Urban Planning Gone Wrong

I slept much better and felt like I had turned the corner with my cold.  Even though I had looked through all of the pictures K took during the previous-day’s tour, and wished I could have seen those things, I was now pleased that I’d taken the day of rest.  We were flying to Hanoi this morning, from the airport just outside of Hue.  At breakfast and then on the bus ride to the airport, it was obvious that a growing number of our group were now dealing with whatever virus was merrily jumping amongst us.  Several of us compared what medications they had received at various pharmacies, and there was some consistency.  Especially interesting were some “herbal cough pills” from Brazil.  I took them from the pharmacist not knowing what they were, but she indicated that worked against coughs.  Seeing as I hadn’t developed one, I didn’t know if they were effective, but interestingly it seems like all of us had been steered in the same direction.

The airport was small, relatively new, and very modern.  Far different than the busy scene at HCMC airport a few days earlier.  We were able to kill the short wait time in a nice little lounge, and our hour-long flight to Hanoi was completely full.  The flight was uneventful.  We left Hue in sunshine, though, and arrived into a rainy and very gray Hanoi airport.  Our destination this day was the famed Ha Long Bay, all of which is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, comprising thousands of limestone islands which dot a protected bay in an almost other-worldly manner.  We were hoping for nice weather, but it was not to be.  We met our new driver and bus – third of the trip – and were soon underway to the city Ha Long.  We had officially crossed into what had been North Vietnam proper, before the unification.  Hue had been located just below the former demarcation line (the 17^th parallel).  On the flight to Hanoi, I read some more in the travel guide K had gifted me (early for my birthday) right before we left.  It talked about the markedly different climate between north and south, and that Hanoi in the winter is particularly prone to gray, dreary conditions.  An atmospheric anomaly means that cold air from China creates inversions that trap low clouds and create persistent drizzle.  It sounded similar to Salt Lake City in Utah.  Well, the book was accurate, and our entire stay in the north was marked by these exact weather conditions.  To get sun, you have to come later in the year, but that comes with monsoon rains.

Airport Lounge in Hue

Our Flight to Hanoi

The airport is located northwest of the actual city of Hanoi, and we would be driving around the city and heading almost due east to the seaside.  As soon as we left the airport grounds, literally, we were surrounded by rice paddies.  Far more than we’d seen elsewhere on the trip; and believe me, we had seen a lot of rice paddies.  Vietnam is the third largest exporter of rice, after Thailand and India, and that is after their considerable population consumes the majority of the production.  The fields were sprinkled everywhere, and unlike as we’d seen elsewhere, they were surrounded at various times by large housing complexes.  It was an almost alarming juxtaposition of rural and urban for miles and miles.  The gray skies and persistent rain made it all seem particularly dreary.  On top of that, the dehumidifier on the bus was not working very well, so the windows were steaming up, making the scenes outside even murkier.

We would need a “happy room” break during the drive to Ha Long, and we ended up at a tourist-oriented complex, where we also had lunch on our own.  To make things easier, Tony gave us a choice from five dishes and called our orders ahead.  That did, ironically, mean we’d have more time to shop, as the complex was really a big tourist shopping mall.  When you walked, there was a huge showroom on one side, while the other side had about 25 workstations – all staffed – at which artisans were hand-stitching very elaborate pictures, primarily of scenery but also of people.  They were admittedly, quite beautiful.  The second room was a huge jewelry store, with a predominance of jade and diamonds.  The final area – the largest of all, and also where the restaurant was located – was every conceivable souvenir one could imagine of Vietnam.  I was all extremely capitalistic, and considering all the pictures of Ho Chi Minh hanging on the walls, it just felt a little disingenuous for ”the socialist republic.”

We ate lunch first, which was quite tasty, and then did our obligatory shopping.  We did buy one of the hand-stitched landscapes, and we learned that the artisans were all affected by Agent Orange.  As part of the reparations paid by the United States, this program was started to train and provide jobs for children and grandchildren of original victims.  It was not until we made our purchase, when they brought us over to meet the woman was made it, that we realized that most of the artists were missing limbs, either completely or partially.  I will admit to being startled when I realized, but it made me feel better about our “contribution to the local economy.”

Our Handstitched Landscape Aritist (Agent Orange Birth Defects)

It was another hour and a half after lunch until we neared the coastline and caught our first glimpses of the bay and its famous islands.  The weather and steamy bus windows did not help, but it was impressive, nonetheless.  There were huge construction projects along the way, as we neared the actual city of Ha Long proper.  Most were in various stages of construction, but none were active.  We also saw an immense field full of earth movers, all parked side-by-side.  There had to be at least 500, and in neighboring fields were an equal – if not greater – number of dump trucks to move dirt.  We were told that these projects were all halted during Covid.  We’d seen a few similar resort complexes back in Da Nang, but NOTHING near the scale of Ha Long.  The city was, also, quite empty, with very little traffic.  We drove around the bay, past many high-rise buildings, and then back up along a seaside promenade, also dotted with fancy-looking hotels and condominium complexes.  What we did not realize until later was that they were almost all empty.  I’ll write more about that later.

Our hotel was beautiful and all of us received rooms with oceanviews and huge expansive balconies.  We appeared, however, to be the only guests.  Our room was wonderful, despite the now-expected glass wall between the bedroom and bathroom.  K rested a bit while I went to use the gym.  I was trying to stay on some semblance of exercise routine, and I was feeling well enough to try.  I followed the signs to the gym and spa, only to find them shuttered and padlocked.  I went down to the lobby – which was now deserted – to inquire about options, and I was told there was no schedule as to when the gym might reopen.  In hindsight, I wonder if it had every been open.

In looking around from our balcony, we could see that the streets were all but empty and the lack of traffic was surreal after every other place we’d been.  Dinner was included, and at the hotel this night.  Tony said that this was due to the “lack of recommended restaurants within walking distance of the hotel.”  In looking around, we could see NO restaurants around.  Just lots of very impressive looking, but empty buildings.

Our Room, and View, in Ha Long

Almost All of These Buildings Are Empty

This Was a First for Me

The restaurant was lovely and comprised the entire top floor (26th) of the hotel.  In addition to our group, there was a tour group for Japan.  They were the only other guests we saw during this admittedly short one-night stay.  After eating, another couple and us went out onto the terrace.  Now that it was dark, it was far more evident that the sparking new buildings were all empty.  There were lit hotel signs up and down the road, but the buildings themselves were completely dark.  As Tony was painting a different picture, I did some digging and Ha Long city is a perfect example of poor urban planning.  The government poured millions upon millions of dollars into these huge projects, all in hopes of attracting more tourists, as well as rich Asians to buy seaside condos.  While Covid may have played a role, it was more the result of too-ambitious planning.  I do wonder what will happen over time, as these new but unused and empty buildings will surely begin to decay in the moist sea air.  It is actually quite depressing.

From our balcony, we could see (AND HEAR) a huge outdoor disco on the seaside.  They had laser lights going and the music was extremely loud, even though we were at least a half mile away.  We were told that lights and noise went late into the night, but we used our sound machine, which drowned that all out. I suspect, however, that the disco was empty, and that the lights and music are merely to give the impression of prosperity.  I can -- however creepy the empty hotel was – attest that they had the most comfortable mattress on which I’ve ever slept. It was larger than a king bed, too, but we both LOVED the mattress and bedding.   

Huge Disco Viewable (and Hearable) From All Around (Likely Empty)