I'm packing my life up into a backpack again and trying to fathom how I've acquired SO much shit in just seven short months. I have successfully created a mound of this shit next to my bedroom door; I also managed to discharge a pair of shoes to my friend Cathy, and some books to Dung. There is still so much shit. In an attempt to increase productivity, I wrote a 'to-do' list. But then I felt bad because I hadn't done any of the things on it. So then I added some things that I'd already done, like 'go for a run' and 'eat breakfast', so that I could cross them off. That satisfied me, so I took a break from the to-do list, and went on Facebook for a bit.
Today Hanoi did a good job of persuading me to stay, and distracting me from the important tasks of leaving. Pretty much all day I cruised around under the guise of ACHIEVINGTASKS but actually did nothing. But Hanoi was beautiful nonetheless; the weather is (finally) getting warmer, I really fancied the quite dirty man that cut a new set of keys for my housemate, my new $3 mani&pedi is pretty lush and very orange.
I went out for a last supper with my friend Hop (the running man). Since my Vietnamese is poor, and his English amounts to "Hello!", it's always a bit random where we end up eating, as he tries to satisfy the poorly-translated whims, appetites and vegan sensibilities of the big incoherent rambling whitey, whilst still going somewhere that tastes half-good and doesn't blow his entire month's wages. Anyway, tonight's "Lau Ca Song" (Fresh Fish Hotpot) was a massive win. Before we went, Hop was like, "If we go here...we have to drink...is that ok?" Upon arriving at this restaurant*, a bottle of spirit is compulsory. Of course it's ok, I'm English. The food was awesome; I ate a little bit of fish, but there was enough tofu and fresh vegetables to keep me happy, cooked by our fair chopsticks in a bubbling pot of stock. Accompanied by mango, many shots of apple vodka, and the ambience of a grimy hall full of vodka-full Vietnamese men toasting and shouting, discussing Ashley Cole's dalliances in broken Vietnamese, I had an awesome dinner. I also really fancied a man sitting opposite who kept giving me the eye; he was dapper yet cute, I love that. Anyone who lives in Hanoi: you should go to 55 An Duong Vuong off Au Co, it's rad. And if you're the dapper-yet-cute man, you should go to 20 Hang Bun.
After dinner, we went back to tourist town to drink bia hoi - the infamous (I think) fresh beer drank on 10" plastic stools in the street. Here ban Hop was exchanged for a new crowd of equally interesting but more English-speaking friends. I like to sit here and talk shit and watch the world go by, in what must be one of the busiest places in Hanoi. And when three pints cost me 50p, it can't go too wrong. This is one of the places that "proper expats" shun when they get too Vietnamese-initiated and cool, because there are too many tourists, but actually it's really fun so they should stop being stuck-up. I have never had a bad night drinking bia hoi.
After bia hoi, we went to Roots Bar, at the end of Luong Ngoc Quyen. This is one of my favourite bars in Hanoi, due to (a) coconut rum and (b) chilled-out grooves. There is a lot of rum and there is a lot of reggae. This bar is sometimes unpopular because it can be quiet on the wrong night, but because it was my last night in Hanoi, the naysayers were finally silenced and we went. I drank rum and I grooved; I talked about nothing; I was given a vase; then I rode home on my friend's Vespa. An awesome last night in Hanoi. It may be evident that I'm writing this post after a few coconut rums, but I'm trying hard to at least spell right.
*'Restaurant' is a bit generous here. 'Dingy fish tunnel' would be more appropriate, but it doesn't read right.
