Originally published on metropolis.co.jp on April 2010

Photos by Trevor Mogg

There may not be many cars on the streets of Hanoi, but that doesn’t mean crossing is a doddle. In fact, getting from one side of the road to the other means taking your life into your own hands. Mopeds, scooters and bikes rule the streets here, and there are tens of thousands of them. To get across, look straight ahead, walk confidently and hope.

The capital of Vietnam since 1010, Hanoi has a population of over 6 million, which is surpassed only by that of the country’s economic powerhouse, Ho Chi Minh City. It’s rich in history and boasts a wonderful array of architecture built by the Vietnamese themselves, as well as the Chinese occupiers of long ago and, more recently, the French.

The focal point of the city is Hoan Kiem Lake, and it’s here that the day begins for many people. If you can drag yourself out of bed and get there by 5am, you’ll be able to marvel at the crowds performing their daily tai chi moves, playing badminton and hugging trees. By 6am, Hanoi is raring to go.

After a quick coffee in a lakeside cafe, I negotiated a price with a cyclo rider and headed for the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum. Taxis are cheap, but a cyclo puts you in among the action. If that fails to provide enough thrills, you can always jump on one of the ubiquitous motorcycle taxis—just hope that you have a skilful motorcyclist, as well as adequate medical cover.

Mopeds and motorcycles are by far the most popular form of transport for locals. Businesses use them to ferry goods in amazing balancing acts that wouldn’t look out of place in a circus. Families hop on them for day trips, with dad driving, mum at the back and two children squeezed securely (or not-so-securely) in-between. Teenagers ride in groups, chatting animatedly while negotiating tight bends and busy junctions.

Arriving at the mausoleum, I soon discover that Uncle Ho had tootled off to Russia for body maintenance. This usually takes place each year in October and November, so plan ahead if you want to catch a glimpse of the revolutionary credited with ending the French occupation in 1954 and helping to shape modern Vietnam.

Unlike Uncle Ho, Hanoi’s fascinating Old Quarter—more than 2,000 years in the making—clearly hasn’t undergone much by way of refurbishment. It’s easy to spend hours here, lost in the noisy, narrow streets packed with shops, cafes and restaurants. Feeling hungry, I decide to take lunch on the street with the locals. Pull up a plastic stool at one of the roadside stalls and you’ll soon have a piping hot bowl of pho thrust in your direction.

If the thought of street food turns your stomach, there are plenty of alternatives. One popular place is KOTO (“Know One Teach One”), a not-for-profit restaurant serving Vietnamese and Western dishes. The staff are mainly youngsters from disadvantaged backgrounds who’ve been given the chance of a new start in life thanks to KOTO’s training program. Walk off any dining excesses at the nearby Temple of Literature, the site of the country’s first university, established in 1076. It’s the perfect place to collect your thoughts before heading back into the bedlam of the Old Quarter.

On my last evening in Hanoi, I took in a show at the water puppet theater—featuring live music, tales of Vietnam’s past, and puppeteers half submerged in cold water—before going out in style with a slap-up meal at Bobby Chinn by West Lake. This is about as plush as it gets in Hanoi, and though expensive by local standards, it’s still exceptional value if you’re bringing Japanese yen.

On my way back to the hotel, feeling slightly sozzled, crossing the road somehow seemed easier than before—though I do recall a lot more honking as riders whistled past me at great speed. The streets of Hanoi may take the concept of chaos to new extremes, but those bikers sure know how to ride.