Hanoi, Vietnam, Oct. 24

The word “tourist” can feel like it has certain dirty connotations linked to it. If you keep abreast of current events, especially stuff that happens here in Asia, you’ll read a story about some arsehole tourist doing something moronically unfathomable almost weekly. Just like all of Europe was sick of Brits going abroad and being drunk, violent, and well, “British,” many Asian countries are sick of each other’s tourists (Especially Japan, who is sick to death of basically every other country’s idiotic tourists, and after reading endless tales of the lowest mentality of human going there and behaving like a total prick, I totally understand why.) I’m going to use a word now that some people use to describe themselves, but truly makes me shudder as I say it out loud. “Creative.” (Ugh, gag.) It seems now that every other wannabe on this planet gets to call themselves “a creative.” “I make content.” “I’m a videographer.” And to many of these such modern-day undiscovered geniuses, calling themselves a tourist sits rather uncomfortably on their hipster view of themselves. “I’m not a tourist, I’m a storyteller.” (You’re a tourist with a camera.) “I’m not a tourist, I’m a film maker” (You’re a tourist with a video camera.) “I’m not a tourist, I’m a traveler.” (You’re a tourist with a trust fund and never had a real job.) But last year, in the October Golden Week holidays that bless the rest of the world with a zillion Chinese visitors, all eager to spend tons of cash, eat everything that looks delectable, and take a million selfies next to things, me and my sidekick companion were all too happy to embrace the title. Tourists we were, and like moths to a flame, our destination was tourist central; Hanoi, Vietnam.

Me and my photography husband, Frankie, on Hanoi train street. We’ve covered some miles together.

Every Clyde needs his Bonnie, every Fred West needs his Rose, and this Prince Charles needed his very own Camilla. And my Camilla is Frankie. Photographer. Oracle of camera knowledge. Czech. Large. We’d been on endless photo walks together, even a couple of overnighters in Hong Kong, a weekend in Xiamen, Guangzhou, and many more, but this was to be a week abroad, cameras in one hand and a cold beer in the other. Our flight was at an ungodly early hour, so instead of waking up before dawn to get from Shenzhen to Hong Kong airport, we slept (very little) in Hong Kong airport. Personally, I somewhat enjoyed it. Beers and a bottle of wine, it felt like a night of camping before the main event. Hanoi was to be our playground, breathing in the sights and smells of one of the most tourist-y cities in all of Asia. Flights were cheap, hotel was in an excellent location and very reasonable, and food was delightful. Before heading there, another friend, understanding of my love for the amber nectar, had recommended something called “daily beer.” It’s a local low-alcohol lager with no preservatives, so it’s made fresh daily and delivered to all the little local street restaurants. It’s cold, refreshing, cheap, and readily available. And that’s all I need from a holiday beer. I also have to say that the food in Hanoi was superb. I’ve had some thoroughly unenjoyable meals in other Asian countries and cities, but the local cuisine of Hanoi was fantastic. Being such a tourist hot spot, there was every conceivable style of restaurant there, Greek, Thai, Steakhouses to sushi shops. Personal highlights of the week for me were the 4-P’s pizza (call me a heathen, going for pizza in Vietnam, but it was sensational) and the peanut butter oat milk iced latte (call me a hipster wanker but this, too, was also sensational.) And being a non-meat eater, there was plenty of vegan/vegetarian options available. But enough of this, what about Hanoi itself?

This wonderful lady was a waitress at one of the many “Daily Beer” spots we frequented. She very politely asked me to take her photo, of which I was more than willing to oblige, If I lived in Hanoi, I’d be at her little place every day. She was lovely.

Young lady burning effegies on the street, I presume to honour loved-ones passed.

Vietnam has clearly been through a troubled past. Colonized by the pesky French, the garlic munching European nemesis of the British, and then ravaged by the American military for a decade during the Vietnam/American war (depending on which side is talking about it,) Vietnam is now pulling it’s pants up and becoming somewhat of a powerful player in Asia. Hundreds of factories have left China due to rising labor costs and unforeseeable future prospects, and Vietnam now has one of the biggest bases of manufacture in this part of the world. Look at the label inside your shirt or jeans or bag, and there’s a very good chance it’ll say “Made in Vietnam.” And of course, for a reasonably small country, it’s tourist heaven. Hundreds of miles of coastline, crystal clear waters peppered with gorgeous seaside resorts, make it extremely popular with visitors. Before arriving there, I’d read online that several people stated that Hanoi is good for a day or two, but after that it’s time to travel elsewhere. I personally didn’t find that at all. We were there for 6 days, and I could have happily stayed another 6. I’ll also be honest and say that Hanoi itself clearly isn’t an accurate representation of Vietnam as a country. The same can be said for my own city of Shenzhen, meaning that China is nothing like Shenzhen in the most part. The streets were filled with tourists from every country you can imagine, although thankfully it wasn’t the magnet for obese ageing white whale-males like Thailand is now. There is a pretty manic bar street there in central Hanoi, noisy as hell and crowded to the point of claustrophobic, but we chose to not be there at the busy times. There’s also a train street, similar to Thailand and some other Asian destinations, and that gets pretty rammed with tourists and selfie girls, but that’s also easy to avoid if you so wish.

I wish I’d had a wider lens at the fabric market, it was super cramped for space but awesome for photos (but not for me)

Yeh, I see you…

We did a lot of the tourist stuff. The old quarter, with its street markets and coffee stands. The city area across the train bridge, and the huge fruit market underneath it. The Hanoi Hilton old jail certainly gives you the chills. It’s hard to believe just how cruel humans can be to one another, and the level of suffering experienced by so many there is upsetting to say the least. Frankie spent a day on a cruise around Hay Long Bay, and I stayed in the town. I get sick as a dog on anything that floats, so I took a long walk out of the city, found a bookshop and a park and got shouted at by an old lady for using the public toilets but not paying (I didn’t know I had to pay-to-pee.) On our miles and miles of walking we did, I found that getting away from the tourist areas gave me the most pleasure. People were different, obviously used to seeing tourists, but still very warm and friendly. We also met another street photographer there one evening at a small roadside bbq/bar, another Brit who’d been living there for some years. We went out with him and he gave us a nice tour of the backstreets that we most likely wouldn’t have discovered ourselves.

On our final couple of days there, as I’ve experienced with many other places I’ve been to, I wanted to stay longer. Sometimes you visit a place and tell yourself “Right, I’ve seen there, now where’s next?” but I could, and hopefully will, visit Hanoi again sometime. It’s just a nice place to get away from the daily grind, the same old faces and places you’re used to. It’s not a crazy party town like Pattaya or Angeles city, and it’s not a sleepy old fart of a place like Macau. It’s a nice balance of restful busyness. It’s remarkably unremarkable, in a way. There’s everything you could want there from a holiday, all in a very small, friendly, affordable place. The only thing I ironically found somewhat annoying is… the tourists. There’s a lot. And I do wish people had some clue about how to ride a motorcycle/scooter before renting one and causing panic up and down the streets and walkways. But I digress. My next trip to Vietnam won’t be Hanoi again, but in a few years times I’m sure I’ll make another visit there. It’s the kind of place you can recommend to almost anyone. We both had a great time, got a few nice photos, and will be left with some very fond and happy memories of our trip. This blog has no poignant remarks to end with, or some moral lesson to be learned. It was just a holiday in a nice place. As self-proclaimed artists, or “creatives,” or whatever other wanky pretentious titles we may give ourselves, it can feel really good to stop taking yourself too seriously, worry less about “making art”, and just enjoy being a tourist. I certainly did.

“I sell shirts. Blue and white shirts. You want another colour, you go next door.”

Photography Blabber; I had it firmly placed in mind that this wasn’t to be a photography trip, this was to be a holiday, and treat it as such I would. No heavy bags of camera gear (Yeh I learned my lesson from the India trip) So I’d decided to pack light. Or, at least, light enough. I took my Sony RX1r, the full frame pocket beast with the fixed Zeiss f2 35mm lens. When this camera first came out well over 10 years ago, its retail price was three thousand British pounds/American funny money dollars. Insane. It’s still an incredible camera, but the auto focus sucks. The images are gorgeous from it though, and although you have to work within its limitations, it was still the right choice for this particular trip. Stuck with a fixed 35mm focal length meant I missed a lot of shots I could have got with a zoom, like my trusty 24-105, but not having to carry the weight of a DSLR, plus lenses, made the whole week far more enjoyable. When I take my 5D4 or whatever, I’m always indecisive about which lenses to take, so I invariably pack too many. The zoom. The standard prime. The portrait tele prime. Ooh and maybe I’ll take this and that too. This just ends up with me regretting packing too much crap, and my shoulders and back paying the price for my poor judgment.

To accompany the Sony, I also took my Fuji GA645 medium format film camera. Once again, fixed lens, 60mm f4, but I really wanted to get some shots on film. The fact that those films are still resting undeveloped I my camera dry cabinet is beside the point, they are waiting for me there, to one day eventually develop and remind me of a happy week. The GA645 produces fantastic images, and as it can be used primarily as a point and shoot, you don’t have to consider photography much, like apertures and ISO and blah blah blah, you just find something nice to point it at, then press the button. This was a holiday, not a NatGeo assignment.

The photos from this week are really just snaps, nothing more. Holiday snaps of conical hats. Taking photos wasn’t paramount to me, enjoying a relaxing week with my friend was. Even though I was very much enjoying taking some photos, I felt like I was shooting much “looser,” far less bothered about making it perfect, and far more in-tune with Hanoi, just taking snaps. With the rise of the revolting giant named social media, and the quality of cell phone cameras now, there is the phenomenon of people less interested in taking photos of notable things/places, and more interested in taking photos of “me in front of this notable thing/place.” The notable thing/place is now of secondary importance; the main priority is “my face with something” to proudly show off on wechat/IG/Facebook et al. Perhaps it’s me, I know it’s completely harmless, but I find it kinda vulgar. These are the kind of people that if they met the Pope they’d ask him for a selfie before shaking his hand. It is what is it, but it’s really not my thing. Go to any concert and you’ll see an infinite ocean of people with their cell phones in the air, recording the gig instead of actually watching it, enjoying it, for themselves. The recording is more important than the memory to some. Personally, I’d rather take in the moment, breathe it in and swallow it down, before reaching for a damned camera.

Just as a final mention, I think it’s really good to reach out to other photographers in whichever place you’re going to visit, start at Instagram I guess, then make a connection and perhaps get some ideas and inspiration. The chap we unexpectedly met in Hanoi not only gave us a decent guided tour of the areas he likes to shoot, but also a much clearer perspective from a person living there for some time. Your view of the city you live in will most likely be very different from someone else’s. I like to hear about people’s lives and experiences there. One of the things I enjoy most about photography is the community you can build and be a part of, the friends you can make, the conversations about travel and others experiences you can have. Photographers can be awkward, unsocial, introverted beasts, but like many things in life, it can be more enjoyable with another.

There’s not many things cuter than a KFC dog sleeping on a pile of rosary beads