A Travellerspoint blog

Entries about markets

Crocodiles on mopeds and other tales from Hanoi

The crazy street life of Vietnam's second city


View North East Vietnam 2012 on Chris Parsons's travel map.

Last year's brief visit to Hanoi left a strong impression, even though Jen and I weren't able to make the most of our time there. Arriving straight from the Himalayas, we were tired and preoccupied by lists of errands. We arranged excursions to take us out of the city, thinking we would prefer the tranquillity of the coast and countryside to rubbing shoulders with millions of Vietnamese. It was probably the right decision at the time but it left me feeling short-changed by Hanoi. So we did the obvious thing - we went back.

Returning less than a year later felt like a homecoming rather than a holiday. Not only were we reunited with our cycling chums, David (Painted Roads tour leader), Phong (local guide) and Eddie (impossible to categorize), but we instantly fell in love with the city all over again. Hanoi casts its spell in unexpected ways. The guidebooks may try to talk up its tourist sites, but it's not the prospect of puppets, pagodas or pickled propagandists that excites me. Instead, it's the pulsating bustle of Hanoians going about their daily business in the enchanting Old Quarter. This is the beating heart of the city, an inside-out place where everything happens on the street. Ladies in shimmering blouses and stilettos revving their mopeds; pensive groups of men hunched over their cờ tướng boards on street corners; flower sellers weaving their bicycles between uniformed schoolchildren; street food vendors stirring, frying, serving and smiling. With so much life on show, we were keen to brush up on our street photography.

A motorcyclist stops to check his phone on the busy road along Hoan Kiem Lake's east side

A motorcyclist stops to check his phone on the busy road along Hoan Kiem Lake's east side


Parents coming to collect their children in Hanoi cause a traffic jam outside the school gates

Parents coming to collect their children in Hanoi cause a traffic jam outside the school gates

The Old Quarter was our base for the few days we spent in the city. Here, we watched Hanoi wake up, go to work, take coffee, exercise and go to sleep. A great many hours were spent at the street café opposite our hotel, sipping glasses of bia hơi and watching the city pass us by. At other times I would go off to explore, walking the streets morning, noon and night in search of the unexpected. Despite venturing no more than a mile from the hotel, my senses were thoroughly overwhelmed.

At first light, the street vendors begin to appear. Every morning, an estimated 10,000 of them - mostly women - converge on Hanoi from the surrounding rural provinces, as they have done for centuries. They bring fresh produce from their farms, but it’s not just fruit and vegetables they sell. I passed one lady whose bamboo baskets had been transformed into mobile ponds full of splashing turtles. Fresh ingredients are very important in Vietnamese cuisine, so the street vendors fulfil the same role as a Tesco Express would in the UK.

These women are amongst the poorest people in the city, earning around US$2 a day. Worse still, their earnings can be confiscated by the overzealous police, who increasingly enforce local laws which place restrictions or even outright bans on street selling. I have since discovered that the British government has recently provided funding for a project to improve the lives of Hanoi's street vendors.

My attempt to go undercover in Hanoi falls short of the mark

My attempt to go undercover in Hanoi falls short of the mark


One of the many women who travel to Hanoi on a daily basis to earn a meagre living as a street trader

One of the many women who travel to Hanoi on a daily basis to earn a meagre living as a street trader


A street vendor completes a sale at one of Hanoi's many food markets

A street vendor completes a sale at one of Hanoi's many food markets

Hanoi’s street cafés are a local institution enjoyed by city folk and foreigners alike. Space is at a premium in the Old Quarter, so the clientele sit on child-sized plastic chairs out in the street and conduct high-volume conversation over the noise of passing mopeds. Many cafés serve the aforementioned bia hơi, a weak home brew costing around 8,000 dong (25p) a glass. The quality can vary but at that price, who's complaining?

Others are purveyors of Vietnamese-branded coffee, a distinctive beverage filtered slowly into the cup and mixed with condensed milk. The connoisseur’s choice is cà phê Chồn or “weasel coffee”, the world’s most expensive variety. The coffee beans have passed through the digestive tract of an Asian palm civet (a weasel-like animal) which supposedly takes the bitter edge off the taste. A rather bizarre fact which begs the obvious question: who discovered it?

A smoker with his glass of bia hoi at a street café in Hanoi

A smoker with his glass of bia hoi at a street café in Hanoi


A newspaper seller cycles past a Hanoi café in the city's Old Quarter

A newspaper seller cycles past a Hanoi café in the city's Old Quarter

To the south of the Old Quarter lies Hoan Kiem Lake, the spiritual heart of the city. I wrote a blog article last year which discussed the famous giant turtle which inhabits the lake, a creature so rare it seems destined to join the dodo on the path to extinction. There were no turtle sightings on this occasion, but our lakeside walks offered up a number of equally extraordinary visions.

Dragging ourselves down to Hoan Kiem at dawn, we found the paths and parks had been taken over by a small army of exercising Hanoians, all stretching, pumping and burning. Around the lake swarmed an anticlockwise wave of joggers and power-walkers, whilst in a public square nearby, impromptu classes were being held for aerobics, salsa, ballroom, tai chi and, my favourite of all, laughter yoga. Perhaps they were laughing at the committed fitness fanatic who was attempting to target all his major muscle groups whilst sat on a park bench.

Laughter yoga is the latest craze sweeping Hanoi

Laughter yoga is the latest craze sweeping Hanoi

In the evening, another swathe of the population descends on the lake’s leafy promenades. The exercisers are now a minority, but this only seems to encourage exhibitionist tendencies, judging from the shirtless men performing chin-ups on lampposts and five-minute headstands at the very edge of the water. Meanwhile, young lovers stroll hand in hand and wedding photographers fuss over their subjects as they contrive to maximise the romantic potential of the scene. Quite what the turtle makes of it all, I can only wonder.

Ly Thai To park is floodlit at night, providing a perfect stage for skateboarders, breakdancers and rollerbladers

Ly Thai To park is floodlit at night, providing a perfect stage for skateboarders, breakdancers and rollerbladers


Performing your yoga routine at the water's edge adds an element of danger!

Performing your yoga routine at the water's edge adds an element of danger!

The action has spread to the nearby square, where the painted lines of badminton courts are being put to good use. There are no racquets to be seen, however, for the game of choice is played with the feet. The Vietnamese call it đá cầu and have made it their national sport, but it originated as jianzi in China. The standard is (literally) very high, with some unbelievable agility on show as the players leap at the net to smash the shuttlecock down into the opponent’s forecourt with their feet.

Despite all the activity on show, the Vietnamese revert to type when it comes to road transport: everyone and everything travels by motorbike. In Bangkok airport’s duty free zone I came across a neat little book called Bikes of Burden, a photo journal from across Vietnam showing an amazing variety of cargo being transported on bikes, from furniture to scaffold frames, carpets to water tanks and livestock to ornamental goldfish. We kept an eye out for unusual bikes of burden ourselves and found the Hanoians more than lived up to expectations. My favourite was a giant cuddly crocodile toy about the same size as the rider. Sadly there’s no photo to prove this – I obviously wasn’t snappy enough.

Crocodile! Snappy! Ok, I’ll get my coat.

A typical scene in the Old Quarter, where all manner of goods are transported by motorbike

A typical scene in the Old Quarter, where all manner of goods are transported by motorbike


A bamboo ladder would be a challenge to carry by oneself, but a passenger helps to balance the load

A bamboo ladder would be a challenge to carry by oneself, but a passenger helps to balance the load

Posted by Chris Parsons 13:03 Archived in Vietnam Tagged people food markets bikes vietnam hanoi photography Comments (3)

How not to haggle


View Kathmandu to Kuala Lumpur 2011 on Chris Parsons's travel map.

We British are notoriously reticent when it comes to haggling, but in Southeast Asia's tourist markets it’s a skill you live and die by. And judging by my first clumsy attempt at Siem Reap's Night Market, my skills definitely needed honing.

Getting in to the Night Market is all part of the fun, as you have to run the gauntlet of fish massage stalls which line the street leading to the entrance. Ladies rush at you from both sides waving laminated price lists and shouting "Sir, sir, fish massaaaaa!" The first time this happened I was far too polite. "No thanks," I said to one hopeful woman, "I can get this in England." Her reply was instant. "My fish give better massaaaaa!"

Once inside you immediately lose your bearings in the labyrinth of covered alleys and hundreds of stalls all selling variations on the same theme. Most of the stuff was not worth a second glance, but then I spotted a stall selling t-shirts of a single design; a motif of the monkey god Hanuman in full battle dress. I can't explain why I liked it, but as soon as I saw it I knew I had to have one. I enquired about the price. "Five dollar," said the lady running the stall (US currency is king in Cambodia). Yes, it was cheap, but other stalls were asking US$2 (for admittedly inferior t-shirts) and knowing I should haggle, I offered her three. "No!" came the quick reply. "I give you four dollar, best price." Not satisfied with a 20% discount, I walked away, expecting her to call me back and agree to my offer. But she didn't. I couldn't look over my shoulder as that would betray my tactics, so I walked straight back out of the market - a humiliating failure by anyone's standards.

The next night I went back and braved the fish massage sellers again, this time with four dollars in my pocket.

Slightly embarrassed by my efforts in Cambodia, I resolved to do better at Chiang Mai's Night Bazaar, a massive enterprise which seems to occupy an entire district of the city. It made Siem Reap look like a garage sale.

Ten minutes in, and things were going well. I already had a pair of 'Oakley' sunglasses in my pocket for 100 baht (£2) and was hunting for the next bargain. Jen paused momentarily at a stall selling bamboo place mats and coasters. The stallholder sensed another gullible victim to prey on; I sensed an opportunity for some ruthless negotiation. His opening gambit for a set of six mats and coasters was 900 baht. ("Special price tonight sir!") I laughed at his gall, and decided to get him down to 400. The bartering was a tactical game and we were both putting in spirited performances. My adversary brandished a large calculator on which he theatrically bashed out lower and lower prices, each one accompanied by a well-rehearsed patter: "Look sir, this price for you only, don’t tell nobody, our secret!" On this occasion my walking away trick worked – three times. After 10 minutes his calculator display read 4-0-0, and victory was mine. I reached for my wallet triumphantly. Jen immediately took the wind out of my sails by announcing that she wasn't sure if she liked them enough, and anyway, how were we to carry them home? To the stallholder's bafflement, I had to walk away empty-handed, shrugging my shoulders apologetically.

The following night we went to the Sunday Walking Street, a road through the old city which transforms into a tourist market one evening every week (on a Sunday, funnily enough). We found a stall selling bamboo mats and coasters identical to those I had haggled over the night before. They even had sets of six, prominently displayed in the middle of the stall. I glanced at the hand-written sign propped against the sets, then glanced again just to make sure I had read it correctly. Disappointingly, I had. "Special offer – 400 baht."

Luang Prabang's night market

Luang Prabang's night market

Sunday Walking Street in old Chiang Mai

Sunday Walking Street in old Chiang Mai


The lantern sellers always draw a crowd

The lantern sellers always draw a crowd


Glass engraver with a hot-headed bear

Glass engraver with a hot-headed bear


Chiang Mai doesn't have a branch of Accessorize, but it does have this

Chiang Mai doesn't have a branch of Accessorize, but it does have this


A refreshing drink after a hard night's haggling

A refreshing drink after a hard night's haggling

Posted by Chris Parsons 03:10 Archived in Thailand Tagged markets shopping cambodia thailand chiangmai Comments (1)

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