Vietnam's lack of any recognizably legitimate copyright laws is quite frustrating. Especially when I go to find "Cha Ca La Vong," one of Hanoi's famed restaurants, and find four restaurants with identical names and decorations adjacent to one another. I think I find the right one as it's the most popular with the locals and only serves its eponymous dish. Plus unlike the neighboring copycat restaurants, the wait staff is so busy that they do not have time to try to pull me into their establishment.
The restaurant is quite small. Two stories with ugly teal walls, worn brown wooden chairs, and long communal tables that have seen better days. Patrons are sat shoulder-to-shoulder by hurried wait staff. Instead of menu, guests are given small laminated signs that read, "One dish: Cha Ca, 150,000dong" [$7.50].
Cha Ca is a famous Northern Vietnamese fish stew cooked in front of you on small propane grills. Once the metal frying pan is hot, servers place diced fresh fish filets in the pan along with chilis, peanuts, fish sauce, lime, vinegar, shrimp paste, dill, and lastly, noodles. The ingredients are tossed together with metal spoons for a few minutes to concentrate the flavor. The whole thing makes a rich oily fish stew that is herbaceous and spicy. A cold Bia 333 beer is the perfect compliment, only bested by my friendly, attractive tall Irish neighbors (lower images from Google).
New Irish friends and I continue to local Bia Hoi stands after dinner. "Bia Hoi" translates to "draft beer" and hundreds of small, narrow storefronts dot Hanoi selling homemade draft beer nightly until the kegs are kicked. Patrons sit outside on the sidewalk on small blue plastic chairs with equally low tables. We share the remnants of the keg and are eventually joined by Ashley and Yom.
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There are multiple signs around my hostel telling travelers to avoid motorbike taxis in general, but especially at night. It's really unfortunate I didn't read these prior to going out. The friendly-at-first driver is parked outside my bar and agrees to the price (10,000dong = $0.50). We're a block from the hostel when I pay him the agreed tariff. He is less than content, however, and aggressively demands more money. I double the fare and try to exit the bike, but the additional money does little to quell his now enraged red face. He throws me aside and violently grabs my wallet and helps himself to a bill. I snatch it back and sprint off to my hostel, hoping he isn't carrying a gun. Or Vietnamese ninja stars. I'm not sure the bill he took, but even if it was the largest (500,000dong) that's only $25 and I still have my wallet and beating heart. When reciting this story at the hostel, bunk mates say their group of seven was held up my gun point and robbed blind by a motorbike taxi driver. Maybe chock it up to insecurity; some people have such unique ways of making new friends.
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