Good Morning Vietnam

Claire Heaney
The young girl comes closer, spinning her hands and fingers around like a crazed spider trying to trap me in her web.
"I make you more beautiful" she promises.
My daughter, Hannah, 10, laughs nervously.
At first I am confused, then it finally dawns on me that the fine thread she is flicking around is her toolkit. She is a mobile beautician, practising the ancient art of hair removal by the threading technique.
Minutes earlier I am talked into ordering a red pair of boots from a local shoe shop.
Things happen in Vietnam when you are not looking.
Earlier, my nearly five-year-old has her foot run over by a motorcycle in what is possibly the quietest street in the whole of Vietnam.
Having survived hair-raising crossings of busy Hanoi streets, where you clasp hands tightly and step out with conviction that you will make it to the other side, we have a false sense of security.
In HoiAn, in central Vietnam, the road is closed and our travelling party of three families is wandering along when a motorbike speeds past.
I shouted to Lucy to be careful. She is startled and walks into its path.
She lets our an ear piercing scream and kind locals come running with containers of Tiger Balm. She’s fine but my nerves are shot.
Her plastic Crocs shoes are broken.
So, this is why we find ourselves in the Hoian Market looking for new shoes.
They do not have the right size. But, "Wait" the stall holders implore, they will come back with some that will fit.
It is then that I make the fatal mistake of looking too intently at a pair of custom made boots. Before I know it colour swatches are out and the tape measures is sizing up my sweaty calves.
Lucy's shoes arrive. She, her father and brother, Patrick, duly race off to hop into the hotel pool.
But Hannah and I don't escape so easily.
As we walk out the beautician buddy strikes, with her promise to thread every bit of facial hair she can see and then some. “Ouch” I say.
“No pain, no gain,” she says menacingly.
My resistance is futile. And it turns out to be one of the funnier moments of our Vietnam adventure.
We start our Gap Family Adventure in Hanoi where we hook up with three families and our guide, Lap Nguyen.
The reasons for signing up for the package tour vary. One family is a single parent with two children and other is made up of three children with their dad and stepmother. They are wanting some adventure without the hassle and headaches and this is exactly what we get.
The children generally match up age wise. My Lucy is the odd one out and over the holiday she becomes something of a spare fairy.
Having explored the wonders of Hanoi in planned and free time a much anticipated highlight is the overnight stay in Halong Bay, about three hours by bus.
The bus trip is long for those who, like my son, suffer from traffic sickness. We have not packed anything that resembles a tablet. Fortunately our fellow travellers are better prepared.
In the meantime, my husband is nursing the sick bag, waiting for the stop at a craft outlet to deposit it in the bin.
Halong Bay, once we get there, is magnificent. We hop on one of what seems like hundreds of junks and set sail.
The rooms are very comfortable and the kids are in seventh heaven with all sorts of vantage points from which to see. We make a stop at the limestones.
It is so serene. The stay involves incredibly sumptuous food and wonderful service. The kids are intrigued by the dragonfruit with its black spots.
"It’s very posh," observes Patrick.
As the night fades the more adventurous of the group start jumping into the water from the junk. One of the parents hops in to make sure they are safe. They are having a ball. Patrick is reluctant but I can see he will be very hard on himself should he not give it a try. After some time he takes the leap and then can’t get enough.
“Jumping into the water from the boat was one of the best things I have ever done,” he insists.
By night we are passed by party boats and floating markets.
The stay ends all too soon and we make our way to Hanoi to catch an overnight train to Hue (pronounced Way). We are amazed by the locals ability to fit just about anything precariously on the back of a motorbike. It becomes a competition as we spot toilets, goldfish in plastic bags, eggs, seat and assorted cargo.
The guide tells us that we are in the first class and the beds are hard because the train is new and they haven’t been worn in.
The ride is fun for the kids. Then we strike a landslide and find ourselves arriving late in Hue.
This is something we soon come to realise in Vietnam. Natural disasters can follow you and will alter your best laid travel plans.
Hue is another extraordinary place with its pagoda and temple. A highlight is a cyclo ride to the Citadel.
While dining at a restaurant we spot local children performing. Wondering whether we should tip them as street entertainers, we are told they are practising for the upcoming Moon Lantern Festival.
The next day we make our way to HoiAn which is particularly beautiful and also famous for its tailoring.
We see some temples and take up an offer to do an optional cooking class. This turns into one of the best memories.
With our instructor, Nam, we walk to the local HoiAn fressh food market which backs on to the wharf. My youngest, Lucy, calls this the stinky market and I fear one of the three children is going to be ill they are so repulsed by the fish guts all over the floor.
We are shown an amazing array of vegetables and then return to his restaurant, the Hong Phuc.
We set about creating our own feast. Mindful of the littlies chopping their fingers with knives, we cut and stuff a fish which is grilled in bananas leaves, making a tasty salsa and
preparing and frying yummy spring rolls. The kids are raving about the taste of lemongrass and sampling dishes in Vietnam that at home they would baulk at.

“This is one of the best things I have ever eaten,” says Hannah, eagerly eating the fish. I can’t disagree.
It is during our stay in HoiAn that we learn of Typhoon Ketsana, making its way from the Philippines. This proves inconvenient and delays our trip. There is only one thing to go. Shop. We spend the time sorting out some tailoring orders.
The results are on the whole great. With some thought on my partthey lts could have been even better.
The Typhoon means we find ourselves staying longer and we watch as local methodically go about their preparation with sandbags and shifting valuables out of harm’s way.
There is a lot of damage but villagers seem philophosical and just clean up. We are able then to fly out from Danang to bustling Ho Chi Minh City.
Immediately we see how much bigger and busier and modern it is than Hanoi. Our schedule has been affected by the typhoon but we are all philosophical and appreciative that we have not had the headache of sorting it out.
Instead of an overnight stay on the Mekong Delta, which we had been looking forward to, we do a day trip.
This proves another highlight. We visit Coconut Island where an army of workers knead, shape, cut and wrap coconut sweets at break-neck speed.
Then it is on to Turtle Island. The children have snakes, harmless we are assured, wrapped around their necks.
Back in Ho Chi Minh we venture into the huge market.
It has shelves of goods stacked skyhigh and narrow laneways. Not much fun if you are claustrophobic or a cute fair-haired little girl. The vendors take a liking to Lucy and their unrelenting attention freaks her out. We have to leave.
All too soon is it is time to go home. We are disappointed that we did not allow more time at the end of the trip to further explore Ho Chi Minh at our own leisure.
But our appetite has been whet for Vietnam. We have found the trip a fantastic, comfortable and safe way to travel with our children.
Although we have undertaken international travel with our children, they all regard it as the “best trip ever”.
And mum, who is usually burning the midnight oil trying to fine tune independent travel arrangements via the internet for weeks on end, couldn’t agree more.
Claire Heaney is a Melbourne writer.