“How can you be a beggar if you have extra money?”-Santoka TanedaI rode out of Nanning on a posh tourist bus that would ferry me across the border and right on to Hanoi. I had to scourge the town to find this ride for a decent prices. The cost of things are rarely fixed in [...]
I rode out of Nanning on a posh tourist bus that would ferry me across the border and right on to Hanoi. I had to scourge the town to find this ride for a decent prices. The cost of things are rarely fixed in the travel world and if a price sounds like it could be cheaper it probably can be. So not satisfied with paying 200 kuai (24 dollars) for a bus to Hanoi, I sniffed around and found the same bus for 130.
I arrived in Hanoi with and stepped off of the bus into a slew of motorcycles, mopeds, and taxis. A hotel runner attached herself to me and began talking her jazz. I wanted to look at a map and she promised me one so I humored her and pretended to be interested in what she was trying to sell. But, as I walked around to the bus’ luggage compartment I saw my university chum, Dave, walking my way with a smile spread all the way across his face. He met me where I told him to and was on time. We both seemed a little surprised that we met up with each other again. I came down from Mongolia and he is a lunatic. I got the thought that travelling with him may not be so bad after all. So I quickly dispatched myself from the hotel runner and gave my ol‘ buddy a big hug. We then set off into the city.
After sitting at a little roadside beer stall and watched Dave drink down both his and my drinks we battled through the Hanoi traffic and made it to a cheap hotel.
I stayed in Hanoi for a couple of days realizing that my punk rock days provided me with a sound appreciation for madness- and the Hanoi streets are madness. Few traffic rules and streets packed with motorcycles made the city very unsuitable for the walker…but their was something about it that I liked. Or perhaps I was just glad to have left China.
Dave wanted to plan and prepare and set dates and do all of that stuff that the traveller is unaccustomed to doing and I was already beginning to wonder how much of this I could take. He wanted to go on a tour to some bay, I realized that I was going to have to compromise my travel style to acquiesce with my friend’s. He was on vacation and wanted to live it up; I did not want to damper his time with my peculiar way of happenstancially stumbling about the globe. I do not like tours, schedules make me uneasy, I live moments not days, I walk, I travel to be free. But I had to swallow myself a little bit and compromise. I am not very good at this.