We are allowed to take a taxi or other public means of transport and have it wait but we may keep it for only two scavenges. We started our day full of scavenges by visiting the ancient gate to the city up at the northern border. The taxi waited while we snapped a photo of ourselves in front of it. We got back in the taxi to go do a scavenge in the market, but as we drove along, we realized we had failed to walk throught the gate; and posing in front was not enough. We hadWe started our day full of scavenges at the ancient gate to the city. the driver turn around to take us back so we could do it right. Dumb waste of time. (Ten minutes, maybe). In the market, we had to find something from the war. We took a picture of camoflage pants. From the market, we headed to Ho Chi Minh's masoleum.
But first, a word about taxis and dong. The legitimate ones are quite reasonably priced. The airport trip of a half hour or so in a large taxi was $12. But In Hanoi, rogue fake taxis charge ten times that. We were warned but fell for it more than once. Part of the reason is that the currency conversion is hard to manipulate. There are about 19,000 Vietnamese dong to the dollar. Just remember to lop off four zeroes and divide by two. Easy? Let's just say that we paid $20 for what should have been about a $2 taxi ride.
To add a little salt to the wound, the creep didn't even drop us off in the right place for access to the mausoleum. The grounds must be one thousand acres (not really, but it felt like it) and we had to walk around a good bit of the walled off area to get in.
Then we were faced with security that takes your camera away from you, inserts it in a little tote bag in exchange for a numbered token and the promise that you will get your camera back at the exit to the mausoleum. No choice but to trust.
Ho lies in state in a glass case. The room is regally somber. Nine soldiers in crisp white uniforms stand guard like the Buckingham Palace guards, erect and unblinking. No one in the long snaking line of tourists whispered a word as we respectfully filed by. Not even the girl wiggling on her stillettos in front of me.
We visited some other sites on the palace grounds including Ho's stilt house which is a modest structure in the style of peasants, which he chose to live in, rather than the palace. The sparse wooden house is strkingly meager and simple.
Next was to answer the question: it was shot down during the Christmas bombing raids on December 19, 1972. What was it? Where is it? Armed with a guide book and a map, we confidently headed to the Museum of Military History. The grounds next to the museum are a bit jarring to an American. The tangled bodies of US military aircraft shot out of the sky are on display, arranged like a sculpture garden. Each airplane has a sign next to it with details about date and location it was downed. Probably not a coincidence that the Vietnamese flag waves atop a tower high above. We got to work, reading each of the signs. We could not find an aircraft with the right date. We went into the museum and scoured the exhibits. There was a small map on a wall showing Xs of locations where two B52s were shot down a period surrounding the specific December date we sought. Having spent 45 minutes reading every scrap of English, we left. Turns out we sid not get it. That plane lies crashed in a lake in the southern part of the city.
We visited the prison museum at the Hanoi Hilton. Very sad. Before it was used on Americans, they tortured and guillotined others there.
We did some other scavenges and had lunch at Cha Ca La Vong. The restaurant has been there for 100 years. They serve one dish only. They put a heated pot in front of you with some pieces of sauteed fish and less broth than a Mongolian hot pot, and you heat up fresh greens. Peanuts and dill are sprinkled on top. It was fantastic.
Next was to take a bus from Long Bien bridge area to Bat Throng. The bus terminal in that area was crowded. We looked around for the right place to stand for our destination. We "asked" a policeman by mispronouncing the name of our destination and playing charades to find out the fare and whether we needed exact change to board To ask the fare, Christine pulled out a 100,000 dong bill (worth about $50) to show him. He gasped, curled his hand around hers to hide the money and looked around motioning to be careful of pickpocketers. The farr is 3000 dong and we needed to use a much smaller denomination When the bus came and we prepared to board, I felt a tug on my purse. I foiled the pickpocketer.
The trip to the town of Bat Trang was about 20 minutes through some rural areas. The town makes pottery and there is a dizzying amount for sale. The scavenge was to try your hand at making something. In an area of all retail vendors, we spied a guy on a second floor balcony, working a potter's wheel. We convinced him and his friendly friends to let us try working with them for a moment and a photo.
When we finished, we returned to Hanoi we had originally planned to do the return trip to Hanoi by taxi, thinking that thw bus would be nerve wracking. Actually it was quite pleasant and we scrapped the plan and took the bus. Some darling high school children boarded and a 17 year old girl approached me, eager to converse in English. Great experience.
As the bus pulled back into the depot, we braced for the moped chaos and continued on scavenging until about 8 PM. The next morning, we had a few more hours to get in the last few scavenges. We did as many as we could until the noon deadline.
All the fellow travellers met in the Hotel Metropole lobby, handed in our results and learned what's next. Luang Prabang, Laos. Yay!!! I hoped we would go to Laos.
Before leaving for the airport, a few of us had lunch and massages in the hotel spa. Soothes away the pickpockets, moped-dodging and mud.