Won't you come and say if you know the Huế to blue?

"One of the great joys of life is riding a scooter through Vietnam, to be part of this mysterious, thrilling, beautiful choreography. Thousands upon thousands of people — families, friends, lovers — each an individual story glimpsed for a second or two in passing, sliding alongside, pouring like a torrent through the city. A flowing, gorgeous thing."

-Anthony Bourdain, Parts Unknown

I never bought a scooter for myself but I did sometimes ride xe ôm's (literally: bike hug), the motorbike taxis that are one of the fastest and often cheapest ways to get around Vietnamese (and other Asian) cities. And what Bourdain says is true, and I think doubly true if you ride pillion, and don't have the burden of navigation to distract you from truly soaking in the life happening around you. It can be a wonderful experience. But riding on the train is a close second. You do end up passing through towns as well as through the countryside, often you're basically moving alongside people's backyards, and looking into their lives for only a second and a half. Just long enough to burn into your brain the memory of a face, a house, the stance of an old woman or the uninhibited joy of a child flinging themselves around.

Moving on from Hội An, I grabbed the bus back to Da Nang then jumped the train to hoof it a few hours north up the coast to the ancient imperial city of Huế. Overcast weather notwithstanding, I bought myself a window seat on the eastern-facing side of the train and was ready to gaze out at the ocean for a while. Although the old woman sitting in my pre-assigned seat obstinately tried to resist moving I was polite but firm with her and finally she caved. Awkward, but... worth it.

The window was so dirty it kept setting off my macro settings, my camera trying to focus on the schmutz instead of the stunning scenery.

Of the many snacks vendors were walking up and down the aisles selling, the most objectionably smelly was definitely the dried squid.

We'll be comin' round the mountain when we come...

Landing in Huế, I stumbled down the main drag util I found a giant coffee shop, The One, that offered delightful cappuccinos and big cup-shaped seating. After checking directions to my hotel and refueling I was ready to check in and wander a bit. I had plans to meet Lenna and Sam but unfortunately the travel gods had not smiled on them like they had on me and they did not get in until pretty late. So I saved entering the actual, old imperial city until we were all together and I just wandered around the outside of the fortress for the afternoon.

The Truong Tien bridge crossing the Perfume river and a very ominous sky threatening to rain on me... AGAIN.

The moat that surrounds the entire old city and one of the bridges/archway entrances.

American War museum.

That... seems like they probably did not get permission to use this from Microsoft.

At last, Lenna and Sam arrived! We met here at Cafe on Thu Wheels (great pun restaurant name) and were happy enough with the food and experience that Lenna and I returned for our last dinner together later on in our trip.

Friends and beer and a room full of walls covered in traveler graffiti! Be still, my beating heart.

Hey, Georgians or Georgian-speakers were here! That's pretty cool.

The next day, we were up and at 'em after lots of coffee and a couple attempts at breakfast, were ready to see the Imperial City (Đại Nội).

Ngọ Môn, the main southern entrance.

The first building, Thái Hòa Palace, which you can see behind the entranceway. The place where the emperors would set and meet foreign dignitaries and guests.

(You're not supposed to take photos in here so this was kind of a stealth job. Thus why they are not very good photos.)

The Mandarin Palaces are all that remain of the once-supposedly resplendent Forbidden Purple City after the 1968 Tết Offensive.

Lenna, being saucy. We split up with Sam because his style is much more lingering, reading every detail of every plaque, and Lenna and I are much more of the skim-and-move-on style of sightseeing.

The Ancient Imperial Tennis Courts.

The Trường Sanh Residence, home of the emperor's mother.

THIS IS A READING ROOM.

Yes. This is a reading pavilion. For reading. Good grief.

The imperial gardens.

Riverboat livin'.

Later, we had a nice Western-y dinner and then went for some drinks, where Lenna and Sam found themselves a game of pool to dominate. 

I had more pressing concerns. Discounted mojito concerns.

The next day, feeling a little fuzzy but better after some coffee and breakfast, we rented some bikes and headed out to the tomb of Tự Đức. 

There were so many amazing details in the architecture of this mausoleum complex, and it was seriously a complex. The weird thing about it is you would think that if you picked out a place where you'd be buried you might not want to linger in that place but actually this was a much-loved spot for the emperor and his wives to come relax and get away from the hustle and bustle of the imperial city.

Theater. For when you're hanging out at the place you've designated your corpse to spend the rest of its existence, just chilling with the nature and lolling around with your wives, and suddenly you think to yourself, this is great but you know what would make it better? Some actors.

I'm getting a little lazy about labeling all of these but honestly this was, at best, mildly interesting and aesthetically pleasing but not the love affair that my time in Hội An was. It was a cool place to come visit and not at all expensive but it was hot as blazes and Sam got sunstroke on the way out here so Lenna and I were pretty distracted while we were touring around here.

Passing a less regal but equally interesting cemetery after we left.

While Lenna played nursemaid for Sam and tried to get his unfortunate turn of health under control, I wandered around Huế for a while and took in some more of the sights. This included: a mannequin store that haunts me to this day. Now it will haunt you too, you're welcome.

Another BLATANT Copyright violation from this place Side Walk Cafeteria, offering "McDonald Sandwich-Burger-Pizza-Past".

A lovely afternoon.

Saying our goodbyes! Parting is such sweet sorrow, especially from these guys who where my American homeslices and some of the best friends a gal could ask for while living abroad. I already dearly miss Lenna and I can only hope that some day we'll be able to live in the same city again and if not, at least have some opportunities for visiting.

I headed back to my hotel to pick up my bag and head to the train station, where I was catching the night train back to Hanoi. The platform was actually just a cement floor, and the train came in at ground level, which was an interesting development. I felt like this conductor man was cutting it pretty fine.

My bunkmate for the night, a very nice Swiss girl who was doing volunteer work between school years. There was a Vietnamese man who came in and seemed like he was going to sleep above her, but then he left after about 20 minutes and never returned so we had the room to ourselves.

Morning can of coffee, watching the palms roll by, almost finished with Don Quixote.

Passing Ninh Bình once again.

And then, we were returned to Hanoi. On the way in, maybe 45 minutes from the station, I saw a group of men huddled around a fire where they were roasting a whole dog on a spit. A good indicator that I was well and truly back in the woolly north. It was nice to be back and I did spend the night relaxing but also it was stressful, I'd now said goodbye to most of my best friends in Hanoi, seen everything I'd saved for the end of my contract when I would have the time to enjoy it, eaten everything on my Vietnamese bucket list, taken in as much coffee as feasibly possible, ridden the night train, and had one full day left to soak up as much Hanoi, pack, and visit with the few remaining pals I had still around the city. Which is what I did. Maybe I'll write more about the food (there are more pictures... many more pictures...) and some stuff about the teaching but more or less, this has been a true and mostly forthright telling of my time in Vietnam. Thanks for reading, or skipping around, or ignoring, according to your preference. I hope it was a little informative (I know this entry was light on actual information but I'm ready to move on, you know?) and somewhat entertaining. And if nothing else, I hope you like the pictures.