I arrived in Hanoi at 5am. My guidebook along with my only map of Hanoi was in a box and on its way back to New Jersey. My mission: to find my way to my hotel to pick up my passport and then to the Vietnam Airlines office to catch the bus. I was determined to do without the assistance of a motorbike driver. I had six hours before my flight and a general sense of the direction of the hotel and the airlines office. I also had about 12 kilos of gear strapped to my back and very little sleep.
Hanoi looked different in the dark. It was muggy with a light misting of rain and the storefront awnings drooled rainwater, mostly on the non-waterproof fleece that I was wearing. I headed in the general direction, hoping that sooner or later I would happen upon a street name that I recognized or the big lake smack in the middle of town. I could find my way anywhere from the lake.
After fifteen minutes of no lake and turns that had made me completely lose my general sense of direction, I began to panic. I turned down a few more passing motorbike drivers, thankful that they were letting me off with a firm Khong Cam On (No Thank You). I was sweating fiercely under my fleece, yet I knew if I stopped to change I might succumb to an overpriced ride on the back of a motorbike which could very well lead to a hotel scam, neither of which I had the patience or energy to live through off at the moment. I spotted a woman selling bread. Yes, bread. Bread for information. I bought a loaf and asked her about some familiar street names until one clicked. She gestured for me to go in a certain direction. And I was off. I headed in the general direction of her hand movements, feeling a bit more confident. I found the street I needed and then the hotel and then a bathroom. I took off the fleece jacket. I had my passport in my back pocket and was ready to find the bus.
I had to do a few extra circles around town but did make it to the bus stop in plenty of time to get to the airport. Still four+ hours until my flight. The bus was a good turn of luck. What would have cost me $9 in a taxi wound up costing me about $.30 on the city bus. Traveler one, Hanoi zero.
After a flight on Laos Aviation on a seat that smelled like it had been to the junkyard and back and a seatbelt that was outlawed in the '70s (Note to self: read tickets more carefully next trip), I arrived Vientiane. The first problem was that the money to pay for my Visa was locked in my luggage. A nice man at the airport escorted me to my bag and I got the Visa lickety split. Problem number two was that I had landed and was still without a guidebook. Note to self...
