Papa, Potholes & Pho: Ninh Binh Tales

Kids, after a week in the noisy streets of Hanoi, we found ourselves in Ninh Binh — and oh, what a change it was. Our driver whisked us through the countryside, past rice fields and water buffalo, until limestone mountains suddenly rose out of nowhere. 

When we arrived at our little cottage on the lake, it felt like stepping into another world. The sunset painted the water gold, and for the first time in days, there was silence. No horns, no shouting — just peace. Your Grandma had found heaven.

The next morning, butterflies danced around us as we sipped coffee on the terrace. Breakfast was ready — steaming pho, an omelette, and strong Vietnamese drip coffee. That’s when the fun began. An Indian couple walked in, and I greeted her with “Namaste.” She laughed and replied “Good morning!” — our languages had reversed. To top it off, we discovered they were from Sammamish, Washington — practically neighbors! By the end of breakfast, we had new friends, a phone number, and even an invitation to meet her family in Chennai when we visit India.

Fueled by pho and laughter, we hopped on a Vespa. Now, calling it a “road” is generous — it was more like dodging potholes the size of bathtubs. Grandma clung to me, laughing and squealing, while I tried to keep us upright. 

Eventually, we rolled into Tam Coc, where traffic felt like “mini Hanoi.” 

We wandered Hoa Lu Old Town, ate chocolate buns, and I even got roped into a group photo with Vietnamese teenagers who thought Papa was a celebrity.

Lunch was thali at a remarkable Indian restaurant, where the owner gave us tips for our upcoming trip to India. 

And because we’re spoiled, we ended the day at a spa: sauna, steam bath, herbal soak, and a 90‑minute massage. The cost for both of us? Forty‑two dollars. Kids, I tell you — Vietnam is heaven for your wallet and your back muscles.

Jurassic Park and Giant Spiders

Sunday wasn’t as busy as the days before, but it was just as memorable. After another delicious breakfast at our homestay, we hopped back on the motorbike and rode 50 kilometers through the countryside to Cuc Phuong National Park. The entrance fee was 140,000 dong — about $5.32. 

In the U.S., you couldn't even look at a National Park sign for that amount.

The moment we entered, it felt like stepping into another world. Imagine Hawaii’s lush greenery, but bigger, bolder, and wilder. Leaves the size of cars, ferns as tall as buildings — it was like Mother Nature had turned up the volume.

The highlight was climbing nearly straight up to a cave where human artifacts over 7,000 years old had been found.

We didn’t discover any treasures, but we did meet the largest spider I’ve ever seen — bigger than my hand.  Let’s just say Papa climbed down faster than he went up.

At the bottom, we rewarded ourselves with fresh coconuts, shared with a new friend from Germany. Once again, the best part of travel isn’t just the sights — it’s the friendships you make along the way.

On the ride back, Grandma and I had our Abbott and Costello moment trying to figure out how to pump gas in Vietnam. Picture two confused tourists, a motorbike, and a gas pump that seemed to have its own personality. We laughed until our sides hurt, and eventually, with a little help, we got it done.

Our last (and best) day in Ninh Binh

Our final day in Ninh Binh began with a drizzle, just enough to remind us we weren’t in charge of the weather. We headed to Trang An for a boat ride that felt straight out of King Kong — in fact, some of the movie was filmed here. For three hours, an older Vietnamese woman rowed us through rivers and caves, sometimes using her legs to propel the oars. We ducked low to avoid cave ceilings dripping water, and then emerged into sunlight with limestone peaks towering above us. It was breathtaking.

We stopped at temples, and I even dusted off my Spanish with visitors from Barcelona. 

That was the magical part of the day. The comical part came later. We tried to mail gifts home, but the post offices were closed for lunch. We killed time with sweet bread from a tiny bakery, standing on the sidewalk as school kids rode past shouting “hello.” For fifteen minutes, we felt like zoo animals, waving back at giggling kids. A couple even stopped for selfies, their laughter contagious.

Finally, the post office reopened. For the next hour, we wrestled with Google Translate to ship two boxes. The postage came to 3,000,000 dong — about $113 — and we were short. I set off in search of an ATM, got caught in the rain, and wandered in circles until a young man pointed me to a bank just blocks away. All ended well: packages shipped, rain gone, and a wonderful dinner to close the day.

And so, kids, our four days in Ninh Binh comes to an end. We had sunsets, potholes, spiders, coconuts, laughter, and friendships from Sammamish to Barcelona to Germany. Tomorrow, we head back to Hanoi to catch a flight to Hue. The adventure continues…

Hanoi: The History The Humor and The People Connection

Kids, let me tell you about our time in Hanoi. The Old Quarter is a maze of streets buzzing with scooters, vendors, and laughter.

Temple of Literature

We wandered into the Temple of Literature, where we met Confucius — well, his spirit anyway. As I stood there sweating buckets in the humid air, I imagined him chuckling: “Man who perspires much learns to appreciate shade.” Your Papa was living proof, dripping like a leaky faucet while Grandma tried not to laugh.

Oh My, The Food!

We ate like royalty. Bowls of steaming pho, crispy banh mi, and smoky bun cha kept us wanting more. Just when we thought we couldn’t eat another bite, we stumbled upon a fantastic Indian restaurant near our hotel. And for dessert? A cup of egg coffee at the very shop that invented it — rich, sweet, and strong enough to make Papa’s eyebrows dance.

More Royal Treatment

To pamper ourselves, we had three massages in Hanoi. The total cost? Less than one massage back home. Grandma declared it the best bargain of the trip, while I declared myself officially spoiled.

This is called the Darth Vader massage.

A Memory of a Lifetime

During our travels, we have encountered people that we will always remember  There was Paul, the good samaritan from the Batu Caves in Kuala Lumpur.  There were the two old, British barflies that we golfed with in South Africa.  And then there was Duong Lam.

The moment that touched us most came in the ancient village of Duong Lam. Down a quiet alley, an elderly woman sweeping leaves invited us into her home. She spoke no English, yet through smiles, hand gestures, and a little Google Translate, we shared tea, laughter, and stories. Her son and grandchildren joined in, and for an hour we felt like family.

That’s the magic of Vietnam: the people. They welcomed us, embraced us, and reminded us that travel isn’t just about places — it’s about the friendships and laughter you carry home.

And now, kids, brace yourselves… next stop is Ninh Binh. They say it’s like “Ha Long Bay on land.” I say it’s where Papa will probably sweat even more, Grandma will find another massage, and she will try not to film her own nose again. Stay tuned — the adventure continues!

Rain, Jet Lag and The Great Indoors.

Well kids, sometimes you just roll with the punches!

The first three days in Hanoi have been a bit of a blur—equal parts rain, humidity, and jet lag. Our bodies have been in full rebellion mode, adjusting to the time zone, the climate, and the general sensory overload that is Hanoi. We’ve spent more time in the hotel than we expected, but sometimes that’s just how travel goes. You surrender to the rhythm of the place—and your own limits.

The news today was all about a second typhoon about to hit the Philippines less than a week since that archipelago was battered by the first typhoon.  Really sad.  I spent a good deal of time there while in the Navy and it's heartbreaking to see the reports of the devestation.  The good news for us is the storm should be heading north and miss Vietnam and Thailand (our next destination). 

Lining the walls with broken glass

Still, we did manage to venture out yesterday for a visit to Hoa Lo Prison, known to many Americans as the “Hanoi Hilton.” Walking through its stark corridors and reading the stories etched into its walls was sobering. It’s impossible not to think of John McCain and the unimaginable hardship he endured there. The experience was heavy, but important—a reminder of the layers of history that live beneath the surface of this vibrant city.

Today should be the end of the rain and we're hopeful to get out and about for the remainder of our time here.  

We did head out for a walk this morning and was able to see dinner being prepared.  I guess the rain water helps clean the fish.

Sonja was also busy making new friends while I just kept to myself even though I was being referred to as "handsome".  

With all this free time, I'm adding a side light to this trip's blog.  Little words of wisdom and travel tips that I'll call "Papa's Tips".  

Papa’s Tips: Hanoi Edition (Rain-Soaked and Jet-Lagged)

1.  Don’t fight the jet lag—embrace it. If your body wants to nap at 2 p.m., let it. You’re not lazy, you’re just syncing with the Earth’s rotation… eventually.

2.  Humidity is not your friend. Your hair will revolt, your clothes will cling, and your deodorant will be tested. Pack light, breathable clothes—and maybe a second shirt for the afternoon.

3.  Rain gear is essential. Umbrellas are great until the sideways rain hits. A poncho may not be fashionable, but neither is being soaked to your socks.

4.  Arrival massages are genius. Why did we wait so long to discover this? Skip the welcome beer—go straight to the spa.

5.  When in doubt, get the haircut. Especially if it comes with two shampoos, three attendants, and a head massage that makes you forget your name.

6.  Immigration lines are like buffet lines—what looks shortest might be hiding a traffic jam. Always watch the flow, not the length. And if you find yourself stuck, don’t be afraid to switch lanes. Bonus points if you help a struggling family and earn a few icy stares in the process.

7.  When crossing the street in Hanoi, don’t wait for a break in traffic—it’s not coming. Just walk slowly, confidently, and let the motorbikes flow around you like water around a rock. Bonus points if you don’t flinch.

More coming about Hanoi...  the dry version.

Hanoi: Come for the Pho, Stay for the Haircuts

From typhoon detours to Vietnamese massages and motorbike mayhem—our first 24 hours in Hanoi were anything but ordinary. Come along as we navigate immigration chaos, discover the art of the Vietnamese haircut, and settle into the rhythm of the Old Quarter. Rain or not, the adventure is just beginning.

First Impressions of Hanoi: Typhoons, Massages, and Motorbikes

After a smooth few days in Singapore, we boarded our flight to Hanoi—a 3½-hour hop that turned into a slightly longer journey thanks to a typhoon sweeping through southern Vietnam. Our pilot rerouted to avoid the worst of it, and while the skies were moody, Singapore Airlines was once again superb. The meal of prawns, vegetables, and dessert was excellent, and the service flawless.

But the real adventure began after we landed.

Immigration was a mess. We chose what looked like the shortest line, only to discover it was actually the slowest. Three lines were converging into one, and ours barely moved. I switched to a faster-moving line and caught up to Sonja within minutes. The couple behind me, from China, kindly agreed to let her join me.

Then we saw them—a young family in the slow line, struggling. Two kids under five, one asleep in the mother’s arms, the other clinging to her side. The father was pushing a mountain of luggage. It was heartbreaking. I asked the same couple if they’d mind letting the mother and children go ahead. The woman protested loudly. No amount of pleading worked.

So I did it anyway.

I gestured to the mother to join our line. She looked surprised, then grateful. The icy stares from behind were intense, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. The delay was two minutes at most. Sometimes, compassion is worth a little discomfort.

A Calm Oasis in the Old Quarter

Our hotel, the Acoustic Hotel & Spa, is a four-star retreat nestled in Hanoi’s Old Quarter. As our driver approached, the city’s chaos came rushing back—motorbikes everywhere, horns blaring, pedestrians playing real-life Frogger across the streets. It’s madness, but it’s Hanoi madness, and it’s oddly comforting.

The hotel itself is a haven. Uniformed staff greeted us at the door, and we were welcomed with a soothing cup of tea. The check-in was seamless, and the staff couldn’t have been more gracious. After quick showers, we headed to a pre-arranged appointment at the hotel’s spa.

A 90-minute Vietnamese couples massage awaited us—and it was divine. We’ve always been fans of the “departure massage,” but this was our first “arrival massage.” It’s now a permanent part of our travel playbook. Jet-lagged and weary, we melted into the experience and slept like babies that night.

Wandering Through the Mist

Our first full day in Hanoi was meant to be a recovery day, and it delivered. We drifted in and out of sleep, letting our bodies catch up. But by late afternoon, we ventured out into the misty rain for a walk through the Old Quarter.

The streets were alive with familiar chaos—smells, sounds, motorbikes, and the ever-present honking. Sonja spotted a salon tucked down an alley, and I needed a haircut. “Let’s go,” I said.

If you’ve never had a haircut in Vietnam, you’re in for a treat. A young woman greeted us and, via Google Translate, confirmed we were both welcome. She laid me down on a table for a shampoo and head massage, then led me to the barber chair where a quiet gentleman took over. 

What followed was an hour of meticulous grooming—every hair on my head and beard accounted for.

When he finished, he began working on Sonja while I was led back for another shampoo and massage. Then, a third gentleman appeared with a blow dryer and the final touches. It was a team effort, and it felt more like a spa ritual than a haircut.

Dinner with the Cool Crowd

We ended the day at the Hanoi Social Club, hoping for live music but arriving a day early. Still, the place was charming—an eclectic mix of backpackers, creatives, and digital nomads. We were easily the oldest people in the room, but the vibe was warm and relaxed.

The food was okay, nothing memorable, but the atmosphere made up for it. On the walk back to the hotel, we briefly considered another massage. But our bed won that debate, and sleep came quickly.

Looking Ahead: Rain or Shine

With the typhoon lingering nearby, the rain is expected to stick around for another two to three days. But that won’t slow us down. We’re planning to explore Hanoi’s cultural heart—starting with a walk around the iconic Hoan Kiem Lake, a visit to the historic Temple of Literature, and a solemn, respectful stop at the infamous “Hanoi Hilton,” where John McCain was once held as a prisoner of war. Each of these experiences will be shared in future posts, rain-soaked or not.

Updates coming in a few days...

Seattle to Singapore to Hanoi

Surviving a 17 hour flight

This is the second time we've made this journey and I don't care how well you prepare, nothing can prepare you for 17 hours sitting in a metal tube.

At our age, we don't make those long haul trips in coach anymore.  Upgrading to Business Class is worth every penny.

Being able to lie down flat and get some sleep is priceless.

You look and feel so refreshed when you arrive.

Chiangi Airport in Singapore

Without a doubt, the best airport in the world.  You could spend an entire vacation here without ever leaving the airport.  They have an indoor butterfly park, the largest indoor waterfall in the world and food to die for!  They even have a slide for kids to go between floors.

And the view from our hotel room wasn't too shabby either.

... and now we're off to Hanoi!

Hanoi: Where Dragons Fly and Motorbikes Are King

We're returning to Hanoi after a 12 year hiatus.  So kids, let me tell you a little story about Hanoi—our first stop on this three month adventure.

 Over 1,000 years ago, a king named Lý Thái Tổ was wandering around the Red River, probably wondering if his pho' delivery was running late, when bam!—a dragon flew out of the water. Now, most people would yell “Holy $%#@!” and run. But this guy? He saw a real estate opportunity. He named the city “Thăng Long,” which means “Rising Dragon,” and declared it the capital. That’s how Hanoi got its start—thanks to a flying lizard with excellent timing. (Yes, I had to look all that up).

Fast-forward a few centuries, and the French showed up with baguettes, fancy buildings, and a love for wide sidewalks. Hanoi got a makeover—think of it like Grandma getting ready for Thanksgiving dinner. Then came wars, reunification, and finally, Hanoi became the capital of all Vietnam.Today, Hanoi is a wild mix of ancient temples, tangled power lines, and scooters that zip past like caffeinated bees. When we walk through its streets, we’re dodging motorbikes, tasting dragonfruit (no actual dragons), and maybe even finding a donut that rivals JJ’s malasada from Hawaii.

So buckle up, kids—Papa’s got stories, and Hanoi’s got history. Let’s go meet the dragon.