A Phoenix

Was it the food from the Saigon night market? An errant sip of tap water from the hotel?

Whatever the cause, by the time our flight from Ho Chi Minh City to the ancient capital of Huế landed in the early afternoon, Tom was definitely feeling the effects of some kind of food poisoning, which laid him low for the next 24 hours.

Our flight on Vietjet Air, the first of six budget airlines flights we had booked to get ourselves around SE Asia, had looked to depart on time when they herded us onto a bus and took us across the tarmac to a waiting plane, but we stood in the bus for 10-15 minutes before it reversed course and deposited us back at the terminal where we waited for another hour before being put back on the bus and allowed to board the plane.

As we waited, I watched Tom become ever greener by the minute and by the time we got to our lodgings and climbed the three flights of stairs to our room with our bags, he was in a pretty bad way with all the symptoms that accompany that particular affliction.

We were staying at Ivy’s House, a little pensione (called a ‘homestay’ in Vietnam) –just a few rooms rented out over the owner’s own apartment. It had a small balcony and an odd little outdoor kitchen and the usual rock hard bed—not that Tom noticed one way or the other.

In the late afternoon, I ventured out in search of an ATM, water and food, observing Hue’s main streets, and noting that they seemed a bit more orderly that Saigon’s– even the pedestrian crossings had lights that actually worked and were obeyed by the traffic! As we would see throughout Vietnam, the city was a mixture of the old and the new.

My walk took me to the banks of the Perfume River, where I watched the sun set along a very pretty riverfront walkway.

I saw the Trường Tiền Bridge that, according to a photo I had seen in the War Remnants Museum the day before, had been blown up during the Battle of Huế in 1968—the scene of the fiercest fighting of the Tet Offensive—now rebuilt exactly as it had been before.

If Saigon had ignited my memories of the Vietnam War, Huế only intensified those reflections.

The battle involved the most intense urban fighting of the entire war, much of it centered on the ancient Citadel, home to half the population, within which the Imperial City is situated.

60-80 percent of the buildings in Huế were completely destroyed during the battle, including many ancient temples and palaces within the Citadel,  and thousands of civilians died or were executed by Communist forces.

Nearly 700 American soldiers were killed and almost 4000 wounded.

The battle lasted from 31 January- 2 March, and we arrived on March 25, almost exactly 56 years later.

The heat and humidity were stifling, even after the sun went down, and now I began to contemplate what it must have been like for those soldiers—few of whom would have been used to those conditions—to be fighting for their lives, dressed in full battle gear, carrying god knows how many pounds of equipment.

I was lightly dressed, carrying nothing and sweating profusely. There was no breeze and the air was heavy—nothing was helping to evaporate my body heat.

I was on a water quest because just to avoid heat exhaustion, we were drinking at least a half liter of water every half hour or so.

It was unimaginable to me what it must have been like during that battle. How did they stay hydrated? How did they not all die of heat stroke?

Fortunately for me, I had an air conditioned room to retreat to, lugging 3 liters of water and a take-away container of Pho Bo to eat on the balcony while Tom slept.

The next morning—our one full day in Huế–Tom very gamely rallied and we made our way to the Imperial Palace, spending the entire morning and early afternoon exploring its grounds.

It was a public holiday- something having to do with Ho Chi Minh and youth—and the place was swarming with young people, some dressed in what looked like Communist Party uniforms, others–especially the young girls and women, but a few men as well—in traditional dress in an array of pastel and other colors.

The sight of all these fantastically clad Vietnamese really added to the ambiance of the setting, and contrasted sharply with the few Westerners, all dressed looking like typical tourists (not excluding ourselves).

It wasn’t always clear which buildings within the Imperial Palace precinct had survived more or less intact, and which had been restored, but the whole complex was fascinating and offered a wide variety of palaces, temples, gardens and gateways to explore.

And everywhere we went, the girls in the pretty dresses were posing for one another (and for us)

We saw one important palace being restored, and we visited a theatre that had been beautifully re-built.

Nearby was the hollowed out carcass of a building that had not been touched.

We took our time, moving slowly around the various sections of the grounds, really enjoying the emperor’s private gardens, dotted with large bonsai, little arched bridges, small temples and other buildings.

The Imperial City is not that ancient by Eastern (or Western) standards, having been begun in 1802 by the Nguyễn lord Gia Long who had defeated Vietnam’s ruling dynasty, the Tay Son, and proclaimed himself emperor. This dynasty lasted until 1945, though it served only a ceremonial role after 1883 when the French claimed Indochina as their own.

Nevertheless, the buildings were impressive and well worth seeing.

The other big attraction in Huế is the tombs of these various emperors, which are small Imperial cities of their own. It was hot (though that barely bears repeating at this point) and we were tired, but we decided to go see one- that of the last independent ruler, Emperor Tu Duc who died in 1883.

It was supposed to be the most impressive imperial tomb, all of which are scattered in the countryside on the outskirts of Huế. We actually really enjoyed the cab ride out to the tomb as it gave us a glimpse of a more rural part of the city, with lots of markets, small houses, gardens and little lanes.

The tomb grounds were more of the same—temples and pavilions, beautifully landscaped grounds, a large pond filled with huge koi and the tomb itself—a large monolith with Tu Duc’s final judgment of his own reign inscribed upon it.

The plaza below the tomb was guarded by the statues of warriors, elephants and horses.

The entire precinct had been Tu Duc’s pleasure grounds and became his final resting place after his death. It also had the oldest intact imperial theatre remaining in Vietnam.

Thoroughly tombed and templed out by this time (see Tom’s face on the photo above), we went back to Ivy’s for a rest. On the way in, we spotted one of the most outrageous motor scooter loads we had seen to date (and we had seen dozens of crazily overloaded scooters by this point.) [Note that the guy with three full sized bicycles with baskets(!) strapped to the back of his scooter is riding along the sidewalk….]

Venturing out that evening, we decided to eat just a few steps away at the Cozy Café for dinner.

It must have been on Trip Advisor or some such forum, because the clientele was a steady stream of Westerners like ourselves. The darling waitress spoke very good English and even understood gluten free, so it was a win-win for us.

The food was delicious, and, as with all the food we had in Vietnam, insanely cheap.

Our stay in Hue was very short, but we saw what we came to see.

And it was long enough to see that more than almost any other city in Vietnam, it had in the past 50+ years risen from the ashes of the Vietnam War like a phoenix, proudly reclaiming its imperial heritage, one building at a time.