We’re on a bus, returning to Hanoi at the end of a one-day visit to Ha Long Bay. It’s dark as we approach the outskirts of town. I think everyone on the bus is asleep except me. I’m gazing out the window, taking it all in. It will be interesting to see Hanoi after dark.
Long before we reached the city itself, we passed numerous centers of activity along the roadside. Just about everything appeared to be open. There were lots of open-air eating establishments where families appeared to be having dinner.
Just like in downtown Hanoi, whether it’s a restaurant, store, or repair shop, most business activity is conducted out front. When it’s closing time, everything goes inside and the family retires to the other end of the building. It’s surprising to me to see the same narrow “tube houses” out of town, where there seems to be room enough to spread out if they wanted to.
It’s Karaoke Time!
But what really surprises me is the number of karaoke bars we’ve passed. Even before we got back to downtown Hanoi, we passed lots of karaoke bars with their Las Vegas-style signs flashing away. I thought, “There’s no way these are just places where people go to sing karaoke. Something else must be going on.” So I did some research.
It turns out that’s exactly what they are: places where people go to sing karaoke. Karaoke is HUGE over here. People love it. Whole families go together. Most of these places have private karaoke rooms available for rent. It’s common for people to rent them for karaoke birthday parties.
In fact, karaoke is so big here, a lot of people have their own karaoke machines in their houses. Can you imagine living in close quarters, such as in Hanoi, where your next-door neighbor is into karaoke? I’ve seen a number of articles like this one in VN Express about the problem of karaoke noise pollution. Not good!
Hanoi After Dark
When we arrived back in town, we asked the bus driver to let us off in the Old Quarter. We thought it’d be fun to see the Old Quarter at night. Plus, we knew it would be no problem finding someplace there to have dinner. It turned out to be a good plan.
Wow – so this is Hanoi after dark. The Old Quarter is alive at night. I wouldn’t say it’s alive with “nightlife” per se. It’s just alive with people out and about, doing whatever they have to do. Maybe it’s a habit developed to cope with the hot, humid days that are common here. Whatever the reason, the place is hoppin’ at night.
We strolled around a bit, but it had been a long day and we were hungry, so finding a place to eat became a priority. We were just roaming around when we found ourselves standing across the street from an Italian restaurant.
Italian Anyone?
Italian? In Hanoi? Could it be any good? Hmmm. We had been eating a lot of unfamiliar food for the past couple of weeks. Even though everything had been really good, our stomachs wanted something familiar for a change.
With casual expertise, (ahem!), we deftly crossed the busy little street. OK. It was more like we made a run for it. Our street-crossing skills as taught to us by Lemon still needed some work.
Anyway, we went in. They had one table available, but it was upstairs. “Would that be OK?”
“Oh yes. That would be just fine!”
An older gentleman led us up a narrow staircase. On the way upstairs, we passed through a cloud of fresh bread and garlic smells. Ahhhhh, so good! The smell of garlic was thick! We sat at a table in a corner of the small upstairs space. The front of the room opened onto the street, and a few people had tables out on the balcony.
We ordered a bottle of wine and proceeded to have a great meal. Our bodies had been craving something familiar like this. But it wasn’t good just because it was familiar. We had fallen into a place that makes better Italian food than just about anyplace I can think of back home.
Returning to the Scene of the Crime
After dinner, we were done for the day. We hailed a taxi and went back to our hotel. This was our last night together since we started in Bangkok two weeks ago, so even though we were tired, we decided to have one last nightcap in the hotel bar. You might say we returned to the scene of the crime.
We had come to this bar on our first night here. Our friends had had a miserable travel day. We were tired and hadn’t had dinner. The place was dead, and the substitute bartender, despite his best efforts, had no idea where anything was. It was touch-and-go for a while, but it turned out fine. (Better than fine, actually).
Tonight, though, the bar was full of people and the bartender was a real pro. So this was the “real” bartender. Our stand-in guy the other night turned out to be the bar manager. He recognized us, and we all had a good laugh about our previous encounter.
Tomorrow is the last day of the trip for all four of us. We don’t have any specific plans, so we can take it easy and rest up for the long flight home.
To be continued…
