Da Nang: Vietnam North to South Part 11

The Pleasures of a Coastal Drive to the City that, 45 Years Ago, Dominated the News

Hue to the Hai Van Pass

Vietnam

Tuesday morning was still a little misty after last week's tropical storm, but it was now warm and threatened to become warmer, perhaps even hot and sunny. Ten days ago we had flown north from the heat of Ho Chi Minh City and although we had remained south of the Tropic of Cancer, the weather had hardly been tropical. Drizzle, mist and overcast skies had followed us around and although it had been cold only in the far north, it had not been hot anywhere.

Dam Cau Hai Lagoon

We left Hue on Highway 1A, driving roughly southeast until we reached what looked like the sea but turned out to be a lagoon, Dam Cau Hai ('dam' means 'lagoon'). It does have a narrow outlet to the sea, but that was on the far side, some ten kilometres away and lost in the haze. The road descended to the shore and we could see that the warm, blue, shallow water was extensively used for farming shellfish.

Dam Cau Hai

Leaving the lagoon we passed a Christian graveyard. As a connoisseur of graveyards Lynne could not help noting the many differences from the Taoist graveyard we had seen on the road to Ha Long Bay.

Christian graveyard south of Dam Cau Hai

Dam Lap An

The road now ran due east towards the real coast for 15km before it swung south round the head of another lagoon, Dam Lap An. There was no danger of mistaking this one for the sea as it was to our right.

We paused to stretch our legs, photograph the lagoon…..

Dam Lap An

…. and these two ladies, who sat under an umbrella shucking oysters with remarkable speed and dexterity. That they both had a full complement of fingers was a tribute to that dexterity.

Oyster shuckers near An Cu

We drove down the spit dividing the lagoon from the sea, to the village of An Cu. From here Highway 1A crosses the narrow stretch of water at the tip of the spit on a modern bridge and heads straight for a tunnel under a spur of the inland mountain range which here stretches out to the coast. We took a smaller road across an older bridge, wiggled along the coast opposite the spit, and under Highway 1A and headed for the hills

An Cu with the lagoon to the left, open sea to the right and the Highway 1A bridge

The Hai Van Pass

We followed the older version of the highway, winding our way slowly up the 500m Hai Van (Ocean Cloud) Pass. In the Top Gear Vietnam Special Jeremy Clarkson described it as a deserted ribbon of perfection — one of the best coast roads in the world. I hate to agree with Jeremey Clarkson, but he was right except that it was hardly deserted; those who need to get somewhere use the tunnel, the tourists, all of them, go over the top

'A deserted ribbon of perfection', Hai Van Pass

In medieval times the pass marked the boundary between the Vietnamese Dai Viet kingdom to the north and the Champa kingdoms to the south. It ceased to be the boundary in the fifteenth century when the Vietnamese started their southward exspansion, but it remained an important strategic point and was fortified in turn by the Chinese, French and Americans.

Assorted Fortifications, Hai Van Pass

Descent into Da Nang

The city of Da Nang came into view as we descended the pass. There is no name more evocative of the news bulletins of the late 60s and early 70s than Da Nang and it was here, in March 1965, that American ground involvement started when the 3rd US Marine division landed on Red Beach.

Red Beach, Da Nang

Da Nang

They came originally to support the Da Nang airbase, but were soon involved in combat operations. By the end of the year there were 200,000 American troops in Vietnam and half a million by the winter of 1967. In 1954 the senate majority leader, William F. Knowland, had observed that ‘Using United States ground forces in the Indo-China jungle would be like trying to cover an elephant with a handkerchief.’ A lot of people went to a great deal of trouble to prove him right.

Da Nang is an ancient city, probably founded by the Champa at the end of the 3rd century AD. That it now has a population of 800,000 and is the fifth biggest city in Vietnam is largely a result of American involvement.

The Champa Museum, Da Nang

We stopped to visit the Champa Museum. The Champa arrived from Borneo in the 3rd century AD. A Hindu people, their power reached its zenith in the 9th and 10th centuries when they ruled central and southern Vietnam from the Hai Van Pass to the Mekong Delta, although it remains uncertain whether theirs was a single empire or a collection of competing kingdoms.

Eventually the Vietnamese started chipping away at Champa territory, annexing the area south of the Hai Van Pass (including Da Nang) in 1471, although it was not until 1832 that the last of the Champa lands were absorbed into Vietnam. Today about 100,000 Cham people remain in the southern part of their former domain. They still speak Cham, a Malayo-Polynesian language, and still practise Hinduism. [Other Cham converted to Islam. In 2014 we encountered Muslim Cham at Chau Doc in the Mekong Delta near the Cambodian border. Battles between the Khmer and the Cham are the subject of many carvings at Angkor Wat and neighbouring temples]

The small but well organised museum has a wealth of statues. Some look very Indian, like this statue of Ganesh…..

Ganesh, Champa Museum, Da Nang

….others show a strong Buddhist influence….

Champa Museum, Da Nang

….while others seem Chinese in style.

Champa Museum, Da Nang

Dinner at the Apsara Restautant, Da Nang

Lunch was at the nearby Apsara Restaurant which was doing good business with both foreigners and locals. Disappointingly it was another set meal - restaurants tend to play safe with these and after a while they become a little samey - but the quality was good and they were determined that we would not leave hungry. We did justice to the tapioca noodles stuffed with pork and prawns, fried spring rolls with more prawns, sautéed beef (with French Fries!), grilled pork with spices, fried rice with shrimps and finally watermelon.

China Beach and Da Nang Airbase and Civilian Airport

The wide roads on which we resumed our southward journey are another legacy of the American occupation. To our left was China Beach, much used by the Americans for R & R. Minh said that in his (post-war) youth it had been a palm fringed sandy beach open to all, but now most of the palms have been replaced by buildings, and the beach is being carved up by ‘resort hotels’ as Da Nang, already an important port, aspires to become a holiday resort as well.

Da Nang's wide streets

To our right was the wall of the Da Nang airbase with hangars clearly visible behind it. Originally a French base, it was handed over to the South Vietnamese in 1955 and the first Americans arrived in 1961. It would become the major American airbase in Vietnam, at its peak handling over 2500 air operations daily, which at the time made it the world’s busiest airport.

Hangars, Da Nang Airbase

It remains a Vietnamese military airbase, but is also the city’s civil airport. We would return there on Thursday to fly to Ho Chi Minh City. Unlike Hue’s tiny airport with its single baggage carousel Da Nang has a large modern terminal with rows of check-in desks, only one of which was open. We passed through security into a cavernous departure lounge capable of handling a dozen flights simultaneously. The only people there were the hundred or so waiting for our flight. It would be our third internal flight and, like the others, the passengers were almost entirely western tourists. If they had to rely on local travellers Vietnam Airlines could replace their internal flights with a taxi.

As we waited, three single-seater jets took off – I thought they were aged Soviet built MiGs but I am certainly no expert. Fifteen minutes later our plane, the only civilian airliner in the airport, pushed back on time, but we had to wait at the end of the runway for the MiGs to return. They seemed flimsy vehicles to land at such high speed on such spindly legs.

Marble Mountain

South of the airport we drove towards the landmark of ‘Marble Mountain’.

Marble Mountain, Da Nang

Myth relates that the turtle god laid an egg on the shore, and the nymph that emerged broke the shell into five pieces which became the five peaks of the mountain. So much of it has been quarried away that it is difficult to tell how many peaks it once had. The marble for Ho Chi Minh’s tomb comes from here but quarrying has since been stopped. There does, however, seem to be plenty stockpiled in the workshop we visited.

Marble workshop, Da Nang

Like the wood-carver in Hue their equipment seemed ill-designed for delicate work but, without any noticeable plan, the sculptors produced wonders with apparent ease.

End product, Marble Mountain, Da Nang

As the possibility of fitting a substantial piece of marble into our hand luggage was small, we left them to it and continued south towards Hoi An, a UNESCO World Heritage Site and the subject of the next post…..

Vietnam North to South

Prelude: Raybans in Heathrow and Saigon

Part 1: Hanoi (1) Ethnic Minorities, The Old City and Water Puppets

Part 2: Hanoi (2) Bat Trang, Quan Ho Music and Fighting Cocks

Part 3: Ha Long Bay

Part 4: Lao Cai, Coc Ly Market and Sa Pa

Part 5:Trekking from Sa Pa (1), Sa Pa to Ta Van

Part 6: Trekking from Sa Pa (2) Ta Van to Ban Den

Part 7: Trekking from Sa Pa (3), Around Ban Den then back to Hanoi

Part 8: Hanoi (3), The Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum and the Temple of Literature

Part 9: Hue (1), The Citadel, The Battle of Hue 1968 and Some New Things to Eat

Part 10: Hue (2), A self-Immolating Monk, an Impotent Emperor and Imperial Dinner

Part 11: Da Nang

Part 12: Hoi An and My Son

Part 13:Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon)

Part 14: The Mekong Delta (1), Can Bei and a Cornucopia of Fruit

Part 15: The Mekong Delta (2), To Vinh Long and Can Tho

Part 16: The Mekong Delta (3): Cai Rang and My Tho

Part 17: The Cu Chi Tunnels and the Cao Dai Gret Temple

THE END

Hue (2), A Self-Sacrificing Monk, an Impotent Emperor and an Imperial Dinner: Vietnam North to South Part 10

A Garden House, The Thien Mu Pagoda, Tu Duc's 'Modest' Mausoleum and an Impressive Dinner

An Hien Garden House, Hue

Vietnam

Lynne tells me it was pouring with rain at 5 am but by the time we surfaced it may not have been the finest morning Hue has ever seen, but it did at least give grounds for optimism.

We set off at 9 with Vinh for a full morning’s sightseeing.

Once Gia Long had established his Imperial City, the rich and powerful queued up to build their own houses nearby. A line of these ‘Garden Houses’ stretches along the road beside the Perfume River upstream from the citadel.

The roadside entrance to An Hien is discreet. A tree lined path leads through a garden up to the house. In design it is not dissimilar to the more modest dwelling in Ta Van where we stayed with Tuonz and his family, but the setting and materials used are very different.

A tree lined path leads up from the road. An Hien, Hue

Both are single storey dwellings where the front can be almost entirely opened. In Tuonz’s house the rough wooden doors opened onto a concrete yard, at An Hien mahogany panels slide back to give a view of a water lily covered pond.

An Hien and its lily covered pool, Hue

Mahogany pillars and intricately carved and gilded mahogany panels (Tuonz favoured hardboard) surrounded the ancestor’s altar. Ancestor worship, Vinh said, binds all Vietnamese together, whether Buddhist, Daoist or Animist. Even the houses of Catholics, he claimed, would have an ancestor altar.

Carved Panel, An Hien

On the altar were photographs of deceased family members, and candles, flowers and fruit were laid out as offerings. To the side, a statue of Buddha stood on its own small altar. On the wall was a family tree, the Chinese characters written in gold-leaf.

Ancestor's Altar with the family tree in Chinese characters to the left, An Hien

On the left is a room with a table and chairs to welcome visitors. The house is still owned and occupied by the descendants of the courtier who built it, so our visit was limited to the public areas.

To the side and back is a beautifully tended garden with trees bearing jackfruit, fig, persimmon, coconut, durian, papaya, pomelo, lemon, banana and mangosteen. It was clearly laid out by a fruit lover, but there was no sign of yesterday’s mystery non-apple [Hue (1) at end of post].

Among the fruit trees, An Hien, Hue

Thien Mu Pagoda, Hue

A kilometre or so further up the road we came to the Thien Mu Pagoda, built in 1601 by the Nguyen lords when they were merely local governors, not emperors. In Vietnam ‘pagoda’ refers to the whole temple and monastery complex, not to a particular tower-like building. The Phuoc Duyen Tower, which corresponds more to our idea of a pagoda, was added in 1844 and has become the unofficial symbol of Hue.

Phuoc Duyen Tower, Thien Mu Pagoda

The complex is popular with western tourists and locals, but once we got away from the busloads of teenagers on school outings, we found it a quiet and peaceful place.

Novice Monk, Thien Mu Pagoda, Hue

The Story of Thích Quàng Đúc

The shrine of Thich Quang Duc on the corner where he died
Ho Chi Minh City

One of the stranger exhibits is an aged Austin Westminster car. The monastery had a tradition of political activity dating back to colonial times. After the French left, South Vietnam was ruled by the autocratic Ngo Dinh Diem. President Ngo (family names come first in Vietnam), was a member of the Catholic minority (some 10% of the population), and set out to ensure that all positions of power were in Catholic hands. Angered by the persecution of Buddhists, Thích Quàng Đúc, the abbot of Thien Mu, drove to Saigon in this very Austin. On the 11th of June 1963, after notifying the foreign press that “something important” would happen, he drove to a major road intersection where he sat in the lotus position while another monk poured petrol over him. He then set himself alight. Few journalists turned up – the “Buddhist crisis” was no longer news - but two who did were David Halberstam of the New York Times and photographer Malcolm Browne. Browne’s picture of the event was World Press Photo of the Year 1963. I will not reproduce it here, but it can be seen by clicking this link. Halberstam wrote “…as he burned he never moved a muscle, never uttered a sound, his outward composure in sharp contrast to the wailing of the people around him…”

Thich Quang Duc's Austin Westminster

Though I cannot applaud hi0 saction, no one can doubt Thích Quàng Đúc’s bravery and commitment. His protest was also partially effective as, under pressure from his American supporters, President Ngo quickly announced a series of reforms. He stalled on their introduction but was killed in November 1963 in the military coup which overthrew his government.

Over fifty Buddhist monks have burned themselves to death this year in Tibet, protesting against the Chinese treatment of their country. When the act becomes a commonplace - and there is no top class press photographer in attendance - the process becomes sadly and very painfully self-defeating.

A Boat up the Perfume River

Leaving the pagoda in a thoughtful mood, we crossed the road to the riverbank and embarked on a boat for a half hour trip upstream. The Perfume River is wide, slow moving and only 30 km long, being formed by the confluence of two streams flowing out of the Day Truong Son mountains. Orchids are swept downstream in autumn, and the waters smell of their perfume. Romantics may believe that, but the name more probably derives from the river being used to transport sandalwood from the interior to the markets of Hue. Today most of the river boats carry sand and gravel, dredged up from the river bed, for use in building. There is, as far as I know, no move to rename it the Concrete River.

Carrying gravel down the Perfume River

After a pleasant cruise, though the weather was still misty and fairly cool, we moored at a landing stage apparently in the middle of nowhere. Following a path through the forest for a few hundred metres brought us onto a road where we found our driver waiting patiently to ferry us to the mausoleum of Tu Duc.

Our boat leaves us in what appears to be the middle of nowhere

The Tu Duc Mausoleum, near Hue

Tu Duc, the fourth of the Nguyen emperors, occupied the throne from 1847 to 1883. Although his was the dynasty’s longest reign, he was not a successful emperor and had the misfortune to rule at a time of irresistible pressure from the incoming French colonialists.

Like most of the Nguyen emperors, he built himself an impressive mausoleum between the river and the surrounding hills. Selecting an appropriate site was a task for the court astrologers, and once found it was adorned with artificial lakes, waterfalls and hills to create a garden setting. As well as being an eventual place of burial it served as rural retreat from the bustle of the imperial court.

The Vu Khiem Gate, Xung Khiem Pavilion and Luu Khiem Lake at Tu Duc's Mausoleum

The Vu Khiem Gate, Tu Duc's Mausoleum, Hue

Entering through the Vu Khiem gate gives an immediate view of the attractive Xung Khiem Pavilion beside the Luu Khiem Lake. Tu Duc preferred to sit here, drinking wine and writing poetry rather than wrestling with the affairs of state. The word ‘Khiem’ which appears in the name of the gate, lake, pavilion, temple and royal residence means ‘modest’; its continuous use sounds like trying too hard. He lived in his mausoleum for the last sixteen years of his reign, but despite his preference for gentle pursuits there is evidence that he had a mean and vindictive streak.

Xung Khiem Pavilion, Mausoleum of Tu Duc, Hue

Tu Duc’s greatest problem was that despite having 104 wives and a small village of concubines he had no issue. It would seem a teenage bout of mumps (or smallpox - sources differ) was the root cause rather than lack of attention to his horizontal duties.

The grave of Tu Duc, Hue

One of the most important functions of an emperor is to produce an heir and his failure made him increasingly embittered. Every mausoleum contains a stele on which the king’s biography is recorded. It is traditionally written by his eldest son, but poor Tu Duc had to write his own. Perhaps significantly, his stele bears the longest obituary of all the Nguyen monarchs.

Tu Duc's stele-house

Lunch at the Mandarin Café, Hue

We drove back to Hue for lunch at the Mandarin Café, ‘a leading light in Hue’s backpacker business’, according to the Rough Guide. Mr Cu, the proprietor, fancies himself as a photographer and his pictures cover the walls. While waiting for your meal you are invited to look through his catalogue and purchases can be made. There are some striking images, but he is an enthusiastic amateur (I should criticise!) rather than a professional photographer. His food, though, was excellent. We had banh khoai pancakes again – it is compulsory in Hue – pork and beansprouts, spring rolls, sweet and sour crispy pork, gently steamed squid with a memorable ginger dipping sauce, cabbage and morning glory.

The Mandarin Café, Hue

An Afternoon in Hue

Left to our own devices in the afternoon we walked back to the central part of the ‘European City’, passing Quoc Hoc High School on the way. Founded in 1896 to teach royal princes and future administrators how to be French, its most famous former students are Ho Chi Minh, who was expelled for political agitation, and Ngo Dinh Diem, the future president who so upset Thích Quàng Đúc.

Outside the school a young man on a scooter knocked a girl off her bicycle. There was a clatter and some constgrenation among the bystanders, ourselves included, but fortunately most of the damage was to the patricipants' dignity.

In the centre we watched a man using an electric sander to carve a Buddha from a tree stump. Despite his unwieldy instrument, the delicacy of the carving was remarkable.

Carving a Buddha with an elctric sander, Hue

The sun was now shining and the day had warmed up considerably, so it seemed reasonable to pause for a beer at the Octopussy Restaurant – not a good name, I thought, and almost certainly a copyright infringement.

A beer (and a coffee), Octopussy Restaurant, Hue

Then I went in search of a T-shirt, but the largest size I could find was XXXXL, which I could not quite get over my head. Clothing in Vietnam is cheap and travellers are often advised to take very little and buy as they go, though 'sufficiently large sizes of shoes, women’s swimwear and brassieres are unlikely to be available'. In my case this also applies, I discovered, to shirts and trousers, so I am glad we did not take that advice. My feet are a modest size 9½ (US 10, European 44) but my sandals certainly looked vast by local standards. Ironically, although they were bought in Stafford, they were made in Vietnam.

An Imperial Dinner at the Placid Garden Manor Restaurant, Hue

In the evening we were driven to another section of garden houses on the eastern edge of the citadel. Alighting in a narrow road lined with such houses we discovered that one is now a karaoke bar and we were treated to the sound of possibly the world’s worst karaoke singer – and yes, I know how stiff the competition is. Opposite is the Placid Garden Manor Restaurant (perhaps the name loses something in translation) which specialises in reproducing the cuisine of the imperial palace. Here we settled down for an evening of courtly elegance at one of the half dozen tables set out on the terrace of the old house. Fortunately, garden houses have long drives, so the cacophonous karaoke had faded mercifully into the distance.

The Placid Garden Manor Restaurant, Hue

The 8 course menu is worth recording

1) Dance of the Phoenix. The food element was paté, the French influence even affected the imperial court.

Dance of the Phoenix, Placid Garden Manor Restaurant, Hue

2);Pineapple Lantern. Assorted appetizers

3) Surprise soup of Hue. A glutinous chicken soup.

4) Spring roll in the form of a Peacock

Spring rolls in the form of a peacock
Placid Garden Manor Restaurant, Hue

5) Steamed Prawns.

Steamed Prawns
Placid Garden Manor Restaurant, Hue

6) Sweet and sour papaya in the form of a dragon

Sweet and Sour Papaya in the form of a Dragon
Placid Garden Manor Restaurant, Hue

7) Fried rice in the form of a turtle

Fried Rice in the form of a Turtle
Placid Garden Manor Restaurant, Hue

8) Fruits made from bean paste.

Fruits made from Bean Paste
Placid Garden Manor Restaurant, Hue

After many years as a French colony Vietnam, inevitably, produces some wine. The main vineyard area surrounds Dalat in the southern highlands and our bottle of Dalat red was pleasant if a little thin, the grapes being helped out with the addition of mulberries. I would not go out of my way to drink it again, but it provided a welcome change from beer.

It was a memorable evening, though the presentation of the dishes was perhaps more exciting than the food itself.

Vietnam North to South

Prelude: Raybans in Heathrow and Saigon

Part 1: Hanoi (1) Ethnic Minorities, The Old City and Water Puppets

Part 2: Hanoi (2) Bat Trang, Quan Ho Music and Fighting Cocks

Part 3: Ha Long Bay

Part 4: Lao Cai, Coc Ly Market and Sa Pa

Part 5:Trekking from Sa Pa (1), Sa Pa to Ta Van

Part 6: Trekking from Sa Pa (2) Ta Van to Ban Den

Part 7: Trekking from Sa Pa (3), Around Ban Den then back to Hanoi

Part 8: Hanoi (3), The Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum and the Temple of Literature

Part 9: Hue (1), The Citadel, The Battle of Hue 1968 and Some New Things to Eat

Part 10: Hue (2), A self-Immolating Monk, an Impotent Emperor and Imperial Dinner

Part 11: Da Nang

Part 12: Hoi An and My Son

Part 13:Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon)

Part 14: The Mekong Delta (1), Can Bei and a Cornucopia of Fruit

Part 15: The Mekong Delta (2), To Vinh Long and Can Tho

Part 16: The Mekong Delta (3): Cai Rang and My Tho

Part 17: The Cu Chi Tunnels and the Cao Dai Gret Temple

THE END

Hue (1): The Citadel, The Battle of Hue 1968 and Some New Things to Eat: Vietnam North to South Part 9

An Imperial City, a Major Battle of the Vietnam/American War and Unknown Fruits

01-Apr-2012

Arriving in Hue

Vietnam

The weather in Hanoi, and the north generally, had often been cool and always been cloudy. Flying more than an hour south should have solved that problem but the weather gods had it in for us. On our last day in Hanoi CNN informed us that the first tropical storm of the season had arrived six weeks early and was battering its way through Ho Chi Minh City. Hue is 600km north of Ho Chi Minh, just close enough to catch the edge. Drizzle and a temperature of barely 20 degrees greeted our arrival at Hue’s tiny airport.

We were met by Vinh and his driver, Mr Thi, who whisked us off in the direction of the Imperial City. We pointed out that we had not yet had lunch. Vinh consulted his documentation. ‘Lunch is not on your programme,’ he said. We suggested that meant he did not pay for it, not that we did not eat it. ‘You did not eat on the plane?’ Vietnamese Airlines in-flight service, we told him, consisted of one small bottle of water.

Lunch in the Nha Hang Long Restaurant, Hue

Vinh said a few words to Mr Thi and we almost immediately pulled in at the Nha Hang Hoa Long restaurant. Pleasantly situated on the southern edge of the city and surrounded by trailing greenery it looked an attractive prospect.

Banh khoai is a small, yellow, rice-flour pancake folded round prawns (tom), pork (thit) and bean sprouts and then fried until it is crispy. Tom Thit is a common combination in Vietnamese cooking and banh khoai is a traditional Hue way of serving it. Dipped in a peanut and sesame sauce it provided an excellent light lunch and we were soon back on track for the Imperial City.

Hue is correctly written Huế. Vietnamese has six tones so each syllable requires a tone mark and in addition many vowels also sport a diacritic so the written language has a lacy frieze of hooks, hats and slashes. The ê indicates an ‘-ay’ sound, similar to a French é, while the acute above it indicates the ‘high rising tone’ (don’t ask).

Hue, as I shall lazily write it, has lots of wide, tree-lined streets, many fewer motorcycles than Hanoi and many more bicycles, giving it a more relaxed feel.

The Citadel, Hue

We drove through the so-called ‘European city’ - narrow streets packed with busy shops, bars and restaurants - crossed the Perfume River and approached the flag tower of the citadel.

The Flag Tower of the Citadel, Hue

The Origins of the Citadel and the Imperial City, Hue

In 1802 Gia Long seized the imperial throne, established the Nguyen Dynasty and moved the national capital to Hue. It remained the capital until 1945 when Bao Dai, the last Nguyen emperor, was deposed. Since 1883 the dynasty had survived by (and despite) acquiescing to French rule, but Bao Dai’s willingness to be a puppet ruler on behalf of the Japanese invader was the last straw.

In 1805 an auspicious site had been selected facing the river and Gia Long set about building his citadel, a vast moated enclosure with an 8km perimeter wall. Inside the citadel was the Imperial City. A kilometre square, the city contained administrative offices, parks and dynastic temples. Within the city was the royal palace, the Forbidden Purple City.

Approaching the Imperial City, Hue

If that had been the whole story, then what we would have visited some interesting, though not very old, buildings constructed by a relatively short lived dynasty using a well-established Chinese template.

Vinh thinks I am looking the wrong way, Imperial City, Hue

The Citadel and the 1968 'Tet Offensive'

But that is not the whole story. On the 30th of January 1968, the first day of Tet, the month of the lunar new year, the North Vietnamese launched a series of attacks on more than a hundred towns and cities throughout the south. The biggest and bloodiest engagement of the Tet offensive was the month long Battle of Hue.

At 2.30 in the morning the Viet Cong and North Vietnamese army attacked the American headquarters south of the Perfume River, Tay Loc airfield to the north and the headquarters of the 1st Division of the South Vietnamese Army inside the citadel.

Gardens within the Imperial City, Hue

Hue is situated on Highway 1 where it crosses the Perfume River. Despites its strategic importance – the highway was the main supply route from the American bases at Da Nang to the misnamed Demilitarized Zone 50km to the north - it was surprisingly lightly defended. By 8 o’clock the citadel was in North Vietnamese hands and they went on to take most of the city.

The Nine Dynastic Urns, Imperial City, Hue

The North Vietnamese knew they would eventually be pushed out, but their orders were to hold Hue as long as possible. It took the South Vietnamese and Americans three weeks to fight their way through the city street by street. It took them a further week to fight their way into the citadel, finally hauling down the North Vietnamese flag on the 29th of February.

War damaged urn, Imperial City, Hue

When it was all over between 2500 and 8000 North Vietnamese were dead, depending on whose figures you believe, along with over 200 Americans and 450 South Vietnamese soldiers. Many thousands more were injured. The asymmetry in the casualties was caused by American artillery and air power. They reduced the Citadel and the Imperial City to piles of body-strewn rubble but still the North Vietnamese defenders put up a stubborn resistance

Inside the Imperial City, Hue

6000 civilians also died, the Americans acknowledged that some 2000 of them were ‘collateral damage’, the North Vietnamese admitted executing over 2000 ‘administrators, policemen and tyrants’ and the South Vietnamese murdered a substantial number of ‘collaborators’ afterwards. 116,000 of the city’s population of 190,000 were left homeless.

‘In order to save the city,’ as US marine Captain Myron Harrington observed, ‘it was necessary to destroy the city.’

Inside the Imperial City, Hue

From a military point of view the battle is regarded as an American victory, though as it restored the status quo ante perhaps it should be declared a draw. In terms of propaganda and morale it was an overwhelming victory for the North Vietnamese. The American causalities, though light by comparison with the other participants, were heavy relative to the number of troops they deployed. This was, arguably, the turning point in American public support for the war.

Restored Gate
Imperial City, Hue

Lynne and I were both 17 in February 1968. Watching it unfold on television news, we were old enough to be appalled, but there was little we could do, and anyway it could hardly affect our everyday lives. There were anti-war demonstrations, though I never participated, partly because I was, and remain, unconvinced that demonstrations achieve anything, and partly because I was too young and naïve to understand how profoundly wrong the American intervention was. Had I been American no doubt the threat of the draft would have concentrated my mind powerfully. Harold Wilson, we learned many years later, came under pressure from Lyndon Johnson to send a token battalion or two, if only for propaganda purposes. Wilson is not highly regarded these days, but he got that one right - shame he was not available to advise Tony Blair.

Rebuilt roof, Forbidden City, Hue

Had I been Vietnamese, on the other hand, I would not have had to wait on the lottery of the draft to find out if I was going to be involved. February 1968 apart, the Americans and South Vietnamese held the cities and controlled the countryside by day but the Viet Cong controlled the countryside by night. Both sides were looking for recruits, not necessarily volunteers. Our guide Vinh’s father avoided conscription but three of his brothers were in the South Vietnamese army while the fourth was in the army of the North. Happily all survived and the family is now reunited.

Vinh himself was born during the Tet offensive. His father was a baker in Hue and, unlike the American High Command, was aware that something was going to happen. He took his young family and heavily pregnant wife to the relative safety of Da Nang, where the family still live.

The Forbidden City, Hue

American/Vietnamese relations are now reasonably good and there is an American presence among the tourist throng. Vinh was not the only one of our guides who had worked with Americans, in particular former soldiers who felt a need to revisit their old haunts. Understandably, many of these men come back to face their personal demons. The Vietnamese are sympathetic to that, but more than one of our guides said that he was saddened by returning soldiers inability or unwillingness to look beyond their own suffering and that of their compatriots. The deaths of 58,000 Americans in a futile attempt to save Vietnam from the Vietnamese* was tragic (in the full sense of the word). The American involvement prolonged what would otherwise have been a short, albeit brutal, civil war by ten years. That prolongation, and the enormous - and indiscriminately applied - American fire power and chemical weaponry resulted in the deaths of between 1.5 and 2 million Vietnamese. That was a tragedy on a far greater scale, but according to the Vietnamese we spoke to, too many Americans still do not get it.

In his autobiography ‘Unreasonable Behaviour’, the British photographer Don McCullin, who produced some of the most memorable images of the conflict, wrote: “Years later I went back to Hue and walked through that battleground, where I had been so close to death, where I felt I was death’s permanent companion. It seemed so inconsequential, the whole thing. Those men who died, and those men who were maimed for life, went through all that, and it was totally futile, as all wars are known to be. Without profit, without horizons, without joy.”

Shell shocked US Marine, Hue
Perhaps Don McCullin's best known Vietnam picture

We had spent more than two hours among beautiful old, or restored, or reconstructed buildings, but, as the photographs above have shown, the damaged and unrestored stood alongside. At the start, as we approached the Ngo Mon gate, Vinh had opened his folder and produced a well-thumbed photograph showing two marines running across the space that in my photograph below is filled by a temporary stage for a forthcoming festival. The marines were moving quickly, expecting to come under fire, the gate’s superstructure was broken and shattered. Afterwards I found it impossible to divorce what we were seeing from the devastation of 1968 and it was almost a relief to finally leave the Citadel and head to the Dong Ba market.

Ngo Mon Gate to The Citadel
Hue

Dong Ba Market

The covered market next to the bus station is a typical bustling Southeast Asian market. It is all about life, or an aspect of life anyway, which is an improvement on death.

Dong Ba Market, Hue

Some Unusual Fruit

The fruit stalls spilled outside, as fruit stalls often do. Among the unfamiliar offerings were dark green fruits which looked exactly like oranges, except for the colour. When cut open they turned out to be….well… oranges, the difference, as with human beings, was only skin deep. If oranges had been green in the west, the whole history of Northern Ireland would have been different.

Another fruit we encountered was this one….

Mystery Fruit, Hue

The shape and size of a pear, it was coloured like an apple but with a slightly waxy skin, and with a recessed base with four divisions like a quince. There was one in the fruit basket at our hotel, so in the interests or research we peeled it and ate it. We decided, though without much conviction, that it was an apple. What it really was we found out when we reached the Mekong delta. For the moment it remained a mystery - though the impatient may click the link and scroll down for all to be revealed.

Dinner and Breakfast and More Previously Unknown Foodstuffs

The evening was filled with steady drizzle. Rather than travelling the mile or so to the restaurant quarter we decided to eat in our hotel. The last time we did this was in 2010 in Rongjiang in Southern China. It was a mistake then, it was a mistake now.

In a vast, almost empty dining room, we were seated and then ignored. Eventually somebody took an order. Then a tour party arrived. They were finishing their set meal when dinner at last turned up for us. I was presented with a plate of duck meat marinated in ginger and lemon grass. It was excellent, but that was all there was. Something should have been said when I ordered it. That might have been an unreasonable expectation in a local café, but in a four star hotel catering mainly for western tourists…..

02-Apr-2012

At breakfast the room was more crowded and the waiting staff much keener to help, in fact too keen. We placed our tea and fruit juice on our chosen table and set off to explore the extensive buffet. By the time we returned our tea and juice had been cleared. Lynne thought it prudent to stand guard over our breakfasts while I fetched replacements.

They did, however, supply us with two foods we had never eaten before. Sapodilla is a fruit native to Central America and the Caribbean, though it is now grown widely throughout the tropics. Only ripening when picked and outwardly looking vaguely like a potato, its sweet brown-tinged flesh has the texture of a pear and a pleasing, caramel-like flavour. Gracilaria is an algae which is widespread throughout the world and is cultivated as a food in Japan and the Philippines. The dark cubes of gracilaria jelly on the breakfast buffet were slightly sweet but with little other flavour. I am not sure how you eat them or what you should eat them with, but I suspect they are full of something which does you good. There would be no point otherwise.

Thus fortified we set of with Vinh for a full day’s sightseeing….

*Lyndon Johnson told the nation
Have no fear of escalation
I am trying everyone to please
Though it isn't really war
We're sending fifty thousand more
To help save Vietnam from Vietnamese

(Tom Paxton, 1965)

Vietnam North to South

Prelude: Raybans in Heathrow and Saigon
Part 1: Hanoi (1) Ethnic Minorities, The Old City and Water Puppets
Part 2: Hanoi (2) Bat Trang, Quan Ho Music and Fighting Cocks
Part 3: Ha Long Bay
Part 4: Lao Cai, Coc Ly Market and Sa Pa
Part 5: Trekking from Sa Pa (1), Sa Pa to Ta Van
Part 6: Trekking from Sa Pa (2) Ta Van to Ban Den
Part 7: Trekking from Sa Pa (3), Around Ban Den then back to Hanoi
Part 8: Hanoi (3), The Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum and the Temple of Literature
Part 9: Hue (1), The Citadel, The Battle of Hue 1968 and Some New Things to Eat
Part 10: Hue (2), A Self-Immolating Monk, an Impotent Emperor and Imperial Dinner
Part 11: Da Nang
Part 12: Hoi An and My Son
Part 13: Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon)
Part 14: The Mekong Delta (1), Can Bei and a Cornucopia of Fruit
Part 15: The Mekong Delta (2), To Vinh Long and Can Tho
Part 16: The Mekong Delta (3): Cai Rang and My Tho
Part 17: The Cu Chi Tunnels and the Cao Dai Great Temple

THE END