We flew out from Luang Prabang back to Vientiane. The windows at the airport were covered in grasshoppers, which explained the frantic diving of the swallows overhead. At the same Novotel, they brought us up to a two twin bedded room that smelled of smoke. We refused and the bellboy rushed downstairs and returned to lead us into this other wing that was air conditioned and decorated in beautiful new wood. Obviously this was the wing that reviewers must have seen to give this hotel a 4 star rating! After freeing a trapped lizard from the bathroom, I enjoyed the nice air conditioned room while Robert went to town in search of an Internet cafe and dinner.

A short flight to Hanoi the next morning and we were in the capital of what was North Vietnam. Our new guide, Zhong, was more interested in picking up a Vietnam Airlines stewardess then helping us fill out our paperwork for entry visas.

Our first stop was the Temple of Literature, which is where students take many field trips as it drives home their need to study. Robert snuck in on one of the class photos much to the amusement of the students who yelled 'Hello? Hello?' to any pale-faced foreigner.

We then went into the old quarter for an unguided walk. Immediately two young bicycle pedaling salesman escorted us - offering to sell us t-shirts, postcards or copies of 'The Quiet American' or the 'The Sorrow of War'. With lots of practice on foreigners and private lessons, these boys possesed excellant verbal English skills. While Robert wasted their time in idle talk - (I was uncomfortable with their attention) I noticed a woman with her cat across the street. She walked, held and talked to her beloved orange cat, which was heartening to me in the swirl of street commerce.

We made our way in between motorcycles and cars on one-lane streets through the various tradesman streets filled with plumbing, toys, silver or paper I was staggering with clenched teeth as one had to make sure that they didn't step in wastewater or have one's toes run over by a Vespa. Robert loved the market and was taking photos of laundry up on balconies or of the arched doorways that snaked back behind the shops. As he would focus his camera on the balconies, everyone on the street level would stop and look up to see what he was photographing. After a quizzical look up, they would look at him and back up unable to decipher the image from their lives he was bent on capturing.

Women wore the traditional peaked rice hats and the men were often wearing military helmets with an old army green jacket. Occasionally a motorcycle with a sidecar would slowly makes it's way down the street. The police would ask street merchants to move stands blocking the sidwalks or motos to move. Men playing impromptu board or gambling games would move on in advance of the arrival of the police.

With the intense heat and pollution of the city we made our way through Ba Dinh Square in front of Ho Chi Minh's Mausoleum, that contains his embalmed corpse. Behind were his car, his old house (with secret tunnels that were for his escape) and the Presidential Palace. We also made a quick stop at the Canadian Embassy located close by so Robert could say 'hi'.

A quick reprieve was had at Brother's Café, which is a tourist & embassy venue. The outdoor areas under the trees made us forget the busy and polluted streets outside. They had a pleasant combination of local food and the usual tourist fruit and pastries.