I always love to see my family in England but this was one of those trips I would have preferred not to have to do. A death in the family is never what you want as the reason for a visit. My nephew's funeral was held on the Monday after my arrival in England, and with an early departure Tuesday morning, I decided to simply stay up late with my family in Leyland, say all the goodbyes there in the early hours of the morning, and head off back to Manchester with no entourage.
My journey over from Melbourne via Ho Chi Minh, Hanoi and Paris had been less than pleasant - first and foremost, the reason for the trip kept me out of traveller mode the whole time, so things I would normally enjoy I simply couldn't. Then there was the rather scary episode with my missing visa, which triggered all sorts of unpleasant imaginings in my mind. ( If you haven't read about the journey from Melbourne to Manchester, please feel free to have a look ). In hindsight, it was probably fitting that a few things didn't go too smoothly, and more appropriate that I didn't enjoy that trip. But now I had the worst things behind me and things ahead to look forward to - I was going home!
My departure from Manchester was scheduled for 6:30am, and as everyone was getting quite tired after a long and heart-wrenching day, I left my sister-in-law's house in Leyland a little after 1:30am and slipped onto the M6 Motorway. The M6 was predictably quiet though there was still some traffic around. In these conditions it only takes about forty minutes to drive to Manchester Airport, which left me plenty of time to find where I had to leave my Avis car and drop the keys.
Manchester Airport was built between 1935 and 1938 in the Parish of Ringway, north of Wilmslow, and about 8 miles south-west of Central Manchester. The airport was opened in June 1938 and was then known as Ringway Airport, the name I originally knew it by as a child in Lancashire in the 1960's. During World War Two it became RAF Ringway, returning to civilian service after the war. It is the busiest UK airport outside of London and provides services to 200 destinations - more than any other UK airport. Manchester has three terminals plus a freight terminal, and sits on 1440 acres of land, with more land available for future growth.
I parked my car, and as there were no attendants overnight I took a few photos to show there was no damage, just in case. I wandered into Terminal 2C just before 3:00am to find the place practically deserted as there were no departing flights at that time. All the shops were closed which meant I couldn't even get a coffee, much to my disappointment. I wandered aimlessly around the rather uninteresting check-in area, not wanting to wander too far in case they opened up. By about 4:00am a few more people were beginning to arrive, which confirmed I was in the right place. I went outside for a smoke as the morning twilight began to announce the new day.
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| Starting to busy-up as dawn breaks around 4:30am |
As more people started to fill the check-in area, shop security screens were being raised, and the place started to come alive. Around 5-5:30am I was finally able to buy a coffee, but barely had time to drink it before the Air France check-in opened up. By now the scene was that of a bustling airport, with people everywhere, and it wasn't long before I was checked in, and moving through security.
Once through security there seemed to be more people than ever on the air side, and I was puzzled as to where they all came from. Queues had already formed at the fast food stores, and reluctantly I joined one as I was quite hungry by this time. I took my exhorbitantly priced burger and went to find somewhere relatively uncrowded to eat it. It was two years since I last flew out of Manchester, still in the pre-smoke-free era. At that time the departure lounges had "Smoking" and "No Smoking" areas, all within the same group of lounges. But now, smokers like me were relegated to a tiny quarantine area, designed to be so putrid and smelly it would put smokers off smoking. Had I been in a happier frame of mind it might have worked, but with no sleep since the morning of the funeral, and the sadness of that day still lingering, I still wasn't really in traveller mode yet, so needless to say, it didn't work.
By 6:00am we should have been boarding the flight to Paris but we weren't. There were delays in departures, I think mainly just because of the volume of traffic. At about 6:15 an announcement was made to the effect that Flight AF1469 to Paris would be departing about an hour to an hour and a half late, but that we would be boarding now so that we can depart as soon as the opportunity arises. Ordinarily I wouldn't be too keen on sitting on a plane on the ground for an extra hour or more, but by now I was so tired I thought it was a great idea. I could sit down, buckle up, and go to sleep.
Once seated on board the Air France A320 I fell asleep fairly quickly, and after a pleasant nap of about an hour I was woken by the movement of plane being pushed back. My seat was slightly aft of centre of wing, on the starboard side. By 7:27am we were airborne, a little under an hour late.
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| A last look at Manchester Airport as I head off to Paris |
The skies were mainly clear as we left Manchester, but I didn't get to enjoy much of the scenery as I soon drifted off to sleep again. I awoke nearly an hour later to the Captain's announcement that we were approaching Paris.
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| Hazey conditions approaching Paris |
With the easiest flight segment of my journey home complete, I now had to keep myself occupied for four hours before my next flight, the long haul from Paris back to Ho Chi Minh. Shouldn't be too hard at Charles De Gaulle. Having had a bit of sleep, albeit broken, I was feeling quite good when I came out onto the land side of the airport, and had a look around.
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| This almost empty footpath outside 2E belies the situation inside - pandomonium in there! |
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| The outer side of the railway station heading towards 2C |
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| The elevated walkway gives a view of the railway station inside the airport building |
You can do an awful lot of walking in a major airport, and CDG is no exception. In fact, you can do more walking here than in most, although there are shuttle buses around the airport, and travellators to help with longer walks. But I chose to walk - you get a better look and feel that way.
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| An Air France Airbus A340 - One of only two quad jets you'd be likely to see in June 2007, the other being, of course, the B747. The A380 was flying, but hadn't entered service yet. |
Typically any kind of food or drink is quite expensive in an airport, and as I had very little cash on me, and no idea how badly damaged my credit card was, I stuck to just having the odd coffee while I wandered around exploring this amazing airport. It's not a bad way to kill a few hours, and Charles De Gaulle would be worth a flight just to visit the airport alone!
The time passed quickly enough and then I had to make my way through the ritual security and immigration checks in Terminal 2C before boarding Vietnam Airlines Flight VN 0532, bound for Ho Chi Minh City. I wasn't looking forward to the long haul flight, and after my introduction to Ho Chi Minh a week earlier I wasn't too keen on that either. But I was keen to get home. And looking forward to a feed!
Our Boeing 777 was parked out on the tarmac, which meant a bus ride from the terminal and mobile stairs to board.
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| Look at the size of that engine! |
This was the first time I'd been in France without leaving the airport or seeing anyone I knew. Ah well....next time I'll stay longer. Once again I found myself centre wing in seat 32A, on the port side of this 777 as we taxied out for an on-time take off from Charles De Gaulle Airport. It was early afternoon as we travelled East-South-East towards the night, accelerating the day into early darkness. After a delicious meal served by the lovely Flight Attendants, I managed to get a bit of patchy sleep, waking with the sunrise in my window. From a 2:00pm take off from Paris, just ten and a half hours later the night had been and gone, and a new day was dawning over Myanmar
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| Sunrise over Myanmar, looking towards Mae Ping National Park in Thailand |
With an hour and a half to go until landing at Ho Chi Minh, I pondered the unpleasant experience there a week earlier, and decided to put that down to a bit of bad luck on a generally bad day, and to re-enter Ho Chi Minh with an open mind. My sense of adventure was slowly beginning to return as the sadness of the last few days gradually subsided. I was starting to feel a little like a traveller again. An ocean of cloud lay underneath us, concealing the earth below, and worn like a mantle on the shoulders of Ba Den Mountain, a solitary, silent sentinel welcoming us back to Vietnam
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| Flying over Cambodia, close to the Vietnam border, Ba Den Mountain peers majestically above the clouds in Tay Ninh Province |
Approaching from the North West we turned eastward, heading away from Tan Son Naht Airport before doubling back for a final approach from the East. I was starting to feel quietly excited now as we gently flew over the Saigon River, slowly weaving its path through the suburbs of Ho Chi Minh. My apprehensions that had been lingering since last time were overshadowed by the thrill of meeting a new city - this is what every traveller lives for!
We touched down at Tan Son Naht at 6:50am, about twenty minutes early, and taxied quickly to the terminal, passing what looked like inverted concrete half-pipes on the edge of the airfield. These relics from the past were once fortified hangars where jet fighters were stored.
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| Relics from a bygone era, fortified hangars line the edge of the Tan Son Naht Airfield. I was a bit slow with the camera, but a bigger, longer one can be seen beyond the wing tip |
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| Our B777 at the jetway |
Entry into Ho Chi Minh was trouble free this time - no visa required! Having arrived land-side a little after 7:00am with a departure scheduled for 9:25pm, this is often referred to as a "bad connection". Vietnam Airlines offered a choice of a tour of Ho Chi Minh or a hotel room, all included in the airfare. Considering it was a pretty low airfare to begin with, I thought that was a pretty good deal. When she booked the ticket, Marianne, my travel agent, opted on my behalf for the hotel room rather than the tour. Although I had managed to get some sleep during the flight, as usual it wasn't quality sleep, and the prospect of being able to have a shower and sleep for a while in a proper bed was really inviting at this point.
It took a little over an hour from landing to finding the appropriate person ( or rather him finding me ) and then those of us who took the hotel option were ushered outside to a waiting mini-bus. The bus would take us to the Rainbow Hotel, about half an hour away. Amid much honking of horns from all directions and a million motorcycles we drove away from the airport, and I got my first look at Ho Chi Minh City from the ground.
The streets were lined with large, colourful billboard-style signs at every shop, making a bright but chaotic streetscape. I'd never seen so many motorcycles in one place before. They were everywhere, like swarming ants, some carrying whole families or multiple parcels on board.
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| I counted five people on more than one passing motorbike, but missed the photo opportunities. Here you can see Mum holding a baby, and Dad driving, with a toddler on his lap. Note the protective gear. |
A few minutes before we reached our hotel, the bus came to a sudden stop and the driver stepped out onto the street. It appeared he had actually bumped a lady and knocked her off her pushbike, and her shopping that had been in a handlebar basket was strewn all over the road. Our driver calmly helped the lady up, gathered her shopping back into the basket for her, and with no further fuss climbed back into the bus and drove on.
After an entertaining and somewhat enlightening drive through Ho Chi Minh we arrived at the Rainbow Hotel, at 41 Nguyen Duy Duong Street in District 5, at about 8:45am. In the airconditioned comfort of the minibus I'd forgotten how hot and humid it had been when we all came out of the airport, so I was happy that the bus was parked right outside the hotel, with only a few feet to walk to escape the oppressive heat.
The staff at reception were very friendly and after a quick passport check I was shown to my room. The room was very basic, but it had three items which were very exciting to me at the time: a shower, airconditioner, and a bed! There was no outside view, the single window facing an internal light well, so not much to see there. The bathroom had a hand basin, shower/bath combined, and a toilet. The airconditioner was facing the bed, and there was a television I couldn't make any sense of.
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| Shower, toilet, hand basin - very basic, but everything I needed. |
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| My "view" to the light well. Magnificent! |
There was no coffee maker but there was a bar fridge with some cold soft drinks, so after a quick Pepsi I had a nice shower while the airconditioner took care of the temperature, then stretched out on the bed and fell asleep. I slept for a couple of hours and then decided I would venture outside to have a look around. Now in the middle of the day the heat was even worse, but probably no more so than a humid Melbourne summer's day. Coming out of the hotel I turned left on the footpath and headed down to the first corner.
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| A shop owner seems to be sweeping something up in the street, quite unconcerned about the charge of motorcycles heading towards him |
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| Motorcycles! |
While I was tempted to explore I had still had reservations and a certain hesitation, so I decided to just keep turning left, without crossing any roads. This of course simply took me around the block and back to the hotel. I left it at that for two reasons: first and foremost, I really didn't want to get lost and not be on that minibus back to the airport, and second, crossing those roads with thousands of seemingly crazy motorcycles was a bit of a scary prospect! I ambled slowly around the block taking in a mix of tiny, tiny shops with frontages no more than maybe six or eight feet wide, and footpath vendors selling their wares from little more than a high-sided wheel barrow. I couldn't help noticing the overhead wiring:
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| I don't know which is power and which is phone, but I'd hate to be troubleshooting that lot! |
There were lots of bad smells outside food shops, and the footpaths seemed very cluttered with litter. I checked the price of cigarettes at one of the "barrow" sellers, and a packet of Marlboro was 16,000 Dong. I had no idea what that was, so I sent a text to my wife to get her to look it up on the Internet, and a few minutes later she informed me that it was less than a dollar! I had a small mix of Australian, British and Euro money on me but no Vietnamese Dong, so I went back into the hotel to find that they did indeed offer a currency exchange. I had enough British Pounds to buy about 60,000 Dong, and went back out to my street vendor and bought three packets of Marlboro. That left a few thousand Dong to keep as a souvenir. My little adventure over, I went back to the hotel, still tired from the long haul flight and the heat. I opened another can of soft drink then lay on the bed. And I slept. And slept.
I woke suddenly in a state of panic. I felt like I'd been asleep for hours. Too many hours. My head full of fog, I had no idea what the time was. My watch was set to UK time, my phone, laptop and camera were on Australian time, and where the hell was I? What time was it here? Had I slept through the bus pick-up to get back to the airport? I had a drink from the can I'd opened earlier, lit up a cigarette, and calmed down. There was nothing in the room to tell me the correct local time, but once I'd finished panicing I was able to work it out by comparing the times on my photos with the time on the camera, which told me how long I'd been in the hotel. Phew! Still about an hour till the bus comes. My travel agent had warned me to make sure I had some sort of alarm and perhaps ask the hotel staff to book a wake up call - "You wouldn't be the first person to miss a flight through sleeping too long..." she had said. Point taken.
After another shower I packed up my things and toddled down to the reception area to wait for the bus. As per the plan the bus arrived around 6:30, I thanked the hotel staff for their help and service, and a few of my fellow guests piled into the bus with me. I hadn't seen them the whole time since we all arrived on the bus, so I figured they probably just slept as well. The sun had just about set, and it was starting to grow dark outside, but the street was brightly lit in many colors. Once again we wove our way through the cacophony of motorcycles and honking horns, arriving back at the airport about 7:00pm.
Once checked in I wandered around the airport and the duty free shops, where the cigarettes were considerably dearer than my street seller. I found a cafe with a pay Internet service, and had a coffee while I tried to contact home. Skype and Facebook were not available then, and the closest I could get to "chatting" was email. But it worked and I was able update everyone with my status. An empty smokers' room became my base camp, making short sorties to wander around to pass the time, until once again it was time to board yet another B777 for the final leg of my journey. Flight VN-0781 took off on time at 9:25pm, and I was somewhere on the port side at the wing, in a 2-5-2 configuration, with a lovely Vietnamese lady beside me. Now living in Melbourne, she had been back to Ho Chi Minh to visit her family.
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| A last look at Tan Son Naht Airport just before take off |
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| Ho Chi Minh City at night - pity my camera wasn't really suited to this type of shot |
I chatted a little with my new friend, although her English wasn't all that good. It was, however, much better than my Vietnamese, and we managed to communicate quite well. A nice supper was served not long after departure, and then it was time to drift off to sleep. I pondered on my time in Vietnam, already regretting not having taken a bit more notice and not being a little more adventurous. Perhaps I should have taken the tour of the city. It was a strange feeling, almost like I'd been there before, knew the country better, and now wished I'd gone back to revisit places from the past. But there was no past, no history of me and Vietnam. Happily I was a few years too young to have been dragged into their troubles. But perhaps through having grown up in the sixties and seventies, with Vietnam being in the news nearly every day, even as a child I was subliminally absorbing names like Saigon, Ha Noi, Mekong, and Ho Chi Minh, and now this journey brought hazed, artificial memories forward to create a strange familiarity and affinity with Vietnam. I don't doubt that I'll return one day.
As we passed between Lake Callabonna and Lake Frome on the Eastern edge of South Australia, I was woken once again by the sunrise peering through my window.
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| Flying just inside South Australia, a beautiful sunrise over western New South Wales welcomed me back to Australia |
After a nice breakfast I helped my travelling companion to fill in her Incoming Passenger card, and soon the Captain announced that our descent into Melbourne was commencing.
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| 6000 feet just North of Sunbury, clouds gather as we descend into Melbourne Airport |
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| Home Sweet Home, back at Melbourne Airport. |
In the last ten days Vietnam Airlines had moved from being a carrier I knew nothing about, to one that I now held in high regard and considered to be a world-class airline. Their Flight Attendants were nothing short of exemplary - friendly, courteous and attentive. The food was good and tasty, and offered a choice between traditional Asian or Western styles, to cater for every palette. Out of five flights with Vietnam Airlines, I felt I had nothing to criticise or complain about, and plenty to praise. Even in the unpleasant first entry in Ho Chi Minh, it was the Vietnam Airlines girl at the Ha Noi check-in who shone through to brighten an otherwise dark day. As Vietnam opens its doors more and more to Western tourists, Vietnam Airlines produce a wonderful first and last contact experience, and I hope they continue to grow and foster their unique qualities.
I hope you've enjoyed reading this page and if you have, please go to the Archive on the top right of the screen, and read some of my other pages. And please feel free to use the buttons below to share them through your favorite Social Media. If you didn't enjoy it, I'd love to know why - constructive criticism is always welcome, so please feel free to comment.
Keith B Hamilton
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