I thought it was too long for the system to accept it in one go. So here it is, my report, in full.

Introduction

My wife and I had initially planned on a grand tour, taking in Laos and Cambodia as well, but finally decided to limit the trip to Vietnam for reasons of time constraint. Too bad, but, let’s take it from the bright side: we have some more time in Vietnam and keep now another project to look forward to, a trip to Laos and Cambodia. Coming up early 2007.

From Bangkok we made a triangle, flying to Hanoi, on to Saigon and back to Bangkok. Two weeks of traveling around and visiting gives us a chance to get a proper first impression of Vietnam. Enough to realize the complexity of the country, the richness of its culture, the depth of its history, the infiniteness of its natural beauty. Enough also to understand that we should come back for more.

A few things have struck me more in particular about the country.

Everyone is working, working and working. No wonder the country is making rapid economic progress, even if the population is growing as fast as it is. But on receiving international tourism they still have a couple of things to learn. It happened to us both in Hanoi and in HCMC/Saigon that the guide or the driver simply refused to add the little extra we wanted to the day’s programme, because ‘it was not in the written schedule’. There were no extra hours or expenses involved, it just wasn’t written in the programme. The inflexibility of a communist past? The lack of understanding that as a visitor you do not want to be rigidly cemented into a set programme, especially not if you have opted for individual and tailor-made travel? The confusion between punctuality and inflexibility? I don’t know, but it surely upset me at times. Let this however not overshadow the general fact that we have found Vietnamese very welcoming and nice people and that we have thoroughly enjoyed the trip.

As visitors we hardly noticed any resentment or animosity about the ‘American war’. I am not American, but I can imagine that the war past is very much on your mind when you visit Vietnam as an American. I may be wrong, but seen from the outside, and having talked to many fellow visitors, Americans seem to be quite comfortable while visiting the country and they feel very welcome, even surrounded with a bit of fascination on the side of their Vietnamese hosts. The war is going to where it belongs, to the records of the past, respectable and not to be forgotten, but gradually being stripped of the emotional charge, which can blur minds into obsessions of hate and distrust. I have developed enormous respect for the dignity and wisdom with which the Vietnamese seem to have handled the matter. It has also become much clearer to me that what was a war against communism for the Americans, was actually a pure civil war for the Vietnamese. Americans and Vietnamese were not fighting quite the same war, and this may explain a lot of what happened in that tragic period.

As punctual Vietnamese are in their arrangements and appointments, as unreliable Vietnam Airways seems to be. Their staff is nice and friendly, for sure, and the meals offered on board are not bad either, but we have not had one single flight leaving within an hour of the initially announced time of departure. No big deal in itself, of course, but it surely is something to take into account when you have to catch an onward flight within two or three hours after your Vietnam Airways flight is supposed to have landed.

The Vietnamese kitchen is excellent. I gladly shoved aside all menus with European dishes and went systematically for the Vietnamese food, which is very diverse, excellent of taste and certainly a lot healthier than what we are used to eat in the West.

Vietnam is a country of endless possibilities of discovery for curious and eager natures like me. I even caught myself indulging into some tourist greed, making up already an itinerary outline for a next trip to Vietnam while I was still there, on my first trip… I’ve later tossed these quick itinerary notes away, but I know we will be back to Vietnam one day, to explore Hue and the central part of the country, which we skipped this time.


Bangkok
An early morning arrival in Bangkok after a comfortable six hour flight from Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates, our home base. Ratt, the taxi driver and guide whom we got acquainted with last year on our first passage in Bangkok, is waiting for us at the airport. The initial plan of simply going to the hotel and take a rest after the flight, is overruled in no time by Ratt’s proposal to take us to Ayuttaya. Ayuttaya is the ancient capital of the Siam kingdom, about an hour outside Bangkok. The ruins of stupas and temples are spread out over the city, caught in between three interlacing rivers. We’ve definitely seen more impressing complexes of ancient Buddhist temples last year in Myanmar, but Ayuttaya is definitely worth a visit.
Back in Bangkok we check into the Peninsula Hotel, reached from the river bank by a shuttle boat of the hotel. In the evening we return to the other side of the river, though, for a walk along the little shops and for a light but excellent supper on the terrace of the Oriental Hotel. The spicy Thai soup tastes even better than usual if you are eating it while observing the permanent traffic of longtail boats, water taxis and hotel shuttle boats on the river, the reflection of the bulbs hanging in chains from the masts darting on the high waves. It’s part of the fascination of Bangkok, and we’re glad we are back to this city once again.

Bangkok – Hanoi
You bet, Vietnam Airways is late. An airline hostess dressed in an elegant Vietnamese outfit hands us a voucher for lunch in the airport restaurant. Clearly, it’s more or less her daily routine. Very considerate too, but also a sign that the delay is not for ten minutes. About two hours after we should have arrived in Hanoi, the plane finally takes of from Bangkok. Our intention to take an afternoon stroll in downtown Hanoi is dashed by our late arrival, but tomorrow there is time enough.

Hanoi
I had honestly expected Hanoi to be more chaotic, noisy and polluted than what I see. Of course it’s crowded and buzzing, with bicycles, motorbikes and carts all around you. But, somehow, things fall into an orderly fold and everybody seems to know exactly how to handle the crowds and the constantly oncoming flows of traffic. Our guide is fast in teaching us the technique of crossing a street in Hanoi: you just move forward slowly, avoid sudden movements, and count on the alertness of the cyclists and car drivers to manage their vehicles inches beside you. Stopping for a crossing pedestrian is something obviously unheard of, but it all works out well: you wouldn’t be reading this if my street crossing experiment had failed.

Hanoi is a wonderful city, with plenty of stylish French houses along tree-lined streets, open spaces created by the many lakes that dot the city map, Oriental markets where the smell of fried fish, the piercing scent of spices and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee alternate. Hanoi lives intensely, and yet spreads an atmosphere of serenity and relaxed composure, which I enjoy best on a stroll along the banks of the central Hoan Kiem Lake.

Actually the stroll along the lake helps me wind down from a busy day of visits that has appropriately started with a tour of the Ethnic Museum. To my feeling, this is indeed the right place to start a visit of Vietnam, as it immediately puts you in touch with the rich diversity of tribes, languages, cultures, links to the populations of neighbouring countries, etc. The museum lays foundations for you to better understand the country, a highly valuable asset for any visitor who wants more than beaches and nightlife.
This may not sound very original, but I find the temple of Literature to be a real highlight. We visit at a time that there are not really that many people around, and can fully enjoy the mystic atmosphere of the inner courts, the thick gray line of smoke drifting into the air from the large incense burners in front of the red, gold and black dominated entrance colonnades.

Beyond the classical sightseeing of other places like Ho Chi Minh’s house, his memorial, and the very large, very impressing and very unattractive parade square in front of it, most of all I enjoy the late afternoon tricycle ride through old Hanoi, with all the colourful market and street life of the city flowing by from a fairly comfortable chair-on-wheels.
I should not forget to mention luncheon in the ‘Seasons of Hanoi’, a local restaurant with excellent Vietnamese dishes, located in a very stylish old French mansion, downtown Hanoi. Just excellent it is, and ridiculously cheap.

Bat Tranh
It is rather cold and overcast when we visit this small provincial town that lives on ceramics, ceramics and ceramics. A cart listlessly pulled by a poor old ox and driven by an equally bored fellow reminds me of the fact that this place actually does receive foreign visitors who come and have a ten minute tour explaining how ceramics are made here in exactly the same way as anywhere else in the world. No need to go into further detail, I think our outing to Bat Tranh is an absolute waste of time.

So, we wisely put the place behind us and return to Hanoi well before lunch, spending the early afternoon around the West Lake. This place is not really off the beaten tourist track, but neither does it seem to be on the major attractions list of the capital city. Too bad, because the West Lake area is actually quite attractive, particularly with that little temple complex on the small island. The boat restaurants are not nearly as good as what you find downtown, so better visit the Lake area and return to the city centre for late lunch. Someone has to find out and pass his advice on to others, that is my meager consolation for having sat through a poor lunch after a poor visit to the ceramics village. Not my day, today.


Tam Coc
You noticed, Bat Tranh has not won my heart. The next day, Tam Coc has. The drive to Tam Coc takes us through rice fields and villages, full of life and colour, and after an hour or two we get to Tam Coc, Vietnamese for ‘Three Caves’, so I’m told. The village itself is not much, but it happens to be the place were we embark into a small narrow boat that takes us from a large basin onto a river winding along rice paddies and villages. At the end of the journey lies a complex of three caves. Along the way, we enjoy the rural serenity and hear the piercing silence of nature, only broken by the sound of our boatman’s paddle stirring the water and by the occasional wing flapping of an alerted heron. As we slide over the river, the valley becomes really spectacular, with high and narrow-based limestone mountains, abruptly and vertically rising from the rice paddies.

The boatman’s wife is on board as well, not to keep her husband company, but to sell the patchwork pillows, Vietnamese lace and other nice things she claims to have made herself. If this is true, she surely is a busy woman, with such vast quantities on offer. I evidently succeed better than my wife in not getting distracted by the boatwoman’s floating textile market and my camera and I concentrate more than the lady cares for on the natural beauty around us: fishing nets sticking out of the softly flowing river; a small cluster of abandoned headstones, soaked in a river overflow and overgrown by weeds; the massive cliffs steeply rising from the river surface and diminishing the human figures at their foot, while they ably keep their delicate balance, standing on the very edge of their little boat prows, inspecting their fishing nets.

At the end of the boat ride we reach three consecutive caves, like formidable bridges over the river bed. Our little boat navigates through the caves; the sound of the paddles working the water and the occasional exchange of greetings between boatmen who cross each other, endlessly resound in a loud and hollow echo. Then, at the exit of the third cave, again rice paddies, little huts, herons, frogs and fishermen going about their business of daily labour and survival. Life is simple here, apart from for my wife who really does not know which tablecloth to buy. They’re all nice. They really are: one at a time, I can see them all on my dining table, ever since I am back from my vacation in Vietnam.

Hoa Lu
It’s a short drive from Tam Coc to Hoa Lu, and so we make a side trip to it, before returning to Hanoi after our boat ride through the caves. I think of Hoa Lu as a real highlight of our trip to Vietnam. Several temple complexes connected to long gone North Vietnamese dynasties are lined up in the valley of rice fields, on the outskirts of a humble village. But the greatest memory I hold from Hoa Lu is the climb up the hill opposite the temples. The climb is not long, but quite steep and the royal graveyard on top is not really anything special. But what a sight unfolds once I arrive at the top, reaching for my breath: in the distance, a range of hills puts a limit to the enormous surface of rice paddies, scarcely dotted by modest little houses, tombs and humble Buddhist shrines; closer by, just under my feet, like toys lying around, the three temple complexes of Hoa Lu, each one bordered by a range of large, colourful flags.

Halong
Halong Bay is probably the most popular destination for foreigners touring the Hanoi area. Together with Sapa, which –unfortunately- we have no time to visit on this trip. But Halong surely is on our programme. An early rise makes it perfectly possible to do Halong in a day trip, although many people say this is too hectic. It’s not, if you have private transport.
On our way to Halong, we even have time to explore a few villages where people are planting rice, and we also take a closer look at a large traditional cemetery on the left side of the road, where impressing and colourful tombs attract our attention. Interesting indeed, but just watch out for the needles that lay scattered around. So, yes, Vietnam does have a drugs problem, and from the number of needles lying around, a large one. I know this may be jumping to conclusions, but our otherwise so discrete guide admits that the issue is real and serious.

Back now to more upbeat thoughts. We soon reach Halong Bay, suffocating under the strong morning sun in a wind still atmosphere, pregnant with intense humidity. I can hardly breathe, but I do not really notice, because I am too excited and carried away by the unbelievably colourful and fascinating scenes that unfold on the quays, with the junks raising their large triangular sails, vendors shouting their way through the crowds with their baskets of dried fish, fruits and candy, porters crumbling under the weight of suitcases and carton boxes, people walking on and off the swaying wooden planks that, somehow in defiance of gravity, remain in place and bridge the gap between the quay and the junk decks.

Then, as if the start sign for a race had been given, within minutes all boats untie the ropes and sail off. The steep rock formations rising from the sea are visible from a distance from the quay, and also our boat is pointing that direction. Off we are. As soon as we are sailing, a slight sea breeze relieves us from the suffocating combination of heat and humidity, making it actually very pleasant to sit on deck and watch the extraordinary sea landscape go by: pointed rock islands rising vertically from the water surface, like real skyscrapers scattered around by nature. As we navigate among the towering island rocks, our boat sets off a soft wave that drifts in diminishing circular ripples towards the anchored wooden platforms on which complete floating villages are built. The people who live, sleep and work in these houses surrounded and carried by sea, wave to us or they simply ignore our presence in a daily routine; for us, however, this is not routine, but an intriguing and unique experience.

We get back to the little port of the Halong Bay just before sunset. Observing the daily spectacle of the sun reaching to the horizon takes on a very special dimension here on the quay of Halong, as the changing tones of gold and red fading into the purplish glow of the final sunrays first intensify, then blur the contrast between the sea and skyscraper island rocks at the horizon. The spectacle of nature ends with an amazing sense of serenity, as the action on the waterfront dies out in a matter of minutes. Night falls quickly here. And, as it does we hit the road back to Hanoi. We can skip dinner tonight, had enough food during the boat trip anyway.

Perfume Pagoda
On our last day in the North, we make an outing to the Perfume Pagoda, about an hour away from Hanoi. In the sleepy village of Ben Duc we embark in a small, narrow boat again. Upon embarking, a frail child slides one of her bracelets for sale over the wrist of my wife, not asking for money, yet. She will, when we return, of course. It’s obviously a sale strategy. This time a young woman rows us over the wide, slowly flowing Yen river into the valley where the Perfume Pagoda is located. The boat ride takes just under an hour and we disembark on a shaky pier surrounded by little vending stalls. From here a path leads up the hill to Tien Son, Tien Trung and several other temple complexes.

The Perfume Pagoda? It’s probably very nice, but –above all- it’s very, very far away and the weather is very, very hot and humid today. The cable car line to the Perfume Pagoda is still under construction and we can see how the forest has already been cleared away to put up the pylons: the cable’s straight track disappears at the horizon behind the third hill in view, a sight discouraging anybody in his right mind to undertake the walk there, up a hill and down a valley, three times over. So, we wisely restrict ourselves to Tien Son and Tien Trung, which are very nice and worth a visit too, have lunch in one of the obscure shacks called restaurants along the path and have a good look at the Perfume Pagoda itself from the discoloured postcards on sale from a stall next to the eatery. Soon, the cable car line will be ready and take visitors to the Pagoda without the strenuous walk. Good for them, but for now, we pass. The rowboat takes us back to the pier at Ben Duc, where we are welcomed back by the vendor girl with her bracelets. No, we don’t want the bracelet, and, yes, we have to go now. We board the car and off we are, back to Hanoi.

Today’s trip has actually been quite interesting: a very relaxing boat trip through wonderful scenery, a couple of interesting temples. After the visit we return to Hanoi, well in time for our evening flight to Saigon.

Saigon
Saigon is a city full of activity and life. You can see it prospers and has long overcome the trauma of a regime change when the Vietcong moved in with their militias and tanks and set aside the South Vietnamese government headquartered in Saigon. Since those events in 1975, Saigon is officially called Ho Chi Minh City, and initially I meticulously referred to it as such when talking to Vietnamese people. I thought the use of “Saigon” would be perceived offensive and symbolically disrespectful after all what has happened in and to this country. Until I noticed that the Vietnamese themselves more often than not refer to the city by its historical name of Saigon. So, here we are, in Saigon.

Of course, we visit the war museum, which, honestly, I dislike. War cruelties have most certainly happened and must not be forgotten, not here and not anywhere else. People must remember and be reminded, but in genuine, real museums, where facts are facts, not propaganda for a cause long settled. So many years later, people are entitled to a more middle-of-the-road insight in events and explanations, I humbly believe.

And, of course, we also visit the former South Vietnamese government palace, symbol of a defeated corrupt regime, a building without soul or taste, standing out in painful contrast to the otherwise so charming inner city of French colonial houses and public buildings. Go for instance and have a look inside the opera house or the central post office, which have been renovated into jewels of Saigon’s French colonial past. Or enter the Notre Dame Church, following like us your curiosity to know from where come those high pitched children’s voices, pointedly rising above the sounds outside of hooting cars and shouting vendors. Under the tall neo-gothic arches of the church, a bunch of local kids are eagerly rehearsing in choir the hymns for tomorrow’s mass celebration. While watching them, it strikes me that Saigon shows absolutely no complex about its past. It has absorbed with flair and ease the turbulent historical sequence of French colonialism, the high global profile of being the confident stronghold against rising communism in Indochina, then, the beleaguered capital city of a crumbling State, and finally, its destiny sealed with the political demotion in reunified Vietnam, its historical name prosaically converted into ‘HCMC”. Remarkably enough, it has apparently all been digested, even if the personal dramas are undoubtedly still in the memories of the now grown up children of all those South Vietnamese doctors, teachers and office clerks, who “needed to be re-educated” in camps after having served American interests before 1975, became destitute in the process and, if not drowned in alcoholism, eventually rebuilt a slightly less intellectual career, maneuvering a rickshaw through city traffic or shining shoes on the street corner. Not too many, I admit, but we have most certainly met a few Saigonese, who did confide in us the story of their fathers and mothers. They show no bitterness, the gentle smile does not disappear from their lips, they have wifes and kids and fully live their daily lives in the whirling bubble of Saigon’s energy, they work and hope and dream, but they do remember, very well.

No further dark thoughts, though. Saigon is a very enjoyable city to spend a few days, picking up the sounds and sights, having a stroll along the wide boulevards, watching people pass by while having a cup of coffee on a terrace in the best of Parisian traditions. I definitely do like the place very much. It is different from Hanoi, though, less composed and less orderly, but with the flair and the benign, pleasant arrogance of ‘une grande dame’ who has seen a lot in her life.

The Mekong Delta
I really think no visit to Vietnam is complete without a few days wandering about the Mekong Delta. How many novels had I read with the mighty river in a protagonist role? Speaking even more to imagination now that I am here, the Mekong fulfills all my expectations, this majestically wide river, bringing the muddy waters from far and mystic lands of mountains and hills to the sea via an intricate maze of tributaries, blessing the people of the delta with untold fertility of land.

The rural simplicity of life on river boats or in shaky little houses along the canals that connect the arms of the Mekong river, the sense of past glory of the provincial cities like Can Tho and Cai Rang, with their floating markets, their fruit orchards, their streets lined with French merchant houses. Beyond these cities, as we gently wind by boat through the canals, I get a feeling of remoteness, close to nature and far from man, accompanied on this journey only by the sound of the boatman’s paddle hitting the water in a monotonously regular tempo and by the occasional squeak of an alerted bird, high in the trees. Then, all of a sudden, behind the curve and hidden in thick vegetation, a shabby wooden ‘monkey bridge’ betrays the presence of human civilization and, indeed, seconds after, a cluster of three or four little huts comes into view. Each one of the little houses is connected to a tiny wooden landing platform at the river bank by a narrow footpath, probably treaded bare by the footsteps of endless generations of people moving through the eternally same routines of rural life. Occasionally, along the wider canals, there is even the white or pink spine of a catholic mission church, pointing skyward in a bizarre contrast of sophistication with the dark green surroundings of lush, unspoiled subtropical vegetation. It’s all part of a very special and unique mixture, comparable to nothing that comes to my mind from any other place in the world where I have traveled.

From all other impressions, the early morning boat ride on the Mekong River around Cai Rang, with the busy floating market, remains dearest to me. I am fascinated by the spectacle of ladies with their elegant long dresses and their traditional cone hats, shopping around for their cabbages, onions, dried fish and what have you, ably and swiftly maneuvering their little rowing boats from one vendor ship to the other, as if they were casually walking between the stalls of my village’s Sunday market. I am also fascinated by the intensity of life here, everybody busy, all the time: bargaining, buying, selling, loading, carrying, inspecting, rowing, shouting orders, exchanging thoughts and greetings.

Soc Trang is one of those little provincial towns hidden behind a curve of the majestic Mekong river. I find Soc Trang very special because of its Khmer background. Under the scorching sun of mid morning we have to wait for a little bony guard to turn up with the key to the Khmer museum. He does not fully manage to hide his displeasure of having been ripped out of his late morning nap. No worry, though, behind us, the museum will close for the day. It’s already midday, after all! Not really very frequently visited, the museum is worth every minute of the waiting and suffering we did at the doorstep: the artifacts are very interesting and add yet another dimension to our Vietnam exploration. Apart from an old dethroned bronze statue of South Vietnamese soldiers miserably lying around in a corner of the museum’s inner court, everything here on real display is ancient and Khmer. Indeed, this is historically and culturally Khmer land, with close affinity in religion, language and architecture to nearby Cambodia. The colourful pagoda across the street leaves hardly any doubt about that either. In Soc Trang there is furthermore this other pagoda complex – its architecture also betraying a distinct Khmer background – where those eerie creatures, bats, hang from the nearby trees in uncountable numbers, only exceptionally giving up their lazy upside down rest position for a short, nervous flight above the trees, then attaching themselves again to a scarce vacant spot on a branch, and quickly resuming their hanging position, most of the time motionless, only now and then fanning a bit of cool air onto their body with a few rapid flaps of one of their crooked black wings.

Back to Saigon
It’s early morning when we hit the road from Can Tho back to Saigon. Quite a trip, actually. The road is fairly long and I had not realized that we had reached so far South of the big city over the past several days, as we were moving gradually further into the Mekong Delta. Not a particularly interesting day, today. Rather than watching the landscape of sleepy villages, dusty road shops and chaotic petrol stations slide by my window, I’d prefer to be traveling on the canals now, in a rowboat. Never mind: a relaxed evening stroll in the cosmopolitan central avenues of Saigon near the Opera, and a creative Vietnamese dinner table lie ahead, as a fine consolation.

Cu Chu Tunnels
Our last day in Vietnam. For now, that is. Tonight we will take the plane back to Bangkok and thence on to our final destination, home. But, first, we take advantage of the good half day to visit the Cu Chu Tunnels, less than fourty kilometers North West of Saigon. Some had told us to go and visit the place, some had advised us not to, both camps in equal numbers. And both were probably right. This arena of daily and endless combat between Americans and their tiny, misleadingly frail-looking and shrewd Vietcong enemies in the years and months before Saigon fell, has indeed become too much of a tourist trap to my taste. But, regardless, it does drive home a powerful message of how nightmarish those combat situations must have been. As we follow the guide into the underground corridors, onto the abandoned American armoured vehicle, into the kitchen cellars where we are fed pieces of tapioca for a taste of Vietcong soldiers diet, and along the reconstructed booby traps, as inventive as cruel, my mind never quite detaches itself from the fear, disorientation and feeling of vulnerability that must have constantly accompanied those twenty year old GI’s on each of their moves. I also think of their parents back home, devoured with anguish and despair for their boy on a faraway mission hardly understood by any and despised by many. I sincerely admit that with my Western background, I have more mental difficulty to dig into the skin of the soldiers and their beloved ones on the opposite side of the conflict, but I can perfectly well imagine that they too were pray to very similar feelings of human vulnerability, regardless how committed they were to their cause and their objective. Just as well that it is all over. At least, here in Vietnam it is. Only half appeased by this thought, I sip from the ice-cooled coconut I have bought myself, somewhere during a stop on our way back to Saigon. Actually, not the way back to Saigon, but to the city’s airport. I can take my time, Vietnam Airways will almost certainly be delayed ….

Thank you for the wonderful trip report. We are doing a similar trip in Nov. There is not alot of information on this board on Vietnam. I really enjoyed reading your decriptions of day excurions from both Hanoi and HCMC.
Did you find halong bay clean? do you regreat not doing an overnight trip? I have heard that there is all sorts of junk floating in the water. Mabee they have cleaned it up.
Also did you stay just one night in The Meking Delta? If so where would you reccommend? It sounds like you saw alot in the Delta. And had a very good mix of the cities and countryside?
Also what company did you do your excursions through?
Thanks for sharing your trip experiences!!!!
Sally

Hi Sally.
The Halong Bay did not strike me as dirty or polluted. Of course in the little harbour there may be things floating around, but once you are at sea, it all looked rather pristine to me.
As I wrote, if you have own transport, a day trip to Halong Bay is perfectly feasible with a bit of an early departure from Hanoi. I am told that Halong City and so are really not much.
We stayed four days in the Mekong Delta and actually did several things more than the highlights I described. We stayed mostly at the Can Tho Victoria, which is a very nice hotel at Can Tho. It is a bit secluded, along the river, but they have a ferry to the quay of Can Tho city

Really enjoyed your trip report and your impressions. You captured so much of the feel of each place. We are thinking of Vietnam for a future trip and your report really enticed us. Would love to learn more of the logistics -- who you used to plan your trip, hotels, how long in each place etc.

Thanks for the great report.

Did you take a tour or hire a private guide/driver for your daytrips from Hanoi?

We organised part of the trip with Diethelm in BKK. International flights and a number of hotels we booked ourselves. We got normal rooms at reasonable prices whereas we were initially told by the agency that no normal rooms were available, only suites. So, we booked those ourselves.
We stayed in VN for 2 weeks: 6 days in Hanoi and surroundings, all outings in day trips. Then to Saigon, where we spent 2 days, and the remaining four days were in the Mekong Delta.
Hotels: Hanoi - Sunway; Saigon - Majestic; Can Tho - Victoria

Hi Cram,
Thanks for responding. Were there any highlights of the Delta that you can share? We will be spending 3 nights. Our first night in Can tho, second at a farming cooperative and 3rd in Chou doc, the on to P.P., S.R and end in Laos.
We are joining our daughters university group, but my husband and I plan to stay at the Victoria in Can Tho and Chou Doc.

This is the only part of the trip I can not get enthusiastic about. We are going mainly to share the experience with our daughter. But in my mind I imagine muddy waters, dirt and overpopulation.

I used Diethem for Burma and some guides in Thailand and was very happy with every experience.

I read your Burma trip report and Have being trying to get back, since our time was so short. You brought back great memories.

Sorry to ramble, but if you can provide any infromation to get me enthusiastic about Vietnam it would a godsend.
Thanks sally

The Can Tho Victoria Hotel is really nice. Am told the one is Chou Doc is very nice too. You can get by Victoria boat from there all the way to PP, seems to be very nice experience.
The Mekong Delta is wonderful and exotic. You will enjoy it, even if the waters of the Mekong are indeed rather muddy and brownish. There are some highlights in the report, there are also several stork parks which are worthwile to visit (outlook towers, nothing more, but quite interesting). Furthermore, the highlight of the Mekong Delta is actually the experience of winding through the canals. Really nice, you'll see. You should look forward.

Thanks so much for the report. Did you arrange the day trips after your arrival in VN? Can you give us some info on the hotels you stayed in in Saigon and in Hanoi? I did an all-too-brief trip in 2000 to Saigon/Siem Reap and am longing to explore more of Vietnam soon. Thanks again for posting.

Thank you so very much, cram, for posting your informative report on Vietnam! It was enjoyable to read your experiences in a nation that I plan to visit next year. Once again, thanks.

In Hanoi we stayed at the Sunway Hotel, in Saigon at the Majestic. We had booked the trips from before with Diethelm, but arranged for the hotels ourselves as this proved to be considerably cheaper.

Cram-great report. Your prose is exquisite. The images formed easily as I read. We've been thinking of two weeks in VN and your report may spur us onwards.