Taking no prisoners. Including herself.

Bắc woke me up at 6am to go to Metro, a Costco-like Vietnamese supermarket.

We “stocked-up” on a few items for her house, but buying in bulk takes on a new dimension of difficulty when you have to transport everything on a motorscooter. (Travel Tip: don’t buy pomelos — large oversized grapefruit — when riding back-seat on a bike).

Perhaps it was the multi-cockroach exposure from previous nights or an increase of diesal fumes in my diet, but when we got back to the house I had little appetite.

I managed to eat a half loaf of white, airy bread, but couldn’t continue any further after seeing “windy ants” crawling on the loaf (“they come on food so fast, like the wind”).

Normally, I consider myself an adventurous traveler, but this heat-pollution-humidity combo was packing a mean punch.

Needless to say, when Lasse, my friend’s boyfriend living in Hanoi, called to say I was welcome to stay at his place if I was hankering for western amenities, I said Yes, Please.

His apartment, amazing. It is plush, complete with sweet-souled housekeeper, and makes a girl feel like she could just sink into that jacuzzi bathtub…

I know, I know. For a real, blog-worthy adventure I should have been seeking out the street phỏ. But I must tell you: travel is for a range of experiences. That, and I wanted to have clean water in under 4 hours for one night, okay?

Lasse and I lived the good life, with take out and House DVDs. But after a night of buckwheat soba noodles and wine, I stepped out of the air-cooled marble floor and onto the balcony.

Hanoi at night — her sweet humidity engulfed me. From 6 stories up, the traffic noise called to me as miraculous kisses of wet air.

Yes, yes, was all I answered. Tomorrow I will come back to you, tomorrow.

§382 · October 21, 2007 · Couch-hop, Location-Location · · [Print]

Leave a Reply