Remembering the taste of Vietnam at The Little Saigon
5 years ago, around this time of the year, I was entering Vietnam by train, at midnight, dead tired after spending the night before on a bench in Naning train station, after the hostel I booked oversold my bed. I remember arriving in Hanoi somewhere around 5am, and made my way towards the old town, crossing an old railway bridge over the Red river, which seemed infinite. I was stepping with caution on the wooden structure hoping that no train will pass by until I reached the other end. Reaching the hostel, I was welcomed by a locked what seemed to be a garage door with the shutters down. I banged in the shutters and surprisingly, they opened and a sleepy Vietnamese received me inside. I stepped in, making my way through the narrow space between the couch and the motorbike parked in the middle of the room and was shown to my bed. But as it happens, when you are very tired you can’t really sleep, so I went for a walk on the shores of the Hoan Kiem Lake. I was surprised to find the...