Roads to prosperity
Vietnam and Laos present opposite but endlessly fascinating ends of the tourism spectrum, writes David Latta.
The Vietnam War cast such a chilling shadow across the Australian consciousness that it comes as something of a surprise to learn that the Vietnamese have never heard of it. For a large part of the 20th century, the Vietnamese have raised arms against a range of foreign oppressors so that what we know as the Vietnam War is instead called as the American War locally.
Memorials and war-themed tourist attractions are littered across the country like bomb craters. The Cu Chi tunnel complex, about an hour’s drive outside Ho Chi Minh City, is a very small segment of what was originally a network of tunnels dug by the Viet Cong. At the height of the Vietnam War, it extended some 250 kilometres through the countryside and even passed under a US air base, running on three separate levels up to 10 metres beneath the surface and housing up to 80,000 people.
Segments of the narrow, claustrophobic tunnels can be explored by braver visitors. Above ground, guides proudly show the almost invisible entrances, cleverly camouflaged by vegetation, strewn amidst jungle tracks and the remains of tanks and other wartime machinery.
A shooting range lets visitors test their skill and the limits of their eardrums firing 1960s-era heavy machine guns; from the line of visitors willing to shell out 20,000 dong (about $1.40) per live round, it was evident that this was one of the more popular parts of the tour.
While the past proves an irresistible lure for tourists, the Vietnamese resolutely keep their eye on the future; the head-long rush towards prosperity, however, does pose a threat to the country’s inherent uniqueness. Since the Communist Party formally recognised the free-market system in the late 1980s, GNP growth has averaged around seven to eight per cent; Vietnam now has one of the fastest-growing economies in the world.
After generations of collectivism, everybody wants a piece of the action. The enduring image of Vietnamese life, the ethereal young Vietnamese girl in the elegant simplicity of her form-fitting ao dai pedalling a bicycle, has largely become a thing of the past; jeans, T-shirts and motorbikes are the embodiment of the nation’s aspirational economic maturity. In fact, there are more than 18 million motorcycles on Vietnamese roads and it’s estimated that around 2.5 million motorcycles were sold last year.
As a result, Ho Chi Minh City, better known as Saigon, is turning into a model of the new Asian metropolis. But Hanoi, the northern city that for a generation of Australian soldiers was the embodiment of a wily and pernicious enemy, retains much more of its historic atmosphere. With its French colonial architecture gone picturesquely seedy in the tropical humidity, it plays like an other-worldly Paris beset by an over-heating thermostat.
The Old Quarter of Hanoi is actually far older than it looks; having been established in 1010 AD, it is thus just a few years short of its 1000th anniversary. The city, edged by the turgid milk chocolate flow of the Song Hong River, is punctuated by small, highly photogenic lakes.
Like the rest of the country, Hanoi has its share of wartime attractions. None is more imposing or culturally significant to the Vietnamese than the monumental edifice that contains the mausoleum of Ho Chi Minh, who led the Viet Minh rebellion against French colonialism. Nearby is Uncle Ho’s 1960s home, part of a cultural park that also includes the imposing 1906 French mansion that now serves as the Presidential Palace.
Like most of Vietnam, the narrow streets of the Old Quarter are clogged with motorcycles. The locals have a fascinating and occasionally terrifying way of coping with traffic – they ignore everything else on the road unless it’s in front of them, waiting for a blare of a horn or a near collision to alter their trajectory.
Working on the assumption that if you can’t beat them, join them, I took the local option for a late-night tour of Hanoi’s wartime history. Max, the Australian owner of Hanoi’s Kangaroo Café, met our group late one evening with a few of his mates. We each perched on the back of a motorcycle and sped off into the humid night. The bikes dervished along narrow crowded streets and narrow laneways.
In the middle of a run-down residential area close to the Old Quarter, we stopped at the grandly named B-52 Lake. In the silken darkness, a twisted tumble of metal rose barely illuminated from a small pond. It was the remains of a US B-52 bomber shot down during the terrible carnage of the Christmas 1972 bombings in the closing days of the Vietnam War and now serving as a potent memorial.
From there, we rode on to Bach Mai Hospital, another scene of wartime atrocities. Bach Mai’s crime was in being too close to an airfield and, while most of its patients had been evacuated, dozens of doctors, nurses and staff were killed during US bombing raids. A memorial to Bach Mai’s role during wartime has been erected on the grounds and we stood muted by the overwhelming sadness as Max told the story.
While Hanoi and its people have been continually reshaped by war and peace, it has taken far longer for its neighbor to the immediate west, Laos, to emerge towards prosperity.
An hour’s flight from Hanoi is Luang Prabang in the northern tip of Laos. Dating back to the mid-14th century, it was originally called Xieng Tong and was the capital of a Lao kingdom. The entire town is a World Heritage site, holding numerous Buddhist temples and streetscapes of 19th French colonial architecture now housing boutique hotels, spas, shops and restaurants.
Bordered by the famed Mekong River, visitors can travel to craft villages and the Pak Ou Caves where hundreds of Buddhas greet pilgrims. The night markets attract local artisans selling beautifully-woven fabrics, scarves and table runners. The morning outdoor produce market is crowded with shoppers; fresh fruits and vegetables, fish, chicken and such exotic delicacies as live civets and bamboo rats provide a colourful display.
At dawn, Buddhist monks walk the streets of Luang Prabang receiving gifts of food. With their colourful robes and air of dignified calm, the procession passes by reverent locals and camera-laden tourists disgorging handfuls of rice. The town is quiet as the sun lightens the sky, clouds scudding the dark mountain heights.
Luang Prabang seems removed from the world, travelling like the monks at a relaxed pace, a place that grows from many tourists’ dream of a haven that other tourists haven’t yet discovered. Like the best parts of Vietnam, it has a readily identifiable charm, a peace that hopefully won’t be compromised by the coming of prosperity and its appearance on the world tourism stage. •
• David Latta travelled to Vietnam and Laos courtesy of Vietnam Airlines
Travel facts:
Getting there
- Vietnam Airlines has scheduled non-stop flights between Sydney and Melbourne to Ho Chi Minh City with connections throughout Vietnam and 38 international destinations. Phone 1300 888 028 or visit www.vietnamairlines.com
getting around
Where to stay
- The historic Rex Hotel in Ho Chi Minh City is centrally located in the CBD. Phone +84 8 829 2185 or visit www.www.rexhotelvietnam.com
- The Hanoi Daewoo Hotel is a modern, five-star hotel located in the central business district. Phone +84 4 831 5000 or visit www.hanoidaewoohotel.com
- The Villa Santi Resort in Luang Prabang is a comfortable boutique property. Phone +856 71 252 157 or visit www.villasantihotel.com
Where to eat
- The Kangaroo Café in Hanoi has the best burgers and friendliest staff. Phone +84 4 828 9931 or visit www.kangaroocafe.com
Tips
- Australian passport holders require visas to visit Vietnam and Laos. For information, phone the Embassy of the Socialist Republic of Vietnam on 02 6290 1549 or visit www.vietnamembassy.org.au and the Embassy of the Lao Peoples Democratic Republic on 02 6286 6933.
- At the time of writing, $AUD1 = 14,300 Vietnamese Dong (VND) and $AUD1 = 8,650 Loa Kip (LAK).
Further information
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