I’ve never been anyplace quite like Hanoi, and I have to say it is one of my fave cities. It is relentless, chaotic, at once beautiful and ramshackle. Traffic seems like an organism of its own, expanding and contracting. Here in Toronto, I complain about congestion, but Hanoi takes that phenomenon to a whole other level.

Amongst the fantastic chaos, there are serene, beautiful and quiet places, sometimes unexpected.

Hanoi is one of the world’s great food cities, of that I have little doubt, and some of the best food is served up in narrow alleyways, by Aunties serving up a single dish, superbly prepared. We stayed in a hotel in a alley. Around the corner, in a smaller alley, we enjoyed a soup whose name I still don’t know, with meatballs and pork knuckles, bun noodles and a scrumptious broth, served with fried bread-sticks for dunking. Each day she serves from very early to about 11:00 AM when she sells the last of her precious broth. By one, another group has moved in, making grilled and fried sausages, served with fries, and a plate of melon, cucumber and jicama.

We found market gardening going on in the Red River flood plain, on the edge of an intensive neighbourhood on the back side of the dike which hosts the longest mosaic wall in the world.

We heard traditional Vietnamese music, Asian pop, and American jazz played expertly by Vietnamese players.

And we met so many beautiful, kind, wonderful people, people prepared to laugh at themselves and at us, tremendously hard-working people who showed us joy over and over again.

Hanoi is at the same time a great walking city and a difficult one. In Canada, sidewalks are for pedestrians. In Hanoi, sidewalks are for parking motorbikes. We learned to cross streets with dozens of motorbikes bearing down on us. Just watch out for the increasing number of cars and buses who can’t just swarm around us.

Hey Hanoi, it was great to see you again.