Day 9. Vietnam Diary – Huế

Cockroach, funny turn, FOMO

Day 9. Sunday 26 May 2024

It’s 08:27 and I’m already very sweaty. Plus, this very white café, called The Lab, is very hot and the air conditioning is not on.

I got in to Huế at about 15:00 yesterday. The train station was busy with taxi touts. I ignored everyone – I’d read a lot about Huế rip-off tourist prices. I walked across the front of the station to a quiet corner and ordered a Grab taxi. That all went to plan, though I was surprised my car was a large, old 4×4 rather than a small car.

I arrived at the hotel, The Scarlett Boutique Hotel, a proper hotel. I do now remember that I’d chosen it because of its 24-hour reception to accommodate a straightforward 04:00-ish check-out tomorrow. It was all very formal, the check-in, with mango juice on arrival, a breakfast-choices form – bonus, my first and only breakfast with accommodation. I said I’d be leaving early on Monday so no breakfast. She suggested a breakfast box. I love the way she said “breakfast box”, even that sounded formal yet ever so exciting. I desperately hope I do indeed receive a breakfast box tomorrow morning.

The barista has just brought up my coffee, which looks all wrong for my usual Vietnamese phin coffee with condensed milk. It’s a big glass mug of hot milky coffee. Anyway, she probably noticed my large quantities of sweat. The AC and a fan are now on and I’m cooling down.

Someone carried my backpack to my hotel room, incidentally a room called Passion, haha. I decided to go out for food straight away. It was then that I realised that I smelled. The top layer of my dual top is some kind of smell-absorbing fabric that appeared to have taken on my sweat smells as well as general train smells. But that isn’t the story, it’s just the reason I rummaged in my bag: I opened my rucksack, taking stuff out to get a change of top and my sandals at the bottom. I did think something jumped onto my hand but I dismissed the thought. Then AAAGGHH, I saw a large cockroach in my rucksack. FFS. I was not in the mood to deal with that. And no balcony or outdoor space. I decided to close the bag and try to direct it into the loo. I forget how quickly cockroaches move. And how smart they are. I did at least get my rucksack into the bathroom before it scurried out. It was a large one. Long story short, I saw it twice more in the bathroom. The second time it was sitting majestically atop my vanity bag. This was at 23:00 when I was going to bed. I got dressed and went to reception. The man working came upstairs with me and looked for it. I knew he wouldn’t find it. He didn’t seem 100% convinced it was either a cockroach or as big a cockroach as I (accurately) demonstrated. He said to dial 0 for reception next time I saw it and he’d come up. I didn’t bother trying to explain that I was knackered, needed to sleep and thought I wouldn’t sleep because my friend Anne once told me she was woken up (in Dubai) with a (smaller) cockroach strolling across her face. Shudder. I have had the creeps about that scenario ever since. Anyway, he left, I did my pre-bed stuff, went to bed around 23:15 and first looked at the time again at 05:40. I had zonked. Even the thought of a cockroach the size of a gerbil parading across my face in my sleep wasn’t enough to stop me sleeping.

I’m going back to my hotel for breakfast. That was my cheapest (36k vnd) coffee and one that would have nipped my Vietnamese coffee obsession in the bud had it been my first.

It’s now 10:12. I’m in a very hip coffee shop, PhinHolic. I had had to sit outside as the AC indoors (two floors and quite a lot of tables) was full. I’m now in the AC upstairs, relieved as it was very hot outside.

There are a few pairs and a very small number of groups but there are more people on their own, mostly with laptops. The music is suitably quiet and there’s just one group chatting quietly. Bruno Mars is playing.

Today is the kind of day I don’t want to go out. It doesn’t help that this is the first time I’ve been hassled, I think solely by scooter and boat touts. It is very unwelcome. My impression from Saigon is surprisingly different. I’m hoping Hanoi will not be like this, but at least I have an apartment booked in Hanoi now and I have no plans to move out over the seven nights I’ll be there.

[I have abandoned writing place names in Vietnamese, it felt like an affectation, and it was also a pain copying and pasting them, but I will try to write at least the first mention of a place or name with Vietnamese accents or whatever the additions to letters are actually called. I’ve just Googled. They are accents and diacritical marks (the correct naming of them appears to be a bit of a minefield) and they denote six different tones and meanings so writing Vietnamese words without the “accents” means an element of guess work/context for a Vietnamese speaker – but I’m way out of my depth with this]

My phin coffee is a proper one (PhinHolic is close to my hotel and has a comprehensive coffee menu, including a choice of beans for my phin coffee). I’ve gone for Phin 2-balance, 50/50 Robusta/Arabica. I hadn’t known that Robusta has higher caffeine content than Arabica so I’m increasingly thinking it may be best to avoid the 100% Robusta. I love the slowness of phin/drip coffee. I’ve been watching the drips. Drip. Drip. Drip. Very satisfying.

I think I must now be – yes, I’m eight out of sixteen nights through this trip. Does it go fast or slow? Or has it gone fast or slow?

Damn fine coffee.

Unrelated to coffee but my hand shakes a bit – right hand – and I’m 95% sure it’s from all the handwriting. I have quite bad RSI anyway, though from stenography and typing rather than handwriting.

I also have a sort of rash on both forearms. It could be heat, which wouldn’t be unusual for me. But I used a different sun screen on my forearms before my train journey. It’s a “natural” one, a small tub, that I only used because I had thought it’d be possible to only be in the shade between my post-check-out shower and a taxi to Saigon station. It was impossible and that was the easiest sun cream to find and carry about. I’m pretty sure I did use it on my arms, not just my face (no similar rash on my face, probably because I sweat more there and wipe with a sweat cloth).

I may need to be careful about caffeine and/or heat today. Although there is AC in this café, it is not cold-cool. I had the beginning of a funny turn, round about the top of this page [in handwriting, just after “damn fine coffee”]. I got more shaky and felt, “Oh no, am I going to have to lie on the floor to avoid fainting?” It’s an infuriating thing that my overriding issue with all that is the embarrassment and having to potentially deal with the practicalities of medical assistance and insurance. I’ve always been very susceptible to heat. I mean, most of the train journey I was too hot and I have already been hot this morning. I’ve also needed more toilet trips than usual, though not in the post-pork or post-coconut-water way. I definitely haven’t been drinking as much water as I need either, largely because of the train. I’m also quite anxious about getting up and out and to the bus place tomorrow. I looked at a map earlier and realised my bus doesn’t go from the bus station (which is probably just for local buses). The good thing is that my pick-up point is closer than I thought, one mile. Unfortunately, I then noticed that my bus (booked in the UK through a reputable company, 12go, for Techno VIP bus, which is Quang Dung Limousine, a name which does not fill me with confidence) goes from, as I said, a mile away, from a very basic shack-like building. This does not boost confidence levels. And you’re supposed to be there an hour-and-a-half early. But what I noticed that really stuck with me is a 1.9/5 star Google rating. Admittedly, a supposedly better bus company (and admittedly “better” because they don’t have dung in their name; what do I know about which bus company is better?!) has 2.9, so not in my ideal 4+/5 range either. The main issues with Quang Dung seem to be the drivers smoking and the smell getting through the AC system (I think smoking in the luggage area). Also, that the luggage area was too full of deliveries so luggage in the aisles of the bus and any spare seats. But worst, tales of the bus leaving late (most driving from Saigon via lots of stops to Hue and with lots of stops before terminating in Hanoi, or similarly massive distances, ie I’d expect the bus not to be on time) and my waiting in Hue way past 05:15. But sometimes then arriving at the destination two hours early … because the driving was so reckless. Being treated like cattle and luggage (almost a direct quote) and even 14 hours of smoke smell I can sort of cope with. But the driving/driver element is worrying me. And the getting of a taxi at 4am. And I wonder why I had a funny turn?!

The 79-year-old who looked about 50, whom I chatted to a bit on the train and who was from Hue, said he always got the train on his regular Nha Trang to Hue trips because the roads are dangerous. He said a lot of main roads are single carriageway, too many vehicles, driving too fast, etc. I will be relieved when I’m in Hanoi.

I had another, lesser, funny turn so decided to drink more water, which helped, and return to my hotel to have some quality toilet time (non-emergency but it’s not going to be solid – arguably TMI but I’m actually trying to be completely truthful with this writing) and some resting and AC time. [I’m thinking maybe there was too much information there!!]

My room has already been cleaned – actually something I’m not so keen on about hotels. Overall, I’d prefer not to have my room done every day, but I’m glad it was done in the hour I was out having funny turns and drinking coffee.

I Googled heat stroke. Dr Google is such a drama king; the fast forward to death is alarmist. I mean, I do know it’s dangerous but I’m sure excess panic is not very helpful.

I took a couple of paracetamol in the café. Other than my one quite-close-to-fainting few minutes and secondary “thing”, I feel fine/normal now. I would of course like to know what’s caused it for a fact but I’m relieved it’s so far just come and gone. Hmm, it’s getting a lot of page space though and I know it’s worrying me. Maybe it’s a heady combo of heat, caffeine (my heart isn’t racing so I actually don’t think it was the caffeine) and stress/anxiety.

With hindsight, I would maybe have been better off catching an early evening bus or train (there is seemingly no transport to Hanoi between 05:15 and, from memory, 19:00 ish, or it might have been 15:00 ish – oh, it would have been 15:00 ish as that is when my train arrived before heading north to Hanoi). But all transport leaving Hue at a more sociable hour arrived in Hanoi around 03:00 to 05:00. I could have booked accommodation from the day before and gone straight there to sleep a bit. I say that but I’d probably still prefer the majority of the journey being in day time and leaving somewhere familiar early in the morning rather than arriving somewhere new early in the morning. I’m fretting. Need to stop that, it’s so unnecessary.

I’ve also been thinking about the tourist experience, while trying not to get bogged down thinking about how many people’s livelihoods here depend on tourism.

I’m staying in the tourist centre of Hue, though ever so slightly on the edge. It’s a really pleasant area, another dead end alleyway, and I would recommend this area and hotel, The Scarlett Boutique Hotel.

But it’s more like Delhi than Saigon for hassle. Everyone has been fine, not aggressive, just annoying. I know the patter: hello, where are you from? Where are you going? No, I don’t want a tour/scooter/taxi/rickshaw/to eat at your restaurant/to go on your boat. I’m sorry to say I do ignore a lot of touts, now that I know how frequently it’s happening here.

Tangent. I am feeling fine still. I don’t have a headache or dry mouth but I do know that with dehydration if you feel refreshed for drinking water, you are dehydrated. I’ve been drinking a lot of water. I hadn’t thought to Google symptoms of dehydration as I’m familiar with it and for me there’s usually a headache that slowly creeps up. Symptoms that I could relate to included being extremely thirsty, low BP (it felt like), and – well, it said irritable, drowsy and confused. I think I was sort of that, though more mildly panicky. It said not to drink caffeine. I’d asked for some more water in the café and I’d tipped it into my glass of ice and felt pretty much instantly relieved. My Dr Google summation is that I have mild dehydration coupled with overheating (honestly, I feel completely fine now) and a degree of anxiety.

I will hate re-reading this [I do indeed], I know it will sound like I’m over-analysing and fretting [I was, but in fairness it was a bit scary and I didn’t like that I didn’t know why I felt like that, though I now think maybe it was a weird 24 hour thing].

I suppose it reminds me that there are challenges unique to travelling on your own. In – would I be right say “most”? – cultures, we are assumed to aspire to being part of at least a couple, if not a wider, larger tribe.

I had a conversation of sorts with a Vietnamese man on the train at 04:00. I can speak no Vietnamese. His English consisted, seemingly, of a selection of words. He was fine, just being friendly, but he had shockingly bad breath that almost made me gag. However slowly he spoke Vietnamese, I was never going to understand anything. And, no, his speaking even louder also didn’t help with my comprehension, but the 79-year Hue man who ended up sitting next to me but at that time was diagonally opposite, could understand, obviously, and interpreted a bit. I don’t think the conversation was worthy of interpretation but hey ho. The man with bad breath was 51 and couldn’t comprehend that I was only a few years younger than him but had no children despite being married (I’m not, but I wasn’t going down that additional rabbit hole of incomprehension) yet travelling on my own.

I’m feeling good. But I’m going to stop here and be sensible and order a taxi to go to the Imperial City rather than walk or get a scooter. I will first buy another big bottle of water.

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All is good. No more funny turns. I’m so, so glad I went to the Imperial City. It was beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it. One whole building was decorated with mosaics. Incredible. It was very hot and sunny though. Plenty of decent loos in the city grounds (oh my, I am so at an age where I appreciate knowing there are loos – why did I not care when I was in my twenties and thirties?). I drank a lot of water and used my sun umbrella (it’s sadly going to be left in Vietnam as the head has snapped off  – well, it’s a knob – that makes it sound even more smutty??!! The handle is a cartoon Chinese woman’s head. I bought it in Hong Kong. It sounds weird, I should have stuck with “handle” and elaborated no more. As well as the handle snapping off, the – I’m losing my vocabulary. What would you call the spike bit, I know shaft is also wrong????!! Anyway, that extendable bit only extends half way so I look like I’m using a toddler’s umbrella, not that toddlers use umbrellas. Anyway). I also walked slowly. I started taking snaps rather than thought-out photos. Far too much to see. I’d read that one-and-a-half to two hours was a normal length of visit. I am not actually sure how long I was there, possibly more than two hours. There were mainly German tourists and – well, I’m not sure what nationality but the people I’m referring to were dressed up in historical Vietnamese costumes and on photoshoots. Clearly a big thing.

I would have loved it even more if it were significantly cooler. I would probably have sat down more. Such an impressive area. I have no concept of the history though. There were some info boards but I suppose I just didn’t feel like reading. There are audio guides and tour guides but fortunately no hassle to purchase either, and anyway not what I wanted. But you can learn something from just walking around and being immersed in a sense of the history and architecture; it felt and looked far more interesting and captivating being there than seeing photos online, for example.

The moat was full of lotus leaves, buds, flowers and seed heads. All stunning. There was one hall area used to sell Hue handicrafts. Folded paper lotus buds were a thing. They were incredible. [I now wish I had bought one; who knew I’d ever covet a paper flower]

The battle in Hue during the 1968 Tet Offensive was by all accounts shockingly devastating. More than 5,000 civilians were killed and a lot of the city was destroyed. It was so unforgivably brutal that it marked a major shift against US involvement here and protests in the US started on a much larger scale. Hue is only about 60 miles south of the demilitarised zone, DMZ, the 17th parallel.

Around town, there are quite a few older buildings amidst new stuff. Unsurprisingly. There is also some innovative, interesting architecture, though not necessarily of a kind that would conform to UK building regulations. The photo below is more representative of non-building-regulation construction than anything inspiring.

Today is Sunday. The roads here are significantly quieter – well, less busy is perhaps a more appropriate reflection – than Saigon. There are fewer people, but it’s very much a bustling city. There are more tourists here than anywhere except the post office/cathedral-covered-in-scaffolding area of Saigon. The area I’m on the edge of, as I’ve said, is very much a fun time area, with loads of bars, entertainment and even backpacker hostels.

I had a late lunch of prawn salad with passionfruit sauce, palm hearts, lemongrass, carrot, beansprouts, peanuts, chilli, fish sauce etc. Lovely and fresh. That was in Madam Thu. It seems the place for tourists to eat authentic Hue food. Tourists were the only customers but the kitchen area looked suitably domestic and everything was cooked and prepared to order, it felt like a restaurant add-on to a house and I appreciated the home cooked feel.

For dinner, I headed a short distance away from the centre and spotted a place full of Vietnamese people, no obvious foreigners. It was big and busy. And served exactly what I fancied, a 150k vnd (approx. £4.75) mixed platter of the same kind of dishes I had yesterday. For 30k vnd, I also had a tasty lemon juice, obviously sweetened. I ate all my dishes except I left most of a kind of fishy peanut soup. It was to me edible but not delicious. [I was clearly being polite at the time. Fishy peanuty soup is never going to be good as far as I’m concerned, and it wasn’t] The rest, especially the crispy shredded-wheat-looking fried spring rolls, was delicious. Hue food seems to suit my taste, except for fishy peanut soup.

My hotel is a few doors down from Marou chocolate, a very fancy French-inspired chocolate shop and café. I took a photo from outside but wasn’t feeling like chocolate, possibly because the mini Snickers I thought I might want yesterday has massively changed shape and couldn’t look much less appetising.

No sign of the gerbil-sized cockroach. I wonder if housekeeping found it or it’s hiding or made its way elsewhere. I emptied my rucksack onto the floor – fairly certain it hadn’t gone back inside. All clear.

So I had my strange funny turns earlier and I’ve thought a lot about solo travel as a concept and for me now.

I gave my rashy forearms a particularly good flannel scrub and I won’t need to use any sun cream tomorrow so hopefully they’ll be OK. It’s not worse, it might be slightly better or the same.

I reiterate that I will be very happy to get into my AirBnB in Hanoi; hopefully I’ll be there this time tomorrow. I have picked my cuticles even more than normal so I know I’m particularly anxious.

I still enjoy solo travel and have learned a lot by travelling over the years on my own. Some days I’ve needed a distraction, someone to chat to, to have a break from all the self-reflection. There have been short moments where I’ve thought I’d feel OK if I went home early. But I don’t want to do that. I just realise that being at home is good and easier in many respects.

This morning, after I’d returned to my room after my funny turn, I thought a lot about the kind of FOMO I was experiencing. I came to Vietnam (and also “abroad”) because I wanted/needed a break from editing my novel and a tranche of agent submissions. Four years ago today, my mum’s and my friend Paul died in hospital at the worst of the pandemic (he had necrotising pancreatitis, not Covid). I hadn’t known that he’d left me some money. That money is what enabled me to take some time off paid work to do my writing. I had also wanted a holiday. Four years later, this is that inheritance holiday. I also really wanted to be abroad for my birthday. I wanted to avoid using my phone and WhatsApp and social media. I am checking and using Gmail (email is so different to WhatsApp) but nowhere near as much time is spent on my mobile. I didn’t bring a laptop. I wanted to write – this – and use pen and paper. I am. And I like doing that [though my enthusiasm for it is waning now I’m typing it all up and realising how much I wrote], but I didn’t expect the handwriting to affect my hands this much. I also wanted a change and I’ve missed Asia. I wanted to come to Asia and somewhere I’d never been. So here I am. I also wanted to know more about Vietnamese food. I had intended to do a cookery class in Saigon but decided not to. I bought an illustrated Vietnamese food book and have been trying to find restaurants and stalls that serve the things I like the sound of. Had I been in Hue longer, I probably would have done a class here. I might look for one in Hanoi but I suspect I won’t. I’ll look into it though. I also feel I need to think about stuff. Lots of everyday stuff. I have been, but maybe not the stuff (eg source of income, new job) I needed to think about. As usual, I’ve maybe thought too much. About a lot of things I hadn’t expected to be thinking about. That’s neither good nor bad. But I think seven nights in Hanoi will make me focus a bit more. And hopefully lovely accommodation.

Back to FOMO. I thought I should maybe just stay in today and make sure I felt OK. With travel/holidays, where I’m concerned, it’s all about exploring and experiencing as much as possible. But to what end? I feel a sort of obligation to do as much as possible, make the most of being here by seeing and doing as much as I can fit in. The 79-year-old Hue man on the train was disappointed I was only here for two nights. He listed all kinds of tours, said I should hire a bicycle ($2 a day, he said) or a scooter. I don’t think I’d want to cycle or ride here. I had Googled things to do/see in Hue. There’s a lot here and around the area. I have walked around this area – big tourist centre. I could have just done that. Who would know or care that I hadn’t done much else? Why did I feel I had to do something touristy? Obviously if I’d been ill or if it was torrential rain, I wouldn’t have gone out. I did go out and I had a memorable and enjoyable day. I feel sort of sad that I don’t have many photos of me here, or in Saigon. But what does that matter? I don’t need to prove to anyone what I saw or did but I think that’s something social media has to answer for. I am here. And anyway, I did take a few selfies and I just look like the overheated woman I was.

I have always hated it when people say things like, “Oh, I’ve done Vietnam.” You can never “do” anywhere. Places change, the people change, the light and weather change, your mindset changes. You can’t do a place. Doing somewhere implies, like a crossword, you have completed everything, experienced everything. You can’t finish or experience everything about places. Even if you live there. If I spent every day on holiday walking as many streets, eating in as many places, talking to as many people in as many locations as possible, I could still never “do” somewhere. But whatever I do, even if that’s perceived as “just” to be sitting in a café down an alleyway in Hue, I’m experiencing something and it’s what I want to do. It’s all about perspective and what you want to do and experience while you’re on holiday. I turn my nose up a bit about fellow tourists not interested in sitting in an air conditioned café drinking phin coffee or sitting for ages writing in a restaurant alongside a market, distracted by people’s goings on. But we should all do what we want and enjoy it, for it will become part of our memory and association with that place and that time in your life, no matter how little or how much you do.

If someone asks me “What was Hue like?”, I might mention how much I enjoyed sitting at a basic table and chair surrounded by delicious little dishes of food while watching the goings-on of the scooter and rickshaw drivers outside, watching families and friends come into and leave the door-and-windowless “restaurant”, while listening to some dreadful, loud Vietnamese karaoke from further down the street. I might also say how bowled over I was by walking through a huge imperial city and the amazing (I assume restored) mosaic-covered palace(?) within the complex and all the orchids growing, seemingly, out of trees.