find big, fat locals by the way).

  

 Night in Hanoi was never dull, especially at the Hoan Kiem lake.

 

Street vendor minding a small shop selling ciggies and snacks next to our guest house.

 

A glimpse of a typical house interior in Hanoi.

 

Despite the gorgeous seafoods we found at the market, we ended our day in Hanoi back at the guest house with some ’home made’ dish.

 

The End.