Not Online

A combination of events in three countries and four locations have conspired to make this a brief post.

First, on Friday evening, my broadband was down. Then I tried to upload an entry from Heathrow, but the machine would not let me upload (neither would it let me send a leter of complaint!). Then the Wifi wouldn't connect in the Plaza Lounge in Hong Kong Airport (although I did write an extensive entry). And, finally, my broadband connection in my ropom here at the Sofitel Plaza Hanoi doesn't want to play. Someone should be looking into it real soon now.

So, no chance to upload photos yet (not that I have taken many), as I am restricted to the free machine in the Sofitel Club Lounge. Theoretically there's a wifi access point here (in the ounge) but, given my failure in Hong Kong, I'm not too optimistic about bringing my machine here to try it out.

I wrote a long post while waiting for my plane in Hong Kong, which I may edit and append to this, if I finally get my machine online.

24 hours door to door, by the way, and I've finally got some Dong in my pocket, which means that I won't look like a millionaire any more, despatcing five-dollar tips (foolishly I came out without any singles. How did that happen, considering I accumulate bucketfuls of them in Vegas?) as they were petty cash.

Still, at least it seemed to get the desk staff on-side.

PJ

Geekism is universal

So, I get back from a two-hour walk in humidity that I am not used to, have a shower, and hear the telephone ring. "Mr Birks? We are coming to fix your broadband connection".

I had been planning on heading to the lounge for the free non-alcoholic drinks happy two hours, but instead I had the joy of watching two people attempt to fix my laptop, which, to be honest, I would happily throw through the window.

The connection in the room is fine. We worked that out as soon as the spare laptop ws plugged in and the nice yellow light started blinking.

On my laptop, nothing. Well, not quite nothing, because the connection is working. But the TCP/IP bit isn't. When we look at DNS Address and IP Address, it says "unavailable".

And thus, as is the way with computer-related matters when IT people are involved (or not involved), an hour was wasted with no progress being made.

So, I brought the machine down to the lounge and plugged in the wireless connection. And, guess what, no connection (as was the problem in Hong Kong). So, it's nothing to do with the hardware. There's something odd going on in the software, but I'm buggered if I can figure out what it is. And neither could our Vietnamese IT guys, despite the fact that one of them spent twenty minutes talking to HIS boss, presumably the head of all IT in Vietnam.

I vaguely recall something similar happening on my main computer a few years ago, and I only got round it (eventually), by typing in the IP address manually.


+++++

This hotel is not as far away from the centre of the city as I thought, although I guess it is about half an hour's walk. Everyone in Hanoi travels by small motorbike and would not dream of walking for half an hour, mainly because the humidity necessitates wering light clothing and flip-flops (no socks) which are not good clothes for walking. Honda must have made a killing here. The net result of this is that, as a walking tourist, you are consistently assailed with offers of a motorbike cab, one of the standard means of transport. When you tell them that you WANT to walk, they smile with that knowing grin of "ahh, mad foreigner".

I wish I could upload some pics, because that would give you a better idea of things. There is a constant feeling of familiarity and alienation. Crossing the road is often a matter of gritting your teeth and praying that the oncoming bikes will miss you. I'm glad that I'm from London, where you have some idea of how it works. However, at one crossing, I was stumped for a good couple of minutes, until one of the chaps who had offered me a mototbike ride, said "Go! Go!" presumably assuming that, if I failed to follow his advice, there would be a newspaper headline of a mad foreigner dying of old age while trying to cross the road. So, I went, ducking and diving like a good'un in some weird impersonation of a video game where, if you lost a life, you probably lost a life. I made it to the other side.

Hanoi retains something of an early to bed and early to rise philosophy. It gets dark around 6pm and the shops start shutting up. The restaurants don't tend to stay open that late either. Part of this may be due to the perpetual power shortage in Vietnam, but I suspect another part might be linked to the good old Vietnam War, when Hanoi hardly wanted to keep itself lit up at night.

After escaping the shopping quarter )(without summoning up the courage to bargain for anything, although I will have to tomorrow, if I don't want to run out of clothes), I observed several games of street badminton -- clearly a favourite in Vietnam, and a couple of guys playing what I can only call "kick badminton" -- an odd mixture of volleyball and football, but played with a shuttlecock.

On the way back, via the bridge across the West Lake, I espied the opportunity to partake of "Swans Trampling On Water", which turned out to be pedalos in the shape of a swan.

What struck me about Hanoi is that a large percentage of the population seem to be scraping a living whatever which way - bars selling beer that are little more than a couple of upturned beer crates and a small table on the pavement. In fact the pavements are frequently impassible because of bars, motorbikes, or whatever. There's far less distinct delineation between "in" and "out" Homes have balconies that slowly become living rooms. Shops have deep dark backs, and yet do most of their business at the front.

While scratching their living, people seem to spend time talking to their friends. But you do have to wonder at the level of poverty in the countryside if it's worth the while of someone to walk the streets selling a few fruit. Their income can't be much more than a couple of bucks a day.

After the long walk to drenchdom, it was back to the hotel, shirt bespattered with sweat. I actually weighed myself before going out and after coming back, and I lost four pounds in two hours.

So, the body clock is still messed up, and I don't fancy spending $20 on a meal downstairs. Neither can I really face going outside again. Richard Herring writes about the misery of being alone in hotels when on tour, but at least he can drink a few beers in the bar, whereas I would be restricted to diet cokes or something equally disgusting. Compared with that, reading a book in bed seems positively enervating.

That said, I feel okay, just guilty about hiding in a hotel room when I should be "out there, discovering the city". Christ, why should I feel guilty about it? God knows, but I do.

What are the chances of my laptop getting connected before I check out of the room? I'd put it at less than 50%.


(Later)


Yes, we have hotel room lift-off. As suspected, for some reason the computer was not automaticaly detecting the IP and DNS Server address. As not suspected, the connection takes place even though my "broadband connection" remains disconnected. No, I don't understand it either. I shall probably have fun with this machine when I get back to my own broadband connection (assuming, of course, that that conection is restored when I get back home).

So, can I upload some pictures?

Well, no. Not via my usual means (tinypic). This is because Tinypic informs me that uploading from Vietnam is impossible because "this country has violated our terms of service". Makes you wonder what must have happened for an entire country to be banned.

I may seek out alternative routes.

Meanwhile, I'm going walkies.

Oh, and breakfast was very nice, TYVM.


(Later Still)

Yes, I think I've found a getaround. I can only seem to get the pictures at 320x180, or whatever, rather than the 640x360 that I want. But, well, beggars can't be choosers.

( Vietnam Pix via BT Yahoo )