Bright Lights Big Cities

On January 29th we reluctantly left behind quiet wilderness and empty beaches that stretched on for miles for the noise and action of three large metropolises (metropoli?). First was Sydney for a couple of days of sunshine and swimming. On our first visit to Sydney several months ago we had done a lot of hiking but hadn't walked across the harbour bridge, so that was our first outing.

On the other side of the water was the North Sydney Olympic Pool, which offered great swimming under the bridge. 

During our wanderings we made sure to walk through our favourite part of the city, the Botanical Gardens, to see the beautiful flowers and massive trees.

Next on the agenda was a return to Bondi Beach, 

where we rented an umbrella, a boogie board for Tom

and a surfboard so Jacob and Paul could see if they could stand up to the waves (they couldn't, but had fun trying).

Since we felt a trip to Sydney wouldn't be complete without a visit to the opera house, 

Paul and I went to see the Barber of Seville while the kids watched Netflix back at our apartment. It didn't convert either of us to opera fans (I admit to falling asleep) but we definitely enjoyed the experience. Our other evenings were spent in our Surrey Hills neighbourhood, home to trendy cafes and restaurants, including one of Sydney's grooviest ice cream parlours

where we spent the last of our Australian dollars on a tub of delicious pavlova ice cream - meringue, passion fruit and vanilla.

We were sorry to leave Australia, land of kangaroos and vegemite,

but by now we were used to the sadness at saying farewell to places we loved, and knew we would find much to discover at our next destination.

In this case it was Hong Kong, where we had booked ourselves one night to recover for the nine hour flight from Sydney before we took the three hour flight to Vietnam. A few weeks earlier I had put a post on the Couchsurfing website asking if anyone could put us up for one night and store our camping gear while we went to Vietnam (storage depots in Hong Kong cost $500 per month - probably more than our equipment was worth!). An expat named Graham came to our rescue, offering to host us in his apartment on Lamma Island, a short ferry ride but a world away from the sights and sounds of Hong Kong, all lit up when our plane landed that night.

Graham and his roommates made us welcome and laid out tatami mats in his living room where we all immediately crashed. 

The next morning we walked along the quiet paths lined with simple thatched buildings and verdant plant growth.

We passed only walkers and cyclists on our way to the ferry 

as there are no cars allowed on the island. When we stepped off the boat we arrived into a completely different world, close to Hong Kong's transportation hub, Central Station. The city has a brilliant downtown check in service that allows you to buy your train ticket to the airport, check your baggage and get your boarding passes up to 24 hours before your flight, meaning we had several hours to explore the city and we only needed to be at the airport in time to get through security and to our gates. Unburdened by our bags and relieved at having our boarding passes in hand, we set off again in search of food. Noticing that we looked a little lost, a man stopped us to ask if we needed help, then recommended Maxim's Palace at City Hall when we told him we were hungry. We went straight there and had a terrific dim sum lunch, choosing everything we wanted from the carts that passed by our tables.

Sated, we went out to explore, and were so impressed by how smoothly the city functioned. Double decker busses and streetcars, 

overpasses and bridges enabled the movement of masses of people from point A to point B. 

Yay for electronic road pricing! 

We walked through the beautiful botanical gardens and aviary, a refuge of greenery, quiet and space in the middle of the city, then headed on the bullet train for our easiest airport trip yet.

After the two and a half hour flight we came to Hanoi, leaving all order behind us on the other side of the South China Sea. We knew a bit about Vietnam and the chaos of its streets, but it was another thing to directly experience it. Landing in the airport was routine enough, but our introduction to the Vietnamese roads began as our taxi zoomed up the one way on ramp to the highway as a moped zoomed down it, oblivious to its opposition to the flow of traffic. 

Vietnamese drivers generally obey what we know as traffic laws on the big highways, though there is no strict adherence to lanes - driving in the middle of two lanes is as acceptable as choosing one or another. It is fine to u-turn at any point, or indeed just veer in front of oncoming traffic before stopping against the flow of traffic. Also fine is to stop in the middle of the lane for a break or discussion with a fellow motorist. 

However, once we left the highway for the city streets any pretense of traffic regulations was abandoned. Heading out into the night on foot we were agog with all the sights and sounds of the street,

but when we came to a busy three lane road with no crossing to be seen we wondered if our journey had come to an end. Interesting sights beckoned on the other side but there seemed to be no way to get across. We watched as locals plunged directly into the path of hordes of speeding mopeds, and after enough of them failed to die in catastrophic accidents we decided to follow the next savvy road crossers. It was a big leap of faith to do that crossing, as well as several others after that, but soon enough we felt like we had figured out how to navigate between the chickens 

and mingle with the mopeds, on small streets

and large.

Sidewalks aren't for pedestrians, they are for eating, selling and moped parking, sometimes all at the same time,

so the streets were are the only place to walk.

The next night we had a "food on foot" tour with a local guide, and over a delicious dinner of ten courses at nine different restaurants and street stalls,

we learned the conventions of crossing the street. Firstly, never run and never stop, just walk smoothly and surely across the traffic. Secondly don't make eye contact with anyone or they will get distracted from their driving and perhaps aim straight for you. Thirdly the bus is king so abandon all rules and just get out of his way as he will run you down.

The traffic chaos is almost mesmerizing, and the complex weaving between the mopeds, cars and pedestrians is like a kind of ballet, albeit a noisy one. Although the streets are definitely more dangerous, I found there was a kind of respect for pedestrians that isn't found at home. At least everyone agrees that pedestrians are entitled to be on the street, and the speed of the traffic is generally a lot lower. If we tried charging out in the middle of Avenue Road at home we would either be smashed to bits or cause a massive pile-up, whereas on a similarly busy road in Hanoi the traffic just parted around us like water around a stone.

We were way too intimidated to try biking in the heart of the city, but we did rent bikes to cycle around West lake. The weather was a constant grey, so instead of in the sky

we found colour in the trees

the temples, 

and the Lunar New Year displays.

We spent our days wandering through the streets, visiting the Ho Chi Minh square where guards yelled at Jacob for climbing on one of the monuments,

and strolling past the street side entertainment of cock fights.

We tried to escape from the city chaos with a trip to the playground, 

but as soon we entered the gates to the park (ticket purchase required) blaring music from loudspeakers throughout the park replaced the traffic noise. 

Though exciting, the uniformly grey skies and constant buzz of urban life was a bit overwhelming after the paradise of time in nature in Tasmania. I found it a little hard to adjust but soon enough we were piling onto the overnight bus and heading south to what we hoped would be more peaceful environs!