Railway travel in Hanoi: a popular railway and a steel bridge

Once I returned to Hanoi, all the noodle soups became delicious, whether they were chicken or beef. I missed the fragrance of the tide in Da Nang, the trains crossing the Hai Van Ridge, the colorful skins and surfboards, but I didn't miss its noodle soup. In my opinion, the ceiling of Da Nang's noodle soup is not as high as the floor of Hanoi's noodle soup. The secret of Hanoi's Vietnamese noodle is not hidden in the various Travel guides, nor in the recommendation list of food apps. Let go of those post-colonial French buildings, their elegance cannot replace the pungent embarrassment of red peppers. Those inconspicuous carts on the street, the ones cooked in the pot are called fragrant. Use the dog's sense of smell to explore the way, and the eyes of the falcon to search. Remember to memorize the rules of "gender discrimination" before voting with your feet: between the two stall owners, the uncle and the old lady, always choose the latter.



After slurping the noodles, you must finish the soup and then have a cup of Vietnamese coffee. This is a perfect answer. Beef noodles are physical food, and coffee in my world should be classified as spiritual food without hesitation. Only in this way can the physical strength and willpower be restored to more than 90%, and only in this way can we have a chance to win the challenge of a one-day walk in Hanoi. Here is a preview, the highlight of today will be a popular railway and a steel frame bridge. Although these are two railway-related attractions, you don't need to take a train. Just use the tenacity of your legs to the extreme and sweep through the streets and alleys of Hanoi in the way of tram No. 11.

Ba Dinh Square

The starting point is naturally the old town where the airbnb apartment is located. Instead of heading towards Hoan Kiem Lake, we went to the North Gate Parish Church first. The orange-yellow exterior is quite eye-catching, and the huge rose window is the iconic landscape of the entire church. The white Virgin Mary holds up the Son Jesus, holy and solemn. We shuttled along this quiet tree-lined avenue all the way west. The ancient plane trees block out the sun, and the trunks are surprisingly thick. Under their cover in groups, Hanoi citizens sit around small open-air tables, drinking coffee and black tea, and the sound of chatting drowns out the noise of motor vehicles. For some reason, there are few noisy motorcycles on this road, which makes the traffic police in light yellow uniforms particularly relaxed. He strolled around boredly, occasionally looking around. The teenager in the Chelsea jersey posed for a free throw, waiting for his little friend to defend. Obviously, they did not plan to spend coffee time with their parents.

Strolled to Ba Dinh Square. On September 2, 1945, President Ho Chi Minh read the Declaration of Independence here, and a socialist Democratic Republic of Vietnam was established. There are online guides that say Ba Dinh Square is Vietnam's "Tiananmen Square". In terms of political implications, the two are similar. But considering the founding time of the People's Republic of China, Tiananmen Square has to admit that it is a younger brother. President Ho has been sleeping in the mausoleum behind Ba Dinh Square, sandwiched between the President's Office Building and the One Pillar Pagoda. The former is full of guards, so ordinary tourists naturally don't want to go in; the latter is just a small temple, and it is not open to people wearing shorts. I looked down at my exposed leg hair and had to give up.





Arriving at the entrance of the Military Museum during the closing time, I felt a little frustrated. Considering that there are only some pictures and texts promoting the victory of the Vietnam War, plus a bunch of scrap metal seized from the Americans, it's okay not to go. The only museum of the same kind that is really worth seeing is the Cu Chi Tunnels on the outskirts of Ho Chi Minh City. "Lenin Park" is across the street from the Military Museum, and two children are doing a "one-on-one" basketball drill. A tall bronze statue stands behind them, with Comrade Lenin's expression serious, staring straight into the distance. I don't know if he is thinking about the fate of the proletariat all over the world, or if he has discovered some unspeakable secrets in the city.

Crossing two streets from here, you will see a railway. Four years ago, no one cared about the place, but now it has become a popular online railway with tourists.

Hanoi Train Street

Before becoming an online railway, and even now, the primary function of the online railway is not to attract tourists, but to complete the basic function of railway passenger transportation-running trains. Compared with the railways of the world's powers, Vietnam's railways are not only backward, but also sluggish in development. There are no electrified railway lines in the whole area, all of which are primitive single-track railways. Whether going up or down, trains have to step on the only railway line. This popular railway is the section between Hanoi Railway Station and Longbian Railway Station. When the train squeezes out of the airtight old buildings, the driver may become a murderer at any minute, but he does not have to worry about being put in prison. In the most cramped place, there is not even enough space for a fat man between the train and the wall.

Four years ago, I accidentally discovered this railway that runs through the city. At that time, there were no colorful graffiti, let alone train-style cafes and grocery stores. There were only uncles sleeping on recliners, aunts washing vegetables at the door of their homes, and the smell of rotten fish and shrimp. The railway is like a straw, and I was sucked into this secret world by my curiosity. People have lived by the railway all their lives, with calm and natural expressions on their faces, and no emotional expression can be seen. I guess they have long learned how to answer with silence in the day-to-day disturbance of the steel monster. There is a Pingxi Railway in Taiwan. When the train enters Shifen Old Street, tourists can reach out and take down a piece of clothes hung on the clothesline by local residents. I have only seen such scenes in Hou Hsiao-hsien's movie "Goodbye Southland", and never expected that there would be a similar scene in Hanoi. And in terms of "people-friendly", this place is even better.




I was looking forward to that magical moment: the clothes on the clothes drying racks were hurriedly taken down, the chairs for cooling off by the railway were moved in, the shops put away the parasols, and the aunt washing vegetables hid at home in panic... It was not the three thousand urban management officers who came, but a train. But after waiting for a long time, I didn't hear the crisp sound of the diesel locomotive bagpipe, but witnessed a bloody "killing": an old Vietnamese woman holding a cigarette and holding an unlucky old hen, gently wiped the neck with a knife, and the blood rushed to the railway embankment, dyeing a pile of small stones red. I felt a little physically uncomfortable, but I was not as calm as the orange cat next to me. It rode on the track with a numb face, posing an expression of commonplace.

Today's railway is as hot as the burning blasting tubes during the Vietnam War. The number of tourists is rampant, and the chickens here are also suffering: four years ago, the old lady killed the chicken, perhaps just to make soup for her grandson. Today, four years later, tens of millions of New Orleans roast chicken, Korean spicy fried chicken, Japanese grilled chicken skewers and Sichuan pepper chicken have become the dishes for tourists to take a break. Which Instagram influencer with amazing sales or the ubiquitous travel guide betrayed this place? I was confused. Even Google Maps has recorded it: Hanoi Train Street, an unofficial name.

In any case, the fact that the Internet celebrity railway is an Internet celebrity cannot be changed. You have to squeeze together with the most trend-following tourists in the world and fight for a coffee table next to the railway. Sorry, I have to be picky about chickens again. Somehow, when tourists stand on the railway to take beautiful photos, they always seem to inadvertently lift one leg and make a "Golden Rooster Stands on One Leg" pose. Perhaps it is closely related to the fact that this railway contains chicken genes, after all, it has been watered with chicken blood. There was also a European and American woman in black clothes who simply played a handstand. So when I was sitting on the balcony on the second floor drinking coconut juice, I could clearly see a piece of chewing gum stuck on the sole of her shoe.






"This is 30,000 dong, too expensive." The coconut juice was not fresh, so I complained to the waiter, a Vietnamese boy who wore a Nirvana album cover on his body. He smiled slightly, as if he was justified, pointed at the Bayern Munich logo on my backpack and shouted: "Lewandowski." "I still like Nirvana more, but I don't like the album you have on." I returned the favor. He shook his head and asked me where I was from. "China? China is strong in all aspects, except football." He said with a smile. "If we don't talk about football, we can still communicate happily." I interrupted him.

His name is Nguyen Van Viet, he speaks fluent English and a few simple Chinese. He was forced to serve dishes because he had to study computer science at Hanoi University of Technology most of the time. If it weren't for the winter vacation, he would never have appeared on Train Street to help his father run this coffee shop. "I grew up watching trains," he said, "I'm very happy when the train comes. Because the train only appears on weekends when there are no classes."

I suddenly realized and quickly checked the calendar. "So is there no train today?" "Yes, today is not the weekend, the train will not come between 9 am and 5 pm." I was a little frustrated and could only accept the fate of another empty-handed. When checking out, Nguyen Van Viet charged me 20,000 Vietnamese dong. But this was not enough to comfort me. I would rather he charged me 50,000 Vietnamese dong, while the train rumbled under my feet.

The bombed bridge

On the way to Longbian Bridge, I ran into a funeral. The funeral home was small and hidden among a bunch of ordinary buildings. The red Audi stopped on the side of the road, and two women in black dresses walked elegantly. The patent leather high heels glowed with a cold light, which was in sharp contrast to the polite smile on their faces. They walked straight to the place where the black-clad people gathered and soon disappeared. The noise of the Dongxuan market was one after another, and we had no intention of bargaining with the small vendors. It was not until the Czech-made D12E diesel locomotive drove into the Longbian Railway Station that the steel skeleton of the Longbian Bridge vaguely appeared in front of us.

In November 2017, Vietnamese fishermen fished out a rusty iron object in the rolling Red River under the Longbian Bridge. There were a bunch of inexplicable English and Arabic numerals written on it. When the experts came to take a look, they were shocked. This was clearly a bomb dropped by the US military during the Vietnam War. After removing the fuse, it is very likely to be loaded into a truck and taken to a museum to warn the world. This may be difficult to do as it wishes. After 50 years, how can it forget the fish's free and easy, the beauty of aquatic plants and the peaceful years of a person?

At 4 pm on August 11, 1967, 45 bombers hovered over the Longbian Bridge, and bombs poured down like sheep dung balls, as if the sky was having diarrhea. The indestructible steel frame bridge was cut in half in an instant. After 18 days and nights of repairs, the bridge was reopened to traffic on August 30. It is worth mentioning that the 14th and 15th holes of the bridge, which were the most severely damaged, were repaired by Chinese engineers who were fighting against the United States and aiding Vietnam at that time.

So why did the Americans go to great lengths to blow up the Longbian Bridge? This has to start with the unique geographical location of the Longbian Bridge. Many people don’t know that Vietnam has only two real railway lines: one is the Yunnan-Vietnam Railway connecting Kunming, China, through Lao Cai and Hanoi to Haiphong; the other is the unified railway between the "two capitals" - Hanoi and Ho Chi Minh City. The Longbian Bridge is located at the throat of Lao Cai, the Sino-Vietnamese border in the north of Hanoi, and Haiphong, the third largest city in Vietnam. It is like an esophagus leading to the urban area of ​​Hanoi. Once it is cut off, the railway transportation between Lao Cai, Hanoi and Haiphong will be paralyzed.

On the south side of the Longbian Bridge, there is a "bridgehead", namely the Longbian Railway Station. Many trains from Haiphong stop here. We bought a soft seat ticket to Haiphong the next day, which cost 770,000 Vietnamese dong, which is about 22 yuan. VNR (Vietnam Railway) also has a "hard seat" ticket. Don't think that you are Chinese and feel more familiar. The hard seats of Vietnamese people are real wooden seats. Please don't try it rashly, otherwise even I will feel sorry for those of you who are spoiled by the "Harmony".




If the "Hanoi Train Street" is crowded with tourists from all over the world, then the ones dancing in the wind on the Longbian Bridge are the gorgeous Ao Dai. This is a paradise for local Internet celebrities, wedding photography groups and girls, an authentic "Hanoi Women's Guide". The Ao Dai of Vietnamese girls is as beautiful as the Chinese cheongsam, and it must be paired with a pair of trousers, which is lighter and more flexible than the cheongsam, and it is not easy to show. This makes them extremely arrogant on the railway bridge. The train has already driven behind them, but they still make a scissor hand gesture to the camera. Fortunately, the speed of the VNR diesel locomotive crossing the bridge will not exceed 30km/h, so the driver has plenty of time to curse and honk the horn. These brave girls, like participating in a train game to compete for courage, did not jump to the side of the track until the last moment. At this time, the Longbian Bridge had already been shaken.

Looking up and looking around, trying to find a camera position to shoot the bridge, I accidentally found a cafe with a God's perspective. It is located in a lonely watchtower. Take the elevator to the rooftop of the sixth floor. The table with the best view has been occupied first. We sat down in front of the table with the second best view. At this moment, Long Bien Bridge is lying quietly under our feet. It wades straight across the mother river of the Vietnamese people, like a giant dragon lying on the water. Those protruding steel and iron bones are even more similar to the fins on the back of the dragon. In 1897, a French architect named Alexandre Gustave Eiffel won the design competition for Long Bien Bridge. He is the designer of the Eiffel Tower. In 1899, Paul Dumer, the Governor-General of French Indochina, ordered the construction of this bridge. Three years later, Hanoi finally had the first railway steel frame bridge across the Red River, and the wheel of history rolled from the 19th century to the 20th century. Now more than 100 years have passed, and this weathered bridge has become a bit old. But by chance, it has become a hot fashion landmark. I just wonder if those beautiful girls wearing Ao Dai still remember a long-standing poem?

"There is a Longbian Bridge in Hanoi, it is long and wide, it is built over the Red River, trains travel leisurely, people carry loads and come and go, it is very lively"



Epilogue

Nine years ago, I lost Eric Rohmer while Traveling in Yangshuo. One ordinary morning, I learned the news of the death of the French New Wave director on a public computer in the Old Squad Leader Youth Hostel. On the bus to Yangdi, I told a fellow traveler the bad news, but the girl, who was still studying at the Film Academy, cried all the way to the terminal and refused to get off. Time has passed, and I wanted to greet the sunset in Hanoi while looking at the Longbian Bridge, but I saw a message about the death of Swiss actor Bruno Ganz in an app push on my phone.

Many Chinese people can't call out Bruno Ganz's name, but they have all appreciated a performance: it was an angry head of state, he was trembling all over, the veins on the corners of his mouth bursting, and in the deathly silent basement, he scolded his generals and staff... This is a scene from the German movie "Downfall", in which Hitler, played by Bruno Ganz, died in an inexplicable way due to the crazy spoofs of Chinese netizens: they made countless subtitled re-editions and uploaded them to any video website you can browse. "The roaring Hitler" has since become a household name in China, but few people know, except for movie fans, that Bruno Ganz is also the leading actor in "Eternity and a Day" and "Wings of Desire", two classic films that have won awards at the Cannes Film Festival.

I felt the sadness coming in waves, more aggressive than the US bombers. I couldn't sit still in the cafe, so I walked along the Longbian Bridge to see the Red River and listened to the sound of the air trembling when the train came, just as a kind of consolation to Bruno Ganz. When you look down at the Longbian Bridge from the rooftop, you will feel that it is like a miniature railway sand table in the living room. Once you put your feet on it, you will know that the Red River is really generous and fat, and you can't reach the center of the river bank even after walking for a long time. The motorcycles on both sides of the bridge whirred back and forth, and at the most dense moments, they would connect into a steel centipede that was crawling at a high speed, so passers-by had to move forward slowly and cautiously along the narrow sidewalk. When you walk a little further to the open place, there are already vendors selling bananas waiting for a long time. A driver wearing a green uniform of "Grab" (a motorcycle-hailing company in Southeast Asia) bent down to bargain with her.

The deeper we went, the fewer girls there were in Ao Dai. Only then did the Red River begin to shed its mysterious veil: it was so filthy that one could see through the mud at the bottom of the river, and it exuded a foul smell. The middle-aged men smiled and said nothing. A Vietnamese uncle held the steel fence with his left hand, and swung his right hand and right foot like a pirate ship, soaking his white hurdle vest with sweat. I stared at him for a while, but I couldn't wait for the moment to change direction. There were still fishing boats under my feet, and it was unknown whether they would pick up a bomb that luckily failed to explode.