Welcome to Hanoi

We left home not knowing if we would fly to Hanoi or to Saigon or not at all! A couple of days before we left we watched footage of the typboon and started to plan... but in the end our flight left on time and we settled in to relax and enjoy.

We had booked an air BnB apartment in the centre of Hanoi.  Our hosts had warned about taking cabs from the airport and so the owner had organised a pick up.  But where were they?  Nothing on our phones worked -  not even WhatsApp!  Arghh!  After a 9 hour flight and an hour of waiting we had had enough! So I approached a taxi... how much....the haggle began. He saw we knew how much we should pay.  Okay, okay I take you.  Price good!

In the cab we chilled.  That is until we saw the water!  As we drove through a wall of water rose up either side of the car.  Mmmm at least there wasn't much traffic around!

The driver set off confidently ignoring the flood, texting and talking continuously as he drove. After about 40 minutes I started to feel more than a little worried. I thought it was only 20 minutes away, I whispered to Roger. Why I whispered I don't know as his only English was Okay, Okay! He stopped, looked round, did a U turn and then pulled into a dark street and we waited. My nervousness increasing by the second.    What was happening? Out of the darkness a woman with a plastic slice of watermelon on her head appeared.  She thrust some money into his hand and he handed her a plastic bag.

'How far to Hoan Kiem? I asked hopelessly as we headed back down the road and past the airport once more.  .  Big smiles and nod of the head. We had been travelling for an hour and a half now. Plan B was coming to mind.  'Look tell him to stop at the next well lit place and we'll leap out and go to a European looking hotel'

'What about our luggage'. 

'I don't care! Let's do it.' 

We swing around the corner somehow avoiding fallen trees, people, motor bikes and street vendors and I see the sign.  'Hoan Kiem' it says.  YaY! We are here.  Our lovely driver no longer an evil hijackerleaps out of the car to get our luggage.

He beams and   Where is no 38 he asks.  As we peer around the motor cycles, street vendors and Spa Massage joints we can see 36 but no 38.  He whips out his phone and gives it to us we talk to the owner and then down an alleyway we reach our lovely apartment