Dragon boats and motorbikes

Tuesday 26 June

We only have one full day in Hue (pronounced Hway), Vietnam, and we have asked our hostel to sign us up for a private tour, which involves a trip on the Perfume River in a dragon boat, visiting some of Hue's ancient monuments,a Vietnamese lunch on the boat, and rides on motorbikes (to take us to the boat in the first place,and then, when the boat docks at the appropriate point on the riverbank, to take us from the boat to the relevant monument).

I haven't been on a motorbike in over 40 years, and the thought of riding on one through the streets of Hue, although probably not as dangerous as riding in Hanoi or Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon), fills me with apprehension. Reg and I will ride pillion; the hostel staff smilingly reassure us.

“Don't worry, madam! Motorbike riders very experienced. Will go very slowly!”

My helmet is in place, and I finally manage to straddle the bike and put my feet in the right place. My rider is a woman, and I grip her waist as she hurtles through the Hue traffic, skillfully avoiding pedestrians and other motorbike riders and cyclists who cross her path from the left, right, front and rear, overtaking on the inside and outside. It's only short ride to where the boat is docked, and I'm pleased to see that Reg has arrived in one piece as well.

It's called a dragon boat because the helm is a fierce dragon's head on a long, proud neck. The

helm is shaped so that when the boat needs to land, it can be manoeuvred neck-first on to the grassy riverbank; a wooden pole is then thrust into the bank and the boat tied securely to it.

We thank our motorbike drivers and climb aboard our dragon boat; the boat is owned and worked by an ancient Vietnamese couple. On our boat trip, the husband drives the boat, and the wife does the wooden-pole bit when they land. The couple have probably spent many years living on the river; this way of life seems to fit them like a glove.

The price of our tour today includes everything except any drinks we buy on the boat, and our entrance tickets to the various monuments. Once our dragon boat trip is underway, and we are enjoying the mix of sunshine and river breeze on our faces, the ancient boatwoman ( whose nimbleness and agility amaze us) starts to lay out an array of cheap souvenirs and trinkets on the floor of the boat. It hadn't occurred to us that this would happen; we should have expected it. We will be with this woman for a good few hours, and she is going to make us lunch on the boat; she is already plying us with ice-cold soft drinks at regular intervals, which we don't really mind as it's 37 º c today. But feeling obliged to buy trinkets wasn't in the plan today.

It's psychological warfare here; it's not even a “bartering atmosphere” and the boatwoman is probably charging over the odds. Not only can she manage a boat, she's a shrewd businesswoman as well. And trying to make the best living she can in a country where a large proportion of the population live in poverty, with no escape route.

The softie in us, and a feeling of obligation, makes us buy a few souvenirs; I feel a bit cross, whereas Reg says we've only spent a few pounds and it's par for the course – you just have to accept that these things are going to happen.

Some tourists have told us they don't like Vietnam because of the constant hassle from street vendors;

“Hello madam! You buy from me? Come see my shop, come look in my shop!”

“No thank you. No thank you.”

“Hello, sir! Where you from? I have pineapple for you, you buy lovely pineapple!”

“No thank you. No thank you.”

“Hello madam! Where you from? I have many things for you in my shop!”

“No thank you. No thank you.”

This constant barrage can get to you; Western people are not used to being hassled while they shop. But here it's part of daily life, in a country where there is vast competition in small commerce – many street vendors and small shops selling the same thing.

So far we've mostly managed to avoid buying unwanted items, although once or twice we've relented and bought a couple of small items when a particularly charming and persistent street vendor has approached us while we are eating in an open-air cafe. It's not so much that the only way to get rid of the seller is to buy something; it's more that a sense of guilt and shame washes over us, because we have so much and they work so hard just to eke out a living; and of course that's exactly how they intend to make us feel.

After a long ride down the river, the boat docks on the bank, and 2 different motorcyclists are there to take us “pillion” to our first monument, the “Ming Mang tomb”. What we love about this tomb are the water lilies on the lake, and the peaceful ambience of the place. I hadn't even realised that Vietnam, like China, had emperors and dynasties too.

We notice with all the ancient monuments we see today, that although restoration has taken place, it's not been done in the same way as the restored ancient monuments we saw in China; the Vietnamese ones have been more delicately restored, retaining the look and feel and charm of the original buildings. We only have 40 minutes at this ancient World Heritage site, before we are whisked off again by our motorbike riders; we would have liked to spend more time here. Reg and I are by this time more blasé about being pillion passengers, and really enjoy our ride through bumpy country lanes, to the next heritage site, the “Khai Dinh Tomb”.

The architecture is stunningly ornate, and outside this tomb, as at the previous site, is a small army of stone warriors, to guard the deceased emperor who is buried there. They remind us of the Terracotta Army in Xi'an, except that they weren't buried underground and there are only a few of them. The emperors planned the building of their tombs before their deaths; sometimes the emperor died before completion, in which case his body was moved to the tomb when it was ready.

Our last motorbike excursion for today returns us to the dragon boat, where the boat husband hand-cranks the boat engine to life (Reg says this means they don't need a battery) and we cruise towards our next monument. Eventually, we head towards the shore; the neck of the boat glides up the riverbank, and the boatwoman plunges in the pole.

We can walk to the “Tu Duc Tomb” from the river. The boatwoman tells us lunch will be ready on our return. The Vietnamese lunch is delicious, one of the best meals we've had in this country. We have a feast of traditional Vietnamese spring rolls, which are dipped in sauce, fresh fish, rice, vegetables and quiche – more than we can eat. Afterwards there's a soft yellow fruit we've never eaten before, which tastes a bit like a peach. We can't fault this lovely meal.

After lunch we travel back upriver towards Hue, noticing several water buffalo wallowing in the cool waters near the riverbank, just their heads showing above the surface; the boat stops for us to visit a pagoda, which is again near the river bank. Then we chug towards our last stop where we will leave the boat – the Imperial Palace or “Citadel” - where the emperors lived out their lives, as opposed to where their bodies were put when they died.

We wave goodbye to our dragon boat hosts from the river bank; we've thoroughly enjoyed our boat ride on the Perfume River, even if we have unexpectedly parted with some extra cash.

By the time we reach the Citadel I'm hot and tired and perspiration is sticking my hair to my head and my clothes to my body. Reg is keen to survey the Citadel; it has it's own “Forbidden City” where only the Emperor and his family were allowed. Reg wanders off to look around, while I sit in a shady corner and read my kindle. When he returns, Reg says that a lot of the Citadel has been destroyed, probably in the Vietnam war; it's currently under reconstruction.

After a light early evening meal, we return to the hostel, where the lovely receptionist takes pity on us and offers us ice-cold wet flannels; I feel better already. Then we settle our bill and pack up our luggage, ready for our 25 hour train trip to Ho Chi Minh City tomorrow morning. Our train will leave Hue at 5.30 am, and we both have top bunks, as that's all that was available. There won't be a ladder to the top bunks, just a little flap to put your foot on, halfway between the top and bottom bunks. Reg has climbed up loads of times, but this will be my first attempt.