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Part 1 ■Anyway, we arrived at the empty Noi Bai Airport in Hanoi■

My Air France plane landed at an empty Hanoi Noi Bai airport. I've landed at airports in a lot of different countries, but it's completely different from the familiar international airports where each airline company insists on its own colorful aircraft. The Air France plane that I had boarded returned to Bangkok as soon as it was packed with new passengers. It was as if he was asking if he could stay in a place like this for even a minute longer...
"I was uncomfortable on the Air France plane." The seats around me were full of white old men and women. Wine is distributed to all of them, but there is not a single water on my table. Of course I went to the bathroom. But now I'm back in my seat, waiting for the stewardess to ask me, "What would you like to drink?" Among the white old men and women, there's no way I'm conspicuous as a Chinchikurin Asian. Are you being ignored because you are a Chinchikku Asian?
"You never give me NOTHING!"
I picked one of the stewards who seemed to be a good person and protested, but the response was, "Because you weren't there...". Hey, you know, don't you? He wasn't there until a while ago, but now he's back in his seat. In France, not sitting down means not having a drink? I had to come across racism (racism) since Paris five years ago. i asked for water It was bitter water.
Anyway, Air France Flight 172, which I boarded, arrived at Hanoi Noi Bai Airport on time at 15:55. I had heard that it was 30 km from the airport to the city, and that an airport taxi would cost $20. In fact, this was the beginning of the bad luck in the first place.

to be continued

2nd ■ It was Hanoi that was left ripped off ■

For some reason, the $10 taxi has an assistant in addition to the driver. The name of the taxi company is Noi Bai Transport Cooperative. If you look around, there are no other taxis. I got on board with a feeling that I could not understand. The assistant could speak some English, so he kindly talked to me about where I came from and how many people there were. It was the first time for me to visit Vietnam, and I was treated very well.
"I was going to find an inn on the shores of Hoan Kim Lake." I wanted to enjoy a nice view from the hotel window. When I told him about it, he told me that there was a good hotel a few minutes away from Hoan Kim Lake. The name of the hotel I was taken to was Prince Hotel. It was then that I realized for the first time that my assistant was a spy at the Prince Hotel. If you take me with you, you will surely receive a commission. 30 minutes walk to Hoan Kim lake. No elevator. I was guided to a room on the third floor. When I said I didn't want to go upstairs like this, I was told that the second floor was full of reservations. If I told him that I would go to a hotel by Hoan Kim Lake, he would give me $25 for $20. Still, when I said I didn't want to stay on the 3rd floor, they let me go to a room on the 2nd floor, which was supposed to be fully booked. It's dim and not very $20 stuff. But when I stepped out onto the balcony, I changed my mind. In the traffic below, I could see the comings and goings of people and the state of busy shops. I thought this was a photo opportunity. It was getting dark and I decided to settle down at this hotel.
The room has a shower with hot water only at the beginning. The W bed has a dingy cover. The hotel in Ho Chi Minh City that I stayed at later was even nicer for $20, had a bathtub, hot water to use as much as you wanted, and even included breakfast.
The woman at the front desk is nervous and in a bad mood. I thought he didn't like the fact that I gave him $5 off. That's because their commission will be reduced. She even paid for the train to Hue. The ticket she arranged was $60. A young Argentina with two people in the same compartment said he bought it for $40, and a Filipino man said he bought it for $35. I asked for it because it was a no commission, but what happened?

The name of the assistant who brought me to this hotel is Koan, and he says he lives on the 3rd floor of the Prince Hotel, but I'm not sure.
"The next morning, when I went to the front desk, Coan was in the lobby." He invited me to go out for tea, so I sat on the back of his bike. At the coffee shop, we drank Vietnamese-style coffee (espresso with plenty of condensed milk) and took lots of pictures. When it came time to pay the bill, I asked him to change it, but he looked dumbfounded. He looked dumbfounded and paid 25,000 dong (1.8$) for me. When he took me to the Prince Hotel, he told me that he was going to the airport on business. I'm sure they'll be looking for victims like me again. And then, I handed over my guidance to someone like my brother. The ship I boarded, no, it was a motorbike. I'm Shimeta! I thought. However, the wholesaler didn't drop it. to be continued

The 3rd ■ It was a night in Hanoi that kept getting ripped off ■

"In this way, I'm successfully caught in the rip-off strategy." Coan must have said something to someone like a cousin. This guy is stubborn, so please take care of yourself, and take my part as well.
First, a motorbike drive along Hoan Kim Lake. I used to jump on the back of his bike. And I took pictures. He even paid for his drinks wherever he went. After sightseeing, he took me to a discotheque. As it was a Sunday, the disco was full of young and old, dancing to techno music. What particularly caught my eye was the figure of a 70-year-old man dancing while twisting his body. As expected of the Vietnamese, they only won the United States in the Vietnam War. I was impressed that even an old man was powerful.
When she got tired of dancing, she said let's go to karaoke next time. I don't like karaoke, but curiosity got the better of me at the time. The disco was on the second floor, but the karaoke bar was on the first floor of the same building, in a dark place. Just as I was thinking that I had been guided to a somewhat dubious place, five women came and asked me to choose which one I liked. I was puzzled, but I chose a 22-year-old woman with a country-like busty body. He chose a suspicious woman of about 25 years old. When we ordered our beers and her drinks, she and him took turns singing. I'm not very good at karaoke. I listened while drinking Hanoi beer.
"I think it was about an hour or so during that time." When it came time to pay, I was charged a whopping $40. beer was $1.50 at the jazz club i went to last night. It's too expensive no matter how you look at it. When I protested to the man who looked like a manager to show me the details, he stubbornly refused to listen. It was a yakuza-style strong face, and I reluctantly decided to pay for it. I left the store angrily. However, I waited and waited, but he never came out of the store. Wondering what happened, I went back to the karaoke bar and found him and the tough-looking manager having a standing conversation. It seems that when I said "You are taking a commission?" Surprised, he looked back at me.
"I decided to break up with him there." Then, for some reason, he ended up having dinner with two women who sat with him at a karaoke bar. We were taken to an American-style restaurant, where the two women ate and drank, complaining in broken English that he was a bad guy and wouldn't give us anything. Before long, one of them left, and the other one disappeared. This time I was charged 400,000 dong ($28). I asked the manager to show me the statement, and after a while he brought me a statement with the total amounting to VND165,000 ($11.4). Still pretty ripped off. When I protested, those two women were bad guys and they pretended that I had nothing to do with them. I guess I was supposed to pay the commission later.
The cost of disco, karaoke, food and drink all add up to about $60, so I decided to give up on it, thinking it was just tuition. When I got back to the hotel and opened my waist bag, I was startled. Before leaving Japan, the wad of 50 $10 bills I exchanged at the bank was ridiculously thin. I counted it and it was about $200 less. When and where was it done? I kept my waist bag close to my waist. Did you get hit while riding on the back of a motorcycle? Did you get hit while dancing at the disco? I have no idea. damn it! Sorry but no proof. The culprit cannot be identified.
"However, it's a splendid skill." I'm rather impressed. Although the tuition fee was high, it didn't take my life. The journey has only just begun. Give up gracefully and continue your journey. It's a good warning not to trust people easily. Let's get out of town tomorrow with a firm heart.・・・・

to be continued

Part 4 ■ Hanoi Jazz Club, and Encounter with Kwan Boy ■

I left the hotel alone today because I had a bad experience yesterday. Then I met a boy selling postcards again. Actually, I met this boy for the first time the day before yesterday, and we spent the night together.
The day before yesterday, I was taking a walk on the banks of Hoan Kim Lake to enjoy my first night in Hanoi. I didn't force myself to sell the postcards, but at first I drove them away. When I entered the lakeside beer restaurant, it seemed as if he had given up on me, as expected. But when I left the restaurant, he arrived again. I was thinking of going to a jazz club in Hanoi, but the boy still keeps coming. He tried his best to talk to me in broken English, so as we talked about various things, we gradually got along. I decided to go into the store with him, thinking that I should treat him to something to eat.
The name of this postcard seller is Kwan, and he is 16 years old. Apparently, it was the first time for him to hear a live jazz performance, and at first he stared blankly at the live performance. After a while, I began to stare at the live with a rapt attention, perhaps because I gradually came to like it. The scene brought back the passion I had when I first heard it in a New York jazz club. My old self and the figure of him in front of me overlapped, and I was filled with a sweet and nostalgic feeling. That thin, clear, hot gaze is a moving thing. Just a shutter chance! That's what I thought, but I don't have my camera with me at such times... That's what photo opportunities are all about.
"I had such a fun time with boy Kwan." The surroundings are looking at us suspiciously, but I don't care about such gazes at all. "Take the A train", "My one and only love", "Black Orpheus"... A female vocalist joined in the middle and sang "The Girl from Ipanema", "Lullaby of bird-land", etc. To be honest, it's not a very good vocal. But it had a certain feel to it, unlike the mere imitation that is common in Japanese vocals. The band consists of drums, 4 beats, but for some reason there is no electric bass (no wood bass or no player), piano, tenor saxophone, alto saxophone. The people playing the saxophone are the Min family, who run this jazz club. Everyone except Ming is young. Looking back on it now, the performance doesn't leave much of an impression on me, but at the time I listened to it and thought it was okay.
This jazz club has no name. The sign says "JAZZ CLUB by QUYEN VON MINH". "CAU LAC BO NHAC JAZZ" is also written on the business card I received. It may be that there is only one jazz club in Hanoi, but it is a jazz club named "Jazz Club".
Mr. Min was a gentle person, always smiling from start to finish, and treated customers as a good owner, a good saxophonist, and a good host. On the other hand, my son is constantly taking solos as if to say, “How is it? He seemed to be a bit of a tengu. They may be looking forward to the future of the Hanoi jazz world. It seems that he will study abroad at Berkeley Music College in the United States as a scholarship student. In Japan today, both cats and scoops are Barclays, but I want them to do their best.
"There are quite a few Japanese tourists in the store." Also, Japanese women who teach Japanese in Vietnam, who do not speak Vietnamese very well and are not good at English, are making a lot of noise. There is also a strange young Japanese guitarist playing Japanese folk songs on the fly. They seem to misunderstand karaoke, or rather, Plus One Orchestra. Even so, Ms. Min did not show an unpleasant face, perhaps because she was a sales person, and she was accompaniment. He also teaches Japanese. Others were crowded with white customers.
A picture of former US President Bill Clinton playing the saxophone hangs on the wall. A former enemy president. What a strange sight. I asked Min. Didn't the people of Hanoi criticize the American music that bombed North Korea, sprayed defoliants, and massacred My My Village? According to Min-san, at first there were people like that, but gradually they came to understand (Is it true?). Jazz is music. It's not just for America. Something more international...
That's right. It's the same in Japan. After Japan's defeat in the war, he listened to GHQ broadcasts and performed at US military camps, fostering Japanese jazz. However, there should be no GHQ or camp in Hanoi...
The four men and two women sitting at the next table were amazing. I kept a bottle of Gordon's gin, sipped it straight, on the rocks. One of them burst into the stage and started playing baritone saxophone. After about an hour, it was blowing so hard that it was too obtrusive. Even if the sound was so-so, in the end I was horrified at how they stuck their necks in everything and blew it up.
When I finally returned to the audience, I was asked to shake hands, so I said "You play good" and gave me a business card. First of all, it says "musician", then "vice director" of the Hanoi Opera House, and "ministry of culture information of Vietnam". Some sort of official from the Ministry of Culture of Vietnam. One person was convinced that Min-san was playing without complaining because he was a great government official. He's not the Phantom of the Opera, he's an official of the Opera.
"The next day, I went to the Opera House as a tourist." The building is splendid and compares favorably with the Paris Opera House. It was a Sunday, so I couldn't go inside, but there was a movie or TV shoot outside. The guy at the rip-off Prince Hotel says that he is a famous celebrity in Hanoi. The people around me were taking pictures of the talents in bridal costumes and morning dresses, so I jumped on the bandwagon. It was a Sunday, so I didn't get to meet the official at the Opera House.
When I went outside after the live performance that day, it was completely dark and the scenery was completely different from the daytime. I lost track of where my hotel was. Kwan boy led me to the hotel. I don't know if I could have made it to the hotel alone... We promised to meet again the next day, but Kwan didn't show up the next day. If I had met him again, I wouldn't have fallen for that rip-off strategy.

to be continued

5th ■ Cafe 39 ■

"Today is the day we leave Hanoi and head to Hue." When I woke up in the morning and went outside, I saw that Kwan boy there. I knew that he wouldn't be fooled, and that it would be easier for me to find a bank with him, so we rode a cyclo that only adults could ride alone and headed out into the city together. However, he muttered in his heart that he could not be underestimated even though he was a child, and that he would not repeat the same mistake. In this way, the strange trip of the two, who are like friends like parent and child, will continue.
A person playing shogi on the roadside, a person smoking a hookah from a long bamboo pipe, a person selling vegetables on the street, an open-faced perm man... I wondered what it was because the signboard said MAGIC STONE. He was a stone carver. I took a lot of pictures of the scenery of the city. Here, there and everywhere……                                                                            Kwan said he was thirsty, so I decided to invite him out for tea. The streets are full of cafes. Even though all the cafes are empty, white tourists are occupying them as if they own them. I decided on "Cafe 39" among the many cafes. For some reason, there were no foreigners or tourists, only Vietnamese customers. As if being sucked into something, I entered the cafe.
Inside the store, there are small speakers on the left and right, and the Beatles are playing loudly. There was a staircase leading to the second floor in the back, and it looked like a jazz cafe that used to be in Ochanomizu. All of the customers are young, and they are all chatting in their own way, and they don't seem to care about us. The open terrace outside was full, so I had no choice but to sit in the back.                                                         、Kwan ordered a cola, and for a while they clung to their chairs. Gradually I calmed down and began to notice things around me. When I looked, I saw a good-looking, fair-skinned, somewhat Japanese-looking young man sitting next to me on the left, drinking coffee while leaning against the wall. I felt a sense of familiarity and tried to talk to him. His name is Nguyen Mong Kwan (same name as Kwan boy!), a 28-year-old single man who works at the post office, graduated from a university's engineering department, and earns $150 a month. I have a computer at home and a bike. In Vietnam, it can be said that they belong to the upper middle class or the elite. When Yabukarabo asked me what I thought of Vietnam, I was at a loss for an answer. There are a lot of bad guys, and they keep getting ripped off. I wasn't sure if I understood what I said, but I was relieved when he smiled and nodded. Until then, I hadn't met a good guy, so the silly conversation without profit and loss made me feel relieved. It's been a long time since I felt comfortable.
"He ordered a cigarette for me to smoke with a water pipe." It's the one the men were smoking on the street earlier. In fact, he says that he is not good at water pipe tobacco. Despite this, he showed me how to actually smoke and taught me how to smoke. However, I was choked up wonderfully. At the bottom of the bamboo tube filled with water, there is an opening for putting in shredded tobacco. I tried it, but it was so tight that I felt like he was choking and it was hard to breathe. He and I looked at each other and laughed. I laughed a lot. I felt like I hadn't laughed in a long time. He gave me a really good time. On top of that, he said he would even treat me to coffee, so I was a bit embarrassed, so I firmly declined, saying that I would pay for it myself, but he even paid for boy Kwan. I was always being harassed, so I was thrilled to have a Vietnamese treat me for the first time. We exchanged addresses, took pictures, shook hands and parted. I feel great. I thought that everywhere there are good guys and bad guys. I happened to be unlucky and ended up being ripped off. There must be good things waiting for you on your next trip. I had a hunch about that.

to be continued

Episode 6 ■I don't have a ticket to Hue (Farewell to Kwan Boy)■

I'm supposed to leave for Hue at 9 o'clock tonight, but I still don't have a ticket. That nervous woman at the front desk at the Prince Hotel said she would hand over the ticket at eight o'clock. The payment was made yesterday. I still have my passport. Did you really arrange the ticket? What should I do if I say I don't remember being asked to do that? I suddenly became uneasy and asked Kwan boy.
I said, "If the woman at the front desk doesn't give you a ticket, could you call the policeman?" I got the answer. It seems that he is crossing a dangerous bridge for his life. It is very different from 16 years old in Japan. The recent increase in Japan's "hikikomori" is unthinkable in the third world. It is precisely because we are fed, lived in, and clothed that we become hikikomori. Boy Kwan couldn't be a hikikomori.
"I gave up on calling the police." For the time being, I decided to kill time somewhere until 8 o'clock. I went into a diner with Kwan Boy. It was full of Vietnamese people. I was a little frightened when I was seated next to an elderly drunkard with a beard and a hunting cap. He's happily drinking something out of a red plastic cup. He recommended me to drink it too, so I tried it. It was a cloudy white sake like doburoku, and it was very strong. I had to catch the train at 9 o'clock, so I decided to just taste it. I thought I'd buy the old man a drink, but when I ordered it, the shopkeeper seemed to tell me not to drink any more. I can't help it, so I pretended to drink and ordered a drink. When I handed the cup to the old man, he looked happy.
The policemen also come to eat on their behalf. The police seemed to serve a lot of side dishes as a service, one or two. Every time the policemen came in, the boy would peer at them nervously.
Large plates of food are lined up on the counter. I ordered about 5-6 dishes that I liked. Kwan boy hadn't eaten anything since morning, he didn't care about the exchange between me and the drunken man at all, and he devoured it. The plate was empty in no time. He was hesitant to leave a small portion for me, but I still wanted to drink Hanoi beer, so I offered him that portion as well.
A simmered dish similar to Japanese deep-fried tofu was delicious. It tastes like home. It's only been a week since I left Japan and it was enough to make me feel homesick. It was so good.
I drank two glasses of beer, boy Kwan refilled the rice, the two of us ended up eating about 10 dishes, and I bought a drink for my drunken man, and the bill was only 20,000 dong ($1.4). This is the legitimate norm in Hanoi. It was a surprise to me who had been ripped off.
"It's finally time to say goodbye to Kwan boy." Finally, we went to a cafe and exchanged addresses with each other. Then he asked me to write something about how he met me. At first he seemed puzzled, but then he began to write something. I was writing with the same look as when I was in that jazz club. Her eyes were serious, yet innocent and beautiful.
"I wanted to thank him for spending the day with me." Giving him money wasn't really my intention, but I couldn't find any other way to express my feelings for him, so I decided to give him 50,000 dong. This would be more than his three days worth of earnings. It would be a problem if we give away too much, lose taste, and become the target of Japanese people. He looked very happy and accepted it. Shortly after, he said, "Buy me a postcard." From the Japanese point of view, why should I buy a postcard even though I gave money, but since it was 15,000 dong, I felt like I could buy it. I later found out that the postcards I bought in Hue were half the price of his postcards.
"It's nearly eight o'clock." I have to go back to the Prince Hotel to pick up my ticket, my passport, and my luggage. When I returned to the hotel with Kwan boy, Koan and his brother who had brought me from the airport were sitting on the road in front of the hotel and talking about something. When I greeted him with a casual face, Koan approached and whispered into my ear. "Watch out for that boy, he's a bad guy!" ! ?
I received my ticket and passport safely from the woman at the front desk. At a table next to the front desk, a group of elderly Dutch people were having a party with about 10 bottles of Heineken beer. I wanted to say, ``The guys in this hotel are all bad guys, so be careful'', but I hesitated because they were talking so loudly and happily. The Koans must be waiting for the ducks to come again. I've been to Holland before and was taken care of, so I thought I'd given them some advice, but I wonder if they understood...
Koan's younger brother offered to take him to the station, but I politely declined, saying that I would go with boy Kwan. In my heart, I thought I would never ride your bike again. I asked the nervous woman at the front desk to call me a taxi, and left the Hanoi Prince Hotel with Kwan. I felt a little triumphant.
"Well, tomorrow we'll head to Hue, the site of a fierce battle in the Vietnam War." Let's leave the unpleasant things so far at the Hanoi Prince Hotel.
When I arrived at Hanoi Station, the train had already arrived, so I hurried to board. He and Kwan hugged each other like brothers and regretted parting. Somehow my chest felt hot and my tear glands loosened. When I looked into his eyes, regardless of my thoughts, he was clear.
Farewell Hanoi, thank you, the people of Hanoi, Kwan boy, Min-san from the jazz club, the lady selling manju, Ms. Kwan from the post office...

to be continued

 The 7th ■ On the train to Hue (Hanoi-Saigon Unified Railway) ■

A small man was sitting in the train that I was drawn to, and started talking to me. I thought I was just a passenger, but he asked me where I was going to stay in Hue. No obligation. It is said that we will send you by car from Hue station to the hotel. If you don't like it, you don't have to pay for the transport... It's not that I forgot the heat because I was too thirsty, but I ended up going to the hotel recommended by this man again...
Putting that aside, I was excited about my first sleeper train in Vietnam. In the same compartment were two Argentinas (a slim, seductive cutie and a fat bust) and a middle-aged Filipino.
"The Filipino is a businessman who works as a travel agent." He was invited by a Vietnamese travel agent to visit a hotel in Hue. It's visible to the strange traveler, but very invisible to the businessman.
The two Argentina said they had no intention of going to Hue. I wanted to say that it would be a waste not to go to the ancient city of Hue, which is designated as a World Heritage Site, even though I am sightseeing in Vietnam, but Filipinos are actively soliciting guest houses in Hue. So there was no room for me to interrupt. "Is this a guest house swindler, or a human trafficker... I'm suspicious of this Filipino. Instinctively, I kept my camera and waist bag close at hand and put my backpack under the seat.
The compartment I'm in now is the tallest super bed, and it's supposed to come with meals, but it comes with a small bottle of water, two snacks, and a paper towel in a plastic bag. I was just there. Even so, I was looking forward to the meal, thinking that it would be brought to me soon. I waited and lived, but nothing came out. I'm in the lower bed and the Filipino is in the upper bed. The train is equipped with an air conditioner, soft sleeper beds, and a sink and a faucet by the window. It's too hot to sleep because the compartment is closed. The Filipinos who have been sleeping hard until now turn on and off the fan above, so it's noisy again and I can't sleep. I was hungry, so I went to the car 7 or 8 behind me to see if there was a dining car, but there was nothing there. Fat Argentina, who had gone looking for the dining car after all, came back mumbling. I couldn't sleep all night because of it. My plan to fall into a peaceful sleep while looking at the slim and cute Argentina's sleeping face was broken.
The night sky seen from the train window was wonderful. The starry sky seemed to fall at any moment. It's just diamond dust. Lively, stars, stars, stars...  I was completely fascinated by the stars. Speaking of stars, from the car on the way to Saigon, I saw the Southern Cross that I saw in Africa long ago. Why was the Southern Cross, which should only be visible in the Southern Hemisphere, visible in the Northern Hemisphere? Dream Kamaboro...
"The sky gradually started to lighten, and the sunrise was wonderful." Coconut groves, fields, and idyllic, peaceful rural landscapes are not much different from those seen from a train window in Thailand. People working in the fields while it was still dark, people riding bicycles, people preparing breakfast, I thought that the idyllic scenery of farming villages was common in Indochina. I remember fondly that Japan used to have peaceful and gentle rural scenery like Indochina. And I felt sad that it had become a thing of the distant past.
Looking at the scenery of Vietnam like this, I can't believe that there was once a war here. A peaceful landscape spreads out as if nothing had happened. After all, war and political violence cannot change people and their lives. Of course, the human sacrifice is great. An immeasurable amount of precious lives were lost, and even now there are people who suffer from the aftereffects of defoliants. How many Americans know that?
While thinking about this and that, I didn't even think about it, and the train arrived safely at Hue Station at 3:30 pm. It seems that the two Argentinas ended up getting off at Hue and went to a guest house recommended by a Filipino. It doesn't matter to me, but I'm a little concerned. I hope there's nothing wrong with it...
At the station, a second guide who had been contacted by a tout from Hanoi came to pick us up in a minibus. I got on the bus with skepticism because of the lessons I learned from the Hanoi Prince Hotel. When we arrived at the hotel, we were shown various rooms. All rooms were better than the Hanoi Prince Hotel, and I got $15 off the room rate. It's clean and has a bathtub, and you can see the whole city of Hue with a nice view. In front of the hotel, there is a Japanese guest house "Binjuon Hotel". However, the old man who picked us up was a gentle and nice person, but for some reason the woman at the front desk was also nervous.
"It was getting dark." I hurried to take a bath and decided to go to the World Heritage Incho Royal Palace.

to be continued

Part 8: The royal palace of the Hue Imperial Court was a field

I had planned to take a leisurely cyclo ride to the Hue Palace, but it was getting dark, so I decided to go by motorcycle. I paid the entrance fee of $5 and went inside, but there was nothing but a splendid three-story gate. It was bombed during the Vietnam War and almost nothing remains. It's just a 10-hectare field surrounded by a wall that goes on and on. Most of the tourists were tour groups, mostly old people, and I didn't see any young people. I was the only one hanging around by myself.
As soon as I entered the gate, a student-like man with a cropped horn spoke to me in fluent Japanese. When I was 25 or 26 years old, I had a white shirt, black pants, and a cool way of speaking that didn't seem to put my heart into it. A self-proclaimed Hue University student. Just when I thought I was going to read the guide for the royal palace, I thought that I had finished talking, and said, "Okay, so this is it," and went somewhere. What was that just now...  If I was a young girl, or if I looked more like a rich person, I'm sure she'd be the one to guide me all the time. When I went upstairs, he appeared again. After explaining the explanation of the mural, he disappeared somewhere, saying, "Okay, here it is."
"I thought I was going to rip you off, so I approached you, but did you realize that I wouldn't be a dupe?" On the one hand, I felt relieved, but on the other hand, I felt strangely lonely, wondering if I was unattractive.
"Even so, there's not much to see." There was a gallery that looked like a small classroom, so I went inside. It is said that it is the work of contemporary Vietnamese painters and sells from about 300 dollars. I couldn't afford to buy the paintings, so with permission I captured them on camera. There are many avant-garde works with dark colors.
The third floor was cramped, and there was only a large drum on it. However, from there, you can see the city of Hue, and the view was the best.
After walking for a while, there was another postcard seller. However, this time it's a young woman who seems a bit gloomy. He asked if I could buy one for $1 a bag. It contains about 7 pieces. When I was still hesitant, he asked me how about two bags of one dollar, so I decided to buy it as a souvenir since the royal palace was empty. A child was playing with a soccer ball beside a crumbling fence. I finally found a stall that sells Coke. Two young women tend the store. When I bought a cola and talked to her, she said that they are sisters, the older sister is a college student and the younger sister is a high school student. He was the first cheerful Vietnamese I met in the royal palace. We talked rambling about each other, and when we parted, I was allowed to take a picture. They were refreshing sisters who worked hard and attended school. I emailed them and parted.
On the way, there was a Vietnamese who was guiding a group of French people in French. The elderly Frenchman, speaking fluent French, listened with occasional nods. I also studied French a long time ago, but in the end I couldn't speak it. Slender, the Vietnamese was intelligent and looked very muscular.
It was getting dark after sunset, so I went outside the royal palace. Cyclo's touts came. I was frustrated in the royal palace, so I took pictures with the cyclo dads, and I tried driving the cyclo with my dad on the cyclo, so we played around for a while. Then, I decided to pick the man who seemed to be the nicest, less likely to fight than me, and have him take me somewhere where I could drink beer.
Bridal gowns are displayed in show windows all over Hue. Everywhere is a small dressmaker shop of about 3 tsubo. For poor Vietnamese girls, wearing a bridal gown is a kind of status symbol and a dream.
At one point, I saw people dressed in white and wearing white headbands. I thought the guru was giving a speech at a meeting of a new religion, but it turned out to be a funeral.
All the shops are isolated in the middle of the fields, one by one. When I ordered beer at a certain store, suddenly four bottles were lined up on the table. And it's not cold. You drink it with ice. Two wet towels and four cigarettes on a plate. If you get your hands on both, you'll get your money. I decided to return two bottles of beer. I searched everywhere for cold beer, but all the shops were the same. First of all, there is no refrigerator.
"We finally arrived at a restaurant-style bar." It is a shop that is quite popular with Vietnamese people. A husband and wife run the store. The beautiful wife is in charge of cooking, and the amiable old man is the waiter. Try the homemade red wine. It tasted so-so. Cyclo's father said, "It's my treat," and ordered me a decanter wine. But I was the one who paid for it in the end. The food was Chinese style Vietnamese food and was pretty good. Beer was cold too. The shop is a little dark, but I was able to feel good because the old man had a good feeling.
The name of the cyclo driver is Levan Horn. He became a driver four years ago, and until then he was working at a factory. I am 35 years old and have two children. When he quit the factory, his wife ran away with him. Maybe it's the sunburn, or maybe it's the hard work, but I look pretty old. I thought you were older than me.
"I'm going to borrow a motorcycle tomorrow, so I'll show you around on it." I told him I didn't need it because I was planning to leave for Nha Trang tomorrow, but he didn't listen to me. There are other motorbike taxis in front of the hotel, so they won't go to the hotel, but they insisted that they would be waiting at the exit of the street at 9 in the morning. I've never heard that today's cyclo driver will be tomorrow's motorbike taxi driver. I'm too enthusiastic, so I reluctantly accepted it on the condition that it's only in the morning.
After paying the bill, Raevan Horn invited me to have some Vietnamese coffee. On the way, we crossed a bridge famous for Kyoichi Sawada's photograph. It was blown up in the Vietnam War, and now the bridge has been rebuilt, and I was very moved. I've come to a fairly remote place, so I asked Horn if he was okay, and he said it was almost there. Finally, I arrived at a cafe in a place that looked like a garden of a person's house. It was an open terrace, and there was a 14-inch TV in the dark place, and MTV Vietnam's version of popular songs was playing. It is a full-fledged demitasse coffee brewed in an alcohol lamp, and it is a strong and sweet coffee that is drunk with plenty of condensed milk.
"Horn is talking all the time while he's drunk." I nodded my head. He said he had been to Hanoi before and often ate dog food. Hue also has a place that feeds dogs.
"He asked me how about a woman this time." It took about 30 minutes and I was taken to another private house. After being kept waiting for a while, an old lady-like woman with her face painted white came. Grabbed my straddle and asked me to drink beer. Three bottles of Heineken were brought. The house is dimly lit and has the appearance of being haunted. I got creepy and ran out of there. Horn tried to take me somewhere else, saying there was another woman better. I told him in a very strong tone that the evening tour of Hue was over and that I would like to return to the hotel early tomorrow morning. Well then, I repeated the promise that I would pick you up at 9 o'clock in the morning on a motorcycle, and finally I was released. I didn't think he was that bad.
"I finally came back to the Thai Binh Hotel where I was staying." Hotel Binh Juon, a Japanese-only hotel in front of the Thai Binh Hotel, is extremely noisy. Curious, I went there and found that a young man was having a drinking party. I went inside as if I was being sucked in, and I also joined the circle of drunkenness. Some of the young people are students of Tokyo University and Kyoto University. There are also female students. An old man who has been traveling for many years recommended Vietnamese shochu. Burned my tongue when I drank it. I had to leave Hue tomorrow, so I left it to the extent of licking it. Hue is also close to Lao Pao, the border of Laos, and is frequented by travelers from the north and south of Laos and Vietnam. I also talked about Laos, which I traveled to last year, and exchanged information about Vietnam.
Hotel Binh Juon is fully booked with all Japanese guests, and the owner, Huang, looks like a 25-year-old playboy. A seemingly cute female college student was taken by Huang to eat dog food. Hearing that, the woman suddenly looked ugly. "KIMIKO'S HOUSE" is written on the business card of Hotel Binjuon. It seems that KIMIKO was Huang's girlfriend, but now she has fled back to Japan. Huang has traveled back and forth between Japan and Vietnam and can speak Japanese quite well. Even so, why do Japanese people want to crowd like this? It was a strange feeling that only here was not Vietnam. Such a me also gathered together and enjoyed the moment of the trip, but...
Strangely enough, most of the students here don't go to the royal palace. However, I was disappointed when I went there, so I don't think it's worth paying $5.
"The time has passed 12:00." Huang's mother came over and seemed to tell her that it was time to break up. I'm also leaving tomorrow, so I decided to go back to my hotel. The Thai Binh Hotel where I stay has a rattle elevator, but I never saw it working. Is it just a decoration?
After 9:00 the next morning, when I passed through the alleyway of the hotel and came out onto a large street, Horn was waiting for me, transformed into a motorcycle driver. I gave up and got on his bike and decided to go have breakfast.
In front of the post office, I entered a rice flour ramen shop called Hue's specialty Bun Bo Hue. The store is quite large. I met a Japanese photographer who is working for JAL. While talking about various things, it turned out that he was a jazz fan and had learned the saxophone from Seiichi Nakamura (TS), who is familiar with After I left Hue, I suggested to Horn that I should take him around for me, but he had a rental bike and just left. Bun Bo Hue wasn't very tasty, probably because I'm used to Japanese ramen. I didn't even get used to the soup.
"Well, it's finally time to leave." I was planning to take the afternoon train to Nha Trang, but I couldn't get a ticket yesterday. I was thinking of either going directly to Hue Station and waiting for a cancellation, or jumping on the train and negotiating. I asked Horn to drive me to the hotel, and when I gave him a dollar as a thank you, he asked me for another dollar. I thought it was just a round trip between the store and the hotel after buying breakfast, but Horn was planning to make some money by taking me around on a borrowed motorbike, so I decided to happily pay him another dollar. .
I hurriedly packed my things and went to the Binjuon Hotel. This hotel has staff with connections to those who work at the station. I straddled his bike and headed for Hue station. I rushed to the ticket office, but the station staff still said that there were no tickets. The staff of the Binh Juong Hotel are trying to help each other, but it just doesn't work. I asked the station master, but it was useless.
"If this happens, I have no choice but to jump on the train." You have to buy an admission ticket to go through the ticket gate. I bought it for him and went inside. Then a female station attendant came and complained as if to ask me what I was doing here. I made the excuse that I was waiting for a friend who was coming on the next train, but I wondered if I could make it through... When the female station attendant left, the station manager from earlier came over and warned me again. It seems that everything has gone unnoticed, and Binjuon's staff also wants to get out of the way. I had no choice but to give up because I was afraid I would make his position worse. Ah, with this, will the dream of crossing Vietnam with the Hanoi-Saigon Unified Railway collapse?

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