We arrived in Hanoi at night and sped into the city from the airport, caught up in bustle and mopeds and the strong smell of smoke from the post-harvest burns of the surrounding rice fields. Over the next two days, with only mildly disorienting jet-lag, we explored the city. It is truly beautiful: an exotic mix of 13th century old quarter, 19th century French colonial grace, 20th century communist grandiosity, and 21st century capitalist fervor.
First founded by Emperor Ly Thai To in 1010 AD, it was originally called Thang Long (City of the Soaring Dragon) after the emperor defeated the occupying Chinese, who had held northern Vietnam under either direct or tributary control for nearly 1000 years, and who would invade countless more times after that. The city has many beautiful lakes, left over after centuries of dyke building contained Red River floods and opened up areas to development. The lake pictured above, Hoan Kiem, is home to huge turtles over 100 years old and this bridge dating from the 19th century which leads to Den Ngoc Son (Jade Mountain Temple). The temple honors the spirits of soil, medicine and literature as well as historical figure Tran Hung Do, a general who defeated the Mongol invasion in the 13th century. The layers and layers of architecture, history, and varied religious beliefs washes over Hanoi in a way that is both wonderful and hard to truly understand.
Scenes from the an 11th century temple near the one pillar pagoda. There is a blend of symbolism from Buddhism, Taoism, Confucian philisophy, ancestor and historical figure veneration, even animism. The most powerful and binding force, of course, is Mahayana Buddhism brought from China.
Ho Chi Minh is definitely the most venerated of all historical figures and the father of modern Vietnamese nationalism. His 1970's masoleum is not subtle. Vietman may have opened up and changed drastically since 1986 reforms wound down the government controlled collective economy and allowed capitalism to take root, but national pride is still not taken lightly here. The history museum covered each and every failed attempt at conquest over Vietnam over it's long history.
Scenes from the old quarter, the most intoxicating and eye opening part of town.
Breakfast, lunch and dinner: Pha bo.
Here is a preserved merchant's house from the old quarter much as it would have appeared around the mid-19th century. Store frontage, kept narrow along the street to minimize per-linear foot taxes, leads back to a long series of rooms and courtyards that would have let light and fresh air into all parts of the house. It is genius in its practical design, and still stunning to look at. Very few of these houses remain as the city's density increased and courtyards were filled in with more rooms for habitation and the houses divided up into multiple family dwellings.
Tucked away in another old "tube house" that still belongs to a single family was Cafe 11 Hang Gai, with multiple levels of private home, cafe, family alter (above) and gardens over four floors with a fantastic view of Hoan Kiem Lake and the surrounding city.
While it may be a heavy touristed stop on the Vietnam circuit, Halong Bay is nonetheless one of the most spectacular places I have ever seen. On par with Milford Sound and northern Iceland. We set out from Hanoi, past rice patties that are quickly being turned into housing developments and through villages that are sprouting 5 story "rocket houses" along the main road... all part of Vietnam's 25 year leap from isolated communist collective to go-go capitalist dictatorship.
As you approach the bay, the landscape reveals itself. The structures in the shallows are fishermans' watch towers where they sometimes sleep to guard over their fish farms.
We set out on a warm, crystal clear afternoon for an overnight cruise into magic land.
First stop was a small fishing village. Fisherman and their families still live in these floating towns. At one time they lived in houseboats, sailing the bay and raising fish in small netted farms. The network of small inlets, surrounded by towering limestone cliffs, protects them from storms. Nowadays, the village has permanent floating houses, generators, TVs, and boats with engines. Tourism provides a steady income. We definitely felt a part of the tourist trap, but honestly it did not matter. It was still fantastic to see.
Here you see how they did it before tourism and gasoline: with a vegetable dyed sail and a tiny boat, equiped for a night or two out in the bay. Back then, it would have been even more peaceful in Halong Bay than it was during our short stay.
Sunset. 
And sunrise the following day.
On the way back to Hanoi we stopped for a roadside meal, including lau ech (wild frog) in a hot pot and ca qua (snake head fish) killed in front of us, deep fried and served with lots of herbs and vinegar. Totally beyond words delectable.
The fish flakes right off and is wrapped in rice paper with the herbs, ginger, cucumber and pineapple.
About and hour from the airport (we had a long day!) we stopped in the village of Tho Ha. Before the advent of plastic, Tho Ha was a center of terra cotta vessel making. All your household needs: buckets, pails, pots, and jugs would have come from Tho Ha and similar villages surrounding Hanoi.
Another day-to-day item made in Tho Ha were secondary coffins. In Vietnamese tradition (actually pre-dating Buddhism) the dead were buried once, dug up 3 years later by the eldest living child and the bones cleaned with herbs, then reburied in a smaller coffin likes the ones used in the wall above. In more recent times, secondary coffins of cement or stone are more widly used and these extra terra cotta ones were put to good use as construction material.
Since plastic bucket and containers are now used instead of ceramics, the village switched to making rice paper. Above you see rice flour drying on woven flats in the open air to make edible rice paper like the kind used in our lunch.
Tho Ha's unrestored 16th century Buddist temple. The highlight for me.
You can see flood damage on the exterior wall. The village floods quite often.
Inside the temple.
Our first stop after Glasgow was the Isle of Skye, where we stayed with family in a cozy rambling farmhouse perched 300 feet above the sea.
We hiked to old 
