Hanoi by Motorbike

We had timed our departure so that we would arrive into the city before nightfall so that we would not have to try to navigate Hanoi traffic in the dark, and found ourselves in a mass of increasingly growing traffic as we neared the city just as the sun began to set. Kevin had done wonderfully on his bike for his first time out, but I knew that he wasn't comfortable in the heavy traffic, being both a new rider and not yet accustomed to the madness that is traffic in Vietnam. I had plotted a more or less direct route from the southwest corner of the city to the Old Quarter where we would return our bikes and we had planned for Kevin to simply follow me in, meeting up at a central location if we were separated. Even though I knew Kevin was a bit shaky, I began to enjoy myself as we plowed headlong into Hanoi.

Besides the rain and a few crowded roadside stands with customers spilling out into the road, our ride back had been free of obstacles, but as we neared Hanoi, much like in a video game, the closer we got to our goal, the harder the journey became. The road became over-run with motorbikes, heeding no rules of the road save a grudging stop at each traffic light. The next obstacle came in the form of streams of traffic turning left into oncoming traffic in places where there were no lights, with only the mass of bodies in each direction determining which side won out. Most times it was less an acquiesence from one side, but more a merging of individuals filling up the intersection weaving in and out around oncoming vehicles coming from every direction. Each intersection mastered evoked a feeling of great accomplishment and the anticipation of the next upcoming challenge. Then there were the buses, who insisted on riding in the far left lane even though they had to stop every few blocks to let passengers out on the right side of the road; so each time they pulled away from the curb they would honk and force all other vehicles out of their way, a few minutes later repeating the process in the opposite direction. The next level threw pedestrians at us, who simply walked through the madness with the expectation that all vehicles would avoid them, forcing sudden shifts to the left or right, keeping everyone on their toes.

Along with the increasing number of obstacles, I was soon faced with yet another challenge. Throughout the rainy day, Kevin and I had had our headlights on and were able to keep track of each other with relative ease as we were the only ones on the road with our lights on, but as the sunlight faded and night came upon us, suddenly Kevin's solo beam was lost in a sea of burnnig headlights and there was no way to distinguish him from the next guy in my rear view mirror. Each time I made a turn, I had to pull over to the side of the road to let Kevin catch up and to give him a warning about the next turn to come.

After just one wrong turn and a little orienting with the map and the street signs, we finally made our way into familiar territory and back into the Old Quarter, where I promptly lost Kevin, leaving him to find his way back to the bike shop on his own. Luckily we both found it within about five minutes of each other and turned in our helmets and keys, both happy to be on solid ground - Kevin happy to have made it back alive and me, thrilled with my new skills and my success at having mastered the chaos that is Hanoi by motorbike.