Since we were there for a few days, a group of us figured it would make sense to visit a tailor and get measured to allow enough time for the suit-making to be completed. We went to a tailor recommended to one of our group, where immaculately-dressed assistants led us upstairs past some seamstresses to pick what we wanted made.

Seamstresses - Hoi An, Vietnam

In fact, we were offered the Next catalogue for inspiration – indicating to me that they can copy anything whilst having a low estimation of their clients’ imagination.

I was expecting a bargain. In fact, I was expecting such a bargain that I anticipated being unable to resist buying perhaps a dozen shirts. I thought about going to the post office to send them back to the UK.

Once the prices were explained to me, I realised that wasn’t going to happen. They wanted $60 for a shirt. I got measured up for a shirt and changed my mind partway through – it just felt like far too much when you could get a delicious four-course meal for maybe $6 in the same town.

Being riddled with tailors, you get pestered in the street constantly. One of my favourite lines is “You make lucky day for me – be my first customer”. Quite often there’s a discount incentive attached, which is fine by me in principle, but usually puts me off because I’m a little contrary by nature and don’t like to be pressured. The chap who approached me in the street outside the overpriced tailor, took a different approach:

“I am the gay homosexual”, he said. OK – fine. “I am very good for making beautiful suit for you – come to my shop darling”. The tailor called himself Mr. Lai.

I liked him immediately and figured if it works for Gok Wan‘s clients, perhaps it can work for me, and went for a fitting. Pretty much immediately, I got pressure to buy a suit. Not only was it baking hot, but I didn’t want to carry around a suit. Mr Lai wasn’t fazed – offering to ship it for me via FedEx. I stuck to my guns and went for a long-sleeved white shirt for $17. The shirt would be ready in 6 hours, “Come back at 7pm, honey,” said Mr. Lai as he patted my bum. Yes – he really did.

Mr Lai measures me for shirt - Hoi An, Vietnam

I went wandering around the market and was approached by a woman there offering to make me a suit. I declined, but then realised that I needed my shorts fixed. I had torn them by stuffing my telephoto lens into the pocket at Kiyomizu. She took me through the market, down an alleyway and into another part of the market, where she had dozens of seamstresses on the go.

Tailor at her desk - Hoi An, Vietnam

After a short haggle, I was lent some shorts to wear, whilst one of the seamstresses fixed the shorts. People at whilst they worked – seeming to practically live there. Perhaps my shirt was being made here.

I popped into Mr. Lai’s shop after dinner. He was at the gym so I tried on the shirt and took it home. It was well made, with good seams and fitted well. I wasn’t thrilled with the collar – finding it a little too thin compared to a similar shirt in the West, but still OK. Nonetheless, I returned the next day for two more shirts – short sleeved this time, and with better collars.

Collecting my new shirt - Hoi An, Vietnam

I was happy with the finished goods that same evening. The collars were better and the fit and cloth were great. I nearly amputated my hands on the ceiling fan as I tried on the shirts (I am far too tall for Vietnam). Mr. Lai was back from the gym that evening when I went to collect and was all smiles until I still refused to buy a suit. At that point, I got the brush off, with a parting, “Give me a good review on Tripadvisor”.

I felt so used!

My advice on tailoring in Hoi An is as follows:

• Swot up a bit before you go – what makes a good cloth good? What kind of cut do you wear well? What corner cutting should you look out for?
• It helps to give a comprehensive briefing to the tailor when you get measured, so that you can be sure you get exactly what you want.
• It’s hard to go far wrong, but be circumspect about committing to a big buy - Shop around comprehensively.
• You often don’t get what you pay for – there are some allegedly mafia-controlled tailors that overcharge (I suspect the $60 a shirt tailor was a mafia place).
• Try going into the market, rather than to a shop – I got a good impression from the tailors there.
• Be aware that the person selling you the shirt might claim to be a tailor, but really he or she is just an english-speaking front person – try to cut out the middleman if you can. I didn’t – I don’t think Mr. Lai was terrible, but I suspect his strongest skill was his English, followed by his bench press.

The Road to Hoi An - Vietnam

Hoi An is a couple of hours drive south of Hue. It used to be a busy trading port in the 1st Century CE, becoming the centre of the spice trade from the 7th Century CE. It sits on the Thu Bon River, at the mouth of the South China Sea:

The Thu Bon River at noon - Hoi An, Vietnam

The town consists of a thriving market, as well as a well-preserved old town. It’s also well-known for having an abundance of tailors – close to a thousand. I spent some of my time visiting tailors – see this post.

The key highlights of Hoi An were the enormous river, the market and the surrounding countryside, as well as an opportunity to relax a little. We weren’t far from the sea, so we hired bicycles for $1 a day from the shop across the road (they also did laundry for $1 a kilo), and braved the insane traffic out of the city. I used to cycle a lot when I was at University. I’d pretty much cycle anywhere in London and through any traffic. I was apprehensive in the crazy Vietnamese traffic, but found that my slow, steady and predictable cycling carried me safely out of the city and into the rice paddies around the city.

Rice harvest at sunset - Hoi An, Vietnam

The farmers were harvesting their rice and renewing the soil by burning old fields. Vietnam is the world’s second biggest producer of rice, after Thailand.

Farmer Harvesting Rice - Hoi An, Vietnam

Cycling back into town, now that I’d overcome my fear, was a liberating feeling, and I got a little lost into the bargain, so  got a free cycle tour of the city, before heading to the tailor to collect my shirt dressed in my swimming trunks.

My body clock is still not quite right because I have been firing on all cylinders since my arrival in Tokyo, so I was able to get up very early to catch the sunrise in Hoi An. Despite leaving the hotel at 5am, I still only really caught the tail end of the sunrise, still that was enough:

Sunrise over the Thu Bon River - Hoi An, Vietnam

Hoi An’s market was setting up as early as you might expect for a market. One trader was burning incense:

Incense in the morning - Hoi An, Vietnam

A fisherman on a moped was delivering shrimp:

Moped Fishmonger - Vietnam

Some people were taking a break from work to play dominoes:

Domino players - Hoi An, Vietnam

But not for long – the market gets busy very fast in Hoi An:

The Busy Covered Market - Hoi An, Vietnam

Haggling is a must, and lots of fun. I wish it were more common in the UK. On top of that, there’s the street food, which is delicious (more on that later). You could quite easily get lost in the marketplace for the day, it’s a shopper’s and photographer’s paradise.

Loaded Moped - Vietnam`

I’ve observed many strange driving behaviours that make the melee around the Hanger Lane Gyratory System look like the inner workings of a Swiss watch, including but not limited to:

• Driving for 10 minutes signalling left
• Driving without using the mirrors
• Driving without having mirrors
• Driving whilst texting – on a moped
• Driving with the whole family of four – on a moped
• Sitting side-saddle on the pillion of a moped whilst texting with both hands
• Mopeds cutting up trucks
• Trucks cutting up mopeds
• The horn being used to politely warn: “If you don’t move out of the way, I’ll kill you”
• Crashing into other traffic and driving on
• Red traffic lights are a mere suggestion
• Driving on the right hand side of the road is just a convention
• Pedestrian crossings are where pedestrians cross but you don’t stop for them

Mopeds are the preferred form of transport here because cars are heavily taxed on import. Hanoi, for example, has a predominantly moped-based transport system, whilst Saigon (much richer) has more cars. If you see a car in Hanoi, it’s likely to be a Bentley or a high-end Mercedes belonging to a Party bigwig. In richer Saigon, it’s harder to know for sure.

Most interesting to me is how the moped has become more than just a commuter bike, but has also become:

An all-purpose transporter, this being one of many loads (look at the gallery at the bottom for more examples):

Loaded Moped - Vietnam

A Mobile Kiosk

Moped with a kiosk - Vietnam

Social venue and romantic spot:

Hanging out on mopeds - Vietnam

A Mobile Kitchen

Moped with a kitchen - Vietnam

A family transporter (I wasn’t able to get a good picture of the 5 I once saw on a moped – mother, father, 2 kids and a baby on a sling):

Moped Family - Vietnam

A way of delivering shrimp to market:

Moped Fishmonger - Vietnam

A means of transporting livestock:

Moped carrying Chickens and Ducks - Vietnam

Yes – Livestock!

Not to worry – we saw the ducks the next morning at the market:

Ducks for sale - Vietnam

Bicycles aren’t exempt from this loading proclivity either:

Loaded Bicycle - Vietnam

The “system”, crazy as it looks, works, and even when it doesn’t, I haven’t seen anything horrendous happen. I was in a cab, which pulled out in front of a moped rider, collided with him, knocking him aside. The moped righted itself and drove on after a few expletives were shared. The taxi driver wasn’t bothered in the slightest, and it prepared me for whatever traffic horrors would await me later in Thailand.

Imperial Tomb Complex - Hue

Nevertheless, some of the architecture has survived and been restored. Our first point of call was the Royal Tomb, where the ruling Nguyen Dynasty buried its dead.

Imperial Tomb Complex - Hue

The next port of call in Hue was the Thien Mu Pagoda – the tallest pagoda in Vietnam. The pagoda was built after the king at the time heard of a prophecy given by a “Celestial Lady” that a pagoda would be built there. He duly obliged.

Thien Mu Pagoda - Hue

Now, the pagoda shares space with a monastery, I saw monks walking around the grounds, cooking dinner in their kitchens and tending to chickens. I also caught sight of a ceremony in progress:

Kitten at Thien Mu Pagoda - Hue

We visited the Imperial City the following morning. The sun was ferocious and we all carried large bottles of water with us to keep hydrated. Much of the city has been rebuilt since the Battle of Hue, but it has been tastefully done, so it’s hard to tell what has been totally rebuilt and what has been restored.

Main Entrance - Imperial City - Hue

Within the city grounds was a harem (some of the kings had up to 500 wives and one king had 142 children), schools for the children (they were all educated separately, and various temples, this was one of them:

Temple: View from Ancestors Hall - Imperial City - Hue

The whole city was heavily defended and surrounded by a moat:

Moat - Imperial City - Hue

Our time in Hue was coming to a close, and the smaller town of Hoi An beckoned.

We had been advised to get some take-away dinner in Hanoi before getting on the train because there was no buffet car. Just for a change, I fancied spaghetti with tomato sauce, so with my pack on my back and my dinner in hand I walked into Hanoi train station.

Train station - Hanoi

After a short wait, the train was announced. It was starting at Hanoi, so there was plenty of time to find the right car and settle in. There were also kiosks selling snacks and drinks. Of course, we hopped off the train to stock up on beer for the journey ahead. There was a thunderstorm brewing overhead and ran was singing against the tin roof of the platform.

The train itself was what you would expect for a sleeper train. There was a very steep climb up and into the train. A narrow corridor took you to your room. There were eight of us in total, evenly divided between men and women – each cabin held four people.

Clockwise: Scott, Luwen, Greg, Me

The cabin was small, it was as wide as my arm-span, but well organised with a tea urn, sesame cakes, water and overnight stuff (including toothpaste and a comb). The beds were too short for me, so I couldn’t sleep on my back, but instead had to lie on my side. The issue with this was that the mattress was very thin so this became uncomfortable after a while.

With no announcement or fanfare of any kind, our journey began as the train pulled out of Hanoi. On time.

There were two chaps in our car who were in tatty uniforms. They took turns to sleep in a cupboard, listening to horrendous music, whilst the other made  bit of money on the side selling beer from a cooler filled with cold brown icy water. Aside from these two tasks, I never really saw what it was that these chaps, guards maybe, were there to do.

The train journey lasted 14 hours. Being able to doze on a hard bed was certainly preferable to sitting upright in a seat, but I didn’t feel as though I had had a good nights rest. Instead I woke at 5am and shared some good conversation with Scott until the train arrived unannounced at Hue a few hours later.

334 miles in 14 hours on this train was quite an experience and while the train wasn’t anywhere near as impressive as the Bullet Train, which covered a similar distance in 2.5 hours, the tickets were only £15!

Flower Seller - Hanoi

The first thing that strikes you about Hanoi is the traffic. There’s a lot of it, and it’s manic. The second thing that strikes you is that the traffic is predominantly motorcycles. Cars attract heavy import taxes (as much as 200%) and motorcycles do not. Most motorcycles are Japanese, or Thai or Chinese copies.

Vegetable Stall - Hanoi

The third thing that strikes you (metaphorically speaking, if you’re lucky) is just how fast the traffic is. It’s also unclear from mere observation which side of the road people drive on. Use of the horn is profligate, its meaning being more like “Coming through!”, than the UK’s “Watch out! We’re about to crash!”

Crossing the road can be tricky. Pedestrian crossings aren’t respected, and traffic lights serve merely to instil a little more caution in a driver as they cross a junction. You really do have to take your life into your hands as you cross the road; walk slowly and predictably, and just hope for the best:

We were relatively late back to Hanoi from Ha Long Bay, but the old town was busy and traders were busy offloading their wares.

As we walked through the city, we passed a park with some socialist sculpture.

The streets were pretty dirty and there was a lot of smoke and garbage scattered liberally around, but it didn’t stop us from grabbing a bite to eat from a doughnut vendor. Everyone was very welcoming and charming.

Roadworks in Hanoi

Some of the smoke was a result of people burning fake money in small braziers for luck or as a gift to the spirits of ancestors. Burning real money is bad luck. I’m not sure who decided that, but it’s probably the same guy who’s willing to sell you fake money to burn in return for real money.

Money to Burn

We stopped at a restaurant to grab a bite to eat. This part of the menu really jumped out. A packet of cigarettes costs about £1 on this menu.

£1 for a pack of fage

We had to be quick about our walking tour – we had a train to catch!

I’m sure they’re just as strong in China, however, the preferred material is bamboo, not steel. Whole skyscrapers are covered in the stuff, which hangs together with gaffa tape. From a distance, city blocks look like cocooned larvae waiting to hatch. More photos in the gallery below:

First impressions are always tinged by the fact that they’re had at an airport. I knew that the old days of landing in Kowloon between skyscrapers were over, but I was hoping for some near-misses with buildings. I did, however, get a lovely flyover of the bay area, teeming with fishing boats.

When you arrive at the airport, a fairly cheap train whisks you into town in 20 minutes. At Kowloon station, you have a choice of turning left for the taxi rank or turning right for the shuttle buses. For some reason, I took the right corridor and found out to my surprise that the hotel lays on free transfers to and from the station, as well as downtown.

The humidity was intense – I was told about 90% humidity. In fact, my camera fogged up completely when I took it out.

My first night was spent in Tsim Sha Tsui. This is certainly the place to go if you’re into shopping and labels. I’m not, so I found the place crowded and consumerist.

But the waterfront was another matter entirely. Looking south towards the island, I was rewarded with this view:

Victoria Harbour and a Junk - Hong Kong

The next day, I had a bit of a lie-in and headed across to the Island on the Star Ferry. Cheap at $2.50 (19p) one-way, and frequent, it took about 10 minutes to cross to Central on Hong Kong Island. I figured it would make sense to tackle the rest of the day on a full stomach, so I grabbed some dim sum at City Hall Maxim’s Palace. There were queues, and I had to take a ticket and wait, so that was a good sign. The queues moved pretty fast. It was a fun experience – to get your meal you could either ask a waiter to fetch it from the kitchen for you or you could stop one of the old ladies pushing a cart around the room:

Dim Sum at City Hall Maxim's Palace - Hong Kong

I waddled out of there into the sticky heat of Hong Kong Island and walked across to the Bank of China Tower. Tourists are allowed to take an express elevator to the 43rd floor, where the views across Victoria Harbour were impressive. The wind howled around the building and I’m pretty sure the floor was wobbling under me (either that or I have undiagnosed vertigo). The reason I’m not sharing the view from this tower is because I my next stop was for a far greater view.

The Peak Tram is probably the slowest rollercoaster I’ve ever been on. If you go up it, be sure to get the all-inclusive Sky Terrace ticket for about HK$20 more. The ride up took me through jungle at a near vertical angle – it was very strange looking out of the window and realising that you’re almost parallel with a tower block. The Sky Terrace (assuming you make it past the tourist tat stalls)  gives you this view over Hong Kong:

Panoramic View over Hong Kong from the Peak

It was on the Sky Terrace that I met Alicia and Michelle, who offered to take my photo for me. We ended up hanging out on Hong Kong Island for most of the rest of the day, just enjoying meandering around the streets of the island and soaking up the atmosphere.

A Street in Central - Hong Kong

We headed for Cat Street Market (and must have missed it because it was pretty empty) but I did buy a little red book of quotations from Mao at a small antique shop and Met Chairman Miaow himself!

The cat was an antique as well - 23 years old!

We cruised back on the Star Ferry – my aim was to get to Temple Street Night Market, so I headed there and left the others to soak up the view of Victoria harbour.

On the Star Ferry with new chums

Lots of cheap stuff was on sale at Temple Street Night Market: cheap clothes, cheap electronics, cheap fake watches, cheap seafood and cheap love. Yes, I was offered cheap love several times at Temple Street Night Market.

Temple Street Night Market - Hong Kong

Among the brightly lit stalls were restaurants where locals and tourists alike tucked into seafood. Living seafood waited its turn for the plate just feet away.

Before my flight to Hanoi, I had a couple of hours to kill, so I made my way to the Bird Market. Here were all kinds of birds on sale, cheek-by-beak. Some people rave about this sort of place, but to be honest, I found it a little bit sad: birds are meant to fly and flock. No matter how gilded the cages, they’re still cages.

Bird Market - Hong Kong

One parrot stayed perched between two telephones. Between cawing “Hello”, he’d make ringing sounds.

The parrot imitated Telephone ringing

A quick rush back to the hotel and that’s Hong Kong in 48 hours! Next stop: Hanoi.

This is the loo in my Ryokan-style hotel in Kyoto:

The seat is heated, which is quite a surprise. You can get an even bigger surprise if you mess around with the wall mounted wireless control panel.

Wall-mounted wireless toilet control box

If you look carefully at the panel, you’ll notice there’s a “Hip Wash” and a “Bidet” function, represented by an icon of a posterior being irrigated and of a woman’s head respectively. On pushing the button, a shower head telescopes out of the toilet seat under you and sprays water dead on target.

I asked my Tokyo-resident friend, Rob, how it is that the aim is so spot on, given that people have bottom variances. He explained that the uncanny aim was a result of thousands upon thousands of user tests. I don’t know how true this is, so I’ll just leave it at that.