Whatever Perfuma!

What a difference a day makes! Our last morning pottering around Luang Prabang saw a return to our favourite cafe for extra tasty Laos coffee and lounging in our cosy armchairs, a trip to find a new English language book and a final stroll through this gorgeous town. We had stayed much longer then intended but could have happily stayed longer still if it were not for our upcoming flight.

So it was with some regret that we boarded our plane that would take us from this beautiful spot (coupled with nervousness-Laos Airlines does not publish its safety records and there were black clouds starting to brew!)

An uneventful flight later and we touched down on Vietnamese soil. Filling out our health declarations Blakey lied copiously as his Chicken sandwich the day before had left him in a tender state, and catching his rucksack awkwardly when leaving the tuk tuk has pulled the muscles in his back. Able to conceal it from the inspectors at arrival, by the time we had our bags ready to go he was clearly hurting quite painfully.

As we left the airport we had the usual barrage of taxi drivers competing for our business who we thanked and headed for the Airport bus service. One guy stayed with us and got us started in a space efficient minivan (which is to say they crammed us in!) and we began the 30 minute drive into town.

This was no Laos! The city is massive, its infinite shops sprawling across a great distance and roads jam packed with traffic, mopeds filling every space they can on the roads (sometimes regardless of which direction they are facing). Reminiscent of China, horns blared and messy crowds formed as traffic traversed cross roads with no sense of order or priority.

Once all the locals had disembarked the drivers of the minivan agreed to drop us off at our respective hotels. We were the first Westerners to arrive at our destination where two smiley and super efficient people grabbed our bags and took them inside to what looked like a travel agency. Confused, I asked where we were and the woman replied with the name of our guesthouse "Tam Thuang". Happy to have a bed we secured the cheapest room available and Blakey laid his poor damaged back down.

But as we were taken into the hotel through the stairs next door I was confused. Nothing said Tam Thuang! In fact it all said F.Hotel. Pretty weird. After a shower I went down to give our passport details and the woman who had greeted us, Perfuma, was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. She quickly took me back to her office where she wanted to know our plans for Vietnam.

After telling us that "mosquito-flu" was in the city and lots of people were in hospital she emphatically suggested that we leave Hanoi for the next few days and head for Halong Bay, returning when the crisis is over. Now I'm no doctor, but three days is not enough time for an epidemic to subside. I explained that we did not want to come back to Hanoi to stay and that we intended to spend the following day sightseeing.

At this point Perfuma went into elaborate detail regarding all the towns that we could do and how much she could book them for (quite a lot as it turned out!) She reassured me that her tours were good by showing all the correspondence around her office written in many languages though strangely all on similar plain paper. Most odd was a letter from a German couple after which a French couple had used the end of the paper to write their thanks!

Knowing things were not right I asked Perfuma to point to our current location on a map. It was quite obvious we were not at our hotel at all and this host of lies was to get us to this tour operator. I managed to escape for a good nights sleep without parting with any cash, though it was clear there would be another selling onslaught in the morning. I was fuming!

After getting up and looking for a place for breakfast we were trying to be optimistic. At least the hotel was reasonably cheap and fairly central. But as we walked through the streets continually dodging traffic, Blakey in pain and therefore a tad grumpy, we were both pining for the tranquility of Laos. Before even getting a cup of coffee a fruit seller had dumped her baskets and hat on me calling Blakey to take a photo and then demanded 3 pounds for 3 bananas and the photo which we did not want or need. Though we tried to argue we managed to make her go away with 2 pounds, though with her went even more of our opinion of this city.

Breakfast gobbled much later than usual we purchased two tickets for the Water Puppetry Show at 3.30pm that afternoon. Blakey still not right we took refuge in another cafe where an excellent travel agency gave some really impartial advice about our plans for Halong Bay. Knowing we could not stretch to their prices they sent us to the local bus station where we purchased two tickets at the going local rate to Cat Ba Island. Finally things were getting better. Or so we thought.

A quick pit stop at our hotel before the show turned out to be a bad idea. Whilst Blakey ran upstairs to grab a camera with 30 minutes to go before curtain up a guy from the hotel tried to sell me $60 tickets to Halong once more. I explained that we had now and did not need them. He asked me to wait and he would sell them for the same price, but when I said we already had tickets and really must go as we were to watch the performance he got a little angry and found someone to translate. Suddenly we were told we could not stay at the hotel that night as someone else needed the room and we were to move our bags immediately! Explaining our need to get to the show they agreed that we could have one hour, but added they might have to enter and move our stuff before we returned.

By the time we reached the performance it had already started. It was beautifully presented and once again the live music was fascinating, as were the instruments being used to create it. As much as we enjoyed the experience the afternoons events were still weighing on our minds.

Leaving the theatre we followed our map directly to the hotel we intended to stay at and explained our situation asking for help with our bags. Two minutes later Blakey was taken on a motorcycle to collect our bags through the chaotic traffic of Hanoi whilst I was told to wait and enjoy the internet. Upon his return he relayed how the scoundrels at the F.Hotel had tried to charge us more as we checked out later than 12pm- the cheek! He refused to pay any more than was agreed and returned exhausted. My hero!

Finally we tried to perk up our day with a nice meal. Full of farang and locals, a pizza and salad buffet was on offer near the lake- not a local specialty but recommended and with Blakey's dodgy tummy a fairly safe bet. The buffet looked a bit limp so we ordered off the menu. Blake's steak was great, but my veggie lasagna lacked tomato sauce and most surprisingly pasta. I had been served frozen vegetables floating in a cheese sauce. Nice.

So we indulged. We got out of there and headed for "Fanny", an amusingly entitled ice-cream parlour by the lake that makes amazing sundaes. My favourite part of Hanoi so far, it was delicious. A stroll around the atmospherically lit lake whilst young Vietnamese couples snogged each others faces off and back to bed. Maybe we'll try here a fresh after our return from Halong. Maybe.