by Lindsay Neal –
Living through six to eight months of winter in the Yukon requires strength and endurance. You must thrive in shorter hours of daylight, and not shy from -40°C temperatures. How do you cope? You leave. My boyfriend Eli and I were seeking an affordable destination, rich in culture, and most importantly, plenty of exotic food. Eli had previously lived in Hanoi, Vietnam’s capital city. Between his stories of the exquisite food, the famously creamy “Vietnamese Egg Coffee,” thrilling transportation and the charming French-Colonial architecture, I was sold.
I love eating, so travelling to a place that is known for its fresh ingredients was a great situation for me. We sat at breakfast in West Lake with our knees above the table, in bright kindergarten-sized chairs. Steaming hot bowls of broth and chopsticks were handed to us seconds away from the kitchen where three ladies were preparing the pho, on the corner of the street. The flavours were fresh, vibrant and heavenly. I struggled with my chopsticks for a few minutes before reaching for the fork.
For lunch, Bun Cha was my favourite dish. Spring rolls were served with rice noodles, broth, grilled pork strips and pork meatballs, garlic, spices and dipping sauce. The incredible harmony of flavours had us coming back, often.
Eli wanted to bring me to his favorite Egg Coffee spot but instead, he led me into a silk shop. We then passed through a room of planters and empty birdcages, up three flights of spiral staircases, to a rooftop terrace and little café overlooking Hoàn Kiem Lake. The Egg Coffee: coffee whipped with sweetened condensed milk and an egg yolk, was a silky topping over the hot, black coffee beneath. The only thing that I was fonder of was the iced coconut coffee at Công Cà Phê. I lost count how many of these I had.
We walked in the Old Quarter along the peaceful Hoàn Kiem Lake. The peace of the lake was contrasted by the busy traffic, honking motorcycles and crowds of people. Simply crossing the street looked like a death wish but before I knew it, I was on the back of a motorcycle while Eli drove us through this chaos. Weaving through traffic, we saw men in motorcycles darting down the wrong direction of one-way-streets with giant cages of live chickens balanced on their bikes. Others crammed lumber, their three sleeping children, and pet dog onto their scooters. The architecture we passed was breathtaking: aged French buildings and shops were juxtaposed with closely neighbouring modern designs.
By the end of our stay, I had mastered the art of crossing the street, and using chopsticks. We had eaten and lived like royalty, for a bargain. Our escape from ice and isolation left us refreshed, yet happy to come home. When we arrived, to our delight, winter had ended. The snow had disappeared and the temperature had risen. If I learned anything, it is that we need to go on vacation more often!
Photos by Eli Pasquali.
