The Scariest Ten-Metre Walk of Our Trip

English version: see below

Hanoi had ons al dagen aangekondigd dat het anders zou worden en we dachten net dat we Viëtnam kende. We hadden geleerd dat een simpele lunch soms uit zes gerechten bestaat. We ontdekten dat Vietnamezen een talent hebben om met een scooter letterlijk alles te vervoeren. En we konden zelfs al bedragen in Vietnamese dong omrekenen zonder een rekenmachine boven te halen.

Maar Hanoi was anders. Hanoi zou druk zijn. Chaotisch. Overweldigend. Dat merkten we al voor we uit de minibus stapten.

For days, Hanoi had been warning us that it would be different. And just when we thought we had figured Vietnam out, everything changed. We had learned that a simple lunch can easily consist of six different dishes. We had discovered that the Vietnamese possess an extraordinary talent for transporting virtually anything on a scooter. And we could even convert amounts in Vietnamese dong without reaching for a calculator. But Hanoi was different. Hanoi would be busy. Chaotic. Overwhelming. We noticed that before we had even stepped out of the minibus. A City on Two Wheels Our driver decided to take us through the Old Quarter on the way to the hotel. Before long, we found ourselves glued to the windows. Scooters were everywhere. Hundreds of them. They came from every direction at once. Sometimes they even emerged from side streets we did not know existed. Pedestrians weaved their way through the traffic. Street vendors pushed carts through the crowds. On paper, it looked like complete anarchy. And yet, hardly anyone collided. When we finally arrived at our hotel, we received a warm welcome. The hotel felt like an oasis of calm in the middle of the chaos. Beautiful rooms, a rooftop swimming pool, and friendly staff. But we did not stay there for long. We wanted to see Hanoi. The First Real Challenge Fifteen minutes later, we faced our first real challenge. Crossing a street. Not just any street. A Hanoi street. In front of us flowed an endless stream of scooters. No traffic lights. No respected pedestrian crossings. No moment when the traffic would magically stop. Just constant movement. Fortunately, the hotel staff had already prepared us: “Don’t panic.” “Don’t stop suddenly.” “Don’t step backwards.” “Just cross.” Easy enough to say. There we stood, with two children, facing a wall of scooters that showed absolutely no intention of stopping. I looked left. Then right. Then left again. As if that was going to change anything. Trusting the Flow Then we took the first step. And another. And another. The scooters kept moving. They swerved around us. In front of us. Behind us. Sometimes only a few dozen centimetres away. Every instinct in your body screams STOP. But that was exactly what we were not supposed to do. So we kept walking at a calm, predictable pace. A few seconds later, we were standing safely on the other side. Alive. We looked at each other in disbelief. Was that it? Apparently, it was. Behind the Apparent Chaos The next crossing felt a little easier. And the one after that easier still. Slowly, we began to understand the system. Or at least, that is how it felt. To the locals, we probably still looked like tourists who might panic at any moment. The secret of Hanoi is that there is not really any chaos at all. It only looks that way to outsiders. Everyone is constantly moving, but everyone is also paying attention to the movements of everyone else. The person who stops unexpectedly creates the problem. The person who moves steadily becomes part of the flow. During our days in Hanoi, we crossed dozens of streets. By the end of our stay, we were walking among the scooters almost casually, something that had seemed completely unimaginable on our first day. And perhaps that is what makes travel so special. Before a trip, we often imagine obstacles we will have to overcome. We expect unfamiliar situations to be stressful or even a little frightening. But more often than not, we discover that behind that initial uncertainty lies simply a different way of life. Hanoi taught us that things do not have to follow our own rules in order to work. Sometimes, all you need to do is take the first step. And keep walking.

Een stad op twee wielen

Onze chauffeur besloot namelijk via de Old Quarter naar het hotel te rijden. Al snel zaten we met onze neus tegen het raam geplakt. Overal scooters. Honderden. Ze kwamen uit alle richtingen tegelijk. Soms kwamen ze zelfs zijstraatjes waarvan wij niet eens wisten dat ze bestonden. Voetgangers laveerden ertussen door. Handelaars duwden karren voort. Op papier leek het complete anarchie.En toch botste bijna niemand.

Toen we uiteindelijk in ons hotel aankwamen, werden we hartelijk ontvangen. Het hotel was een oase van rust midden in de chaos. Mooie kamers, een zwembad op het dak en vriendelijke medewerkers. Maar lang bleven we er niet. We wilden Hanoi zien.

De eerste echte uitdaging

Een kwartiertje later stonden we voor onze eerste echte uitdaging. Een straat oversteken. Niet een gewone straat. Een Hanoi-straat. Voor ons reed een onophoudelijke stroom scooters voorbij. Geen verkeerslichten. Geen zebrapad dat gerespecteerd werd. Geen moment waarop het verkeer spontaan stopte. Gewoon een voortdurende beweging.

In het hotel hadden ze ons gelukkig al voorbereid.

“Niet panikeren,” kregen we mee.
“Niet plots stoppen.”
“Niet achteruit lopen.”
“Gewoon oversteken.”

Makkelijk gezegd.

Daar stonden we dan. Met twee kinderen. Voor een muur van scooters die geen enkele intentie leek te hebben om te stoppen.

Ik keek naar links. Naar rechts. Nog eens naar links. Alsof dat iets ging veranderen.

Vertrouwen op de stroom

Toen zetten we de eerste stap. En nog één. En nog één. De scooters bleven rijden. Ze weken langs ons uit. Voor ons. Achter ons. Soms op amper enkele tientallen centimeters afstand. Je verstand schreeuwt ‘STOP’, maar dat mocht net niet. Dus bleven we wandelen op een rustig, voorspelbaar tempo. En enkele seconden later stonden we aan de overkant. Levend.

We keken elkaar verbaasd aan. Was dat het? Blijkbaar wel.

Achter de schijnbare chaos

De volgende straat ging al iets makkelijker. En de straat daarna ook. Langzaam begonnen we het systeem te begrijpen. Althans, zo voelde het. Voor de locals zagen we er waarschijnlijk nog steeds uit als toeristen die elk moment in paniek konden uitbreken.

Een van de vele kleine shops in Old Quarter Hanoi

Het geheim van Hanoi is dat er eigenlijk geen chaos is. Het lijkt alleen zo voor buitenstaanders. Iedereen beweegt voortdurend, maar iedereen houdt ook rekening met de beweging van de anderen. Wie plots stopt, veroorzaakt problemen. Wie rustig meebeweegt, geraakt erdoor.

Tijdens onze dagen in Hanoi staken we tientallen straten over. Tegen het einde van ons verblijf liepen we haast achteloos tussen de scooters door. Iets wat op dag één compleet ondenkbaar leek. En misschien is dat wel wat reizen zo bijzonder maakt. Op voorhand denk je vaak dat je obstakels zult moeten overwinnen. Dat onbekende situaties spannend of zelfs een beetje beangstigend zullen zijn. Maar meestal ontdek je dat achter die eerste onzekerheid gewoon een andere manier van leven schuilgaat. Hanoi heeft ons geleerd dat niet alles volgens onze eigen regels hoeft te verlopen om toch te werken.

Soms moet je gewoon een eerste stap zetten.En blijven wandelen.

Hebben we al gezegd dat er veel scooters rijden in Hanoi?

ENGLISH VERSION

For days, Hanoi had been warning us that it would be different. And just when we thought we had figured Vietnam out, everything changed.

We had learned that a simple lunch can easily consist of six different dishes. We had discovered that the Vietnamese possess an extraordinary talent for transporting virtually anything on a scooter. And we could even convert amounts in Vietnamese dong without reaching for a calculator.

But Hanoi was different.

Hanoi would be busy. Chaotic. Overwhelming.

We noticed that before we had even stepped out of the minibus.

A City on Two Wheels

Our driver decided to take us through the Old Quarter on the way to the hotel.

Before long, we found ourselves glued to the windows.

Scooters were everywhere.

Hundreds of them.

They came from every direction at once. Sometimes they even emerged from side streets we did not know existed. Pedestrians weaved their way through the traffic. Street vendors pushed carts through the crowds.

On paper, it looked like complete anarchy.

And yet, hardly anyone collided.

When we finally arrived at our hotel, we received a warm welcome. The hotel felt like an oasis of calm in the middle of the chaos. Beautiful rooms, a rooftop swimming pool, and friendly staff.

But we did not stay there for long.

We wanted to see Hanoi.

The First Real Challenge

Fifteen minutes later, we faced our first real challenge.

Crossing a street.

Not just any street.

A Hanoi street.

In front of us flowed an endless stream of scooters. No traffic lights. No respected pedestrian crossings. No moment when the traffic would magically stop.

Just constant movement.

Fortunately, the hotel staff had already prepared us:

“Don’t panic.”
“Don’t stop suddenly.”
“Don’t step backwards.”
“Just cross.”

Easy enough to say.

There we stood, with two children, facing a wall of scooters that showed absolutely no intention of stopping.

I looked left.

Then right.

Then left again.

As if that was going to change anything.

Trusting the Flow

Then we took the first step.

And another.

The scooters kept moving.

They swerved around us. In front of us. Behind us. Sometimes only a few dozen centimetres away.

Every instinct in your body screams STOP.

But that was exactly what we were not supposed to do.

So we kept walking at a calm, predictable pace.

A few seconds later, we were standing safely on the other side.

Alive.

We looked at each other in disbelief.

Was that it?

Apparently, it was.

Behind the Apparent Chaos

The next crossing felt a little easier.

And the one after that easier still.

Slowly, we began to understand the system.

Or at least, that is how it felt.

To the locals, we probably still looked like tourists who might panic at any moment.

The secret of Hanoi is that there is not really any chaos at all.

It only looks that way to outsiders.

Everyone is constantly moving, but everyone is also paying attention to the movements of everyone else.

The person who stops unexpectedly creates the problem.

The person who moves steadily becomes part of the flow.

During our days in Hanoi, we crossed dozens of streets.

By the end of our stay, we were walking among the scooters almost casually, something that had seemed completely unimaginable on our first day.

And perhaps that is what makes travel so special.

Before a trip, we often imagine obstacles we will have to overcome. We expect unfamiliar situations to be stressful or even a little frightening.

But more often than not, we discover that behind that initial uncertainty lies simply a different way of life.

Hanoi taught us that things do not have to follow our own rules in order to work.

Sometimes, all you need to do is take the first step.

And keep walking.