I’ve been playing around with the  following on my Google Docs for sometime but it didn’t find a home. Anyway, it was inspired by how even the word “Hanoi” provokes very differing reactions.

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I do occasional talks on social media and in the section on networking I describe how I once used it to find drinking buddies, while working and slowly going mad, in remote, rural Cameroon.

In short I set up filters on every online platform I could think of and if anyone mentioned my town I was on it, and I got in touch.  I then invited them for a beer at 7pm on Friday night at the local, less than salubrious, Dreamland Restaurant.

It worked well, my record gathering was 25 – including assorted NGO workers, two BBC reporters and a mob of American Peace Corps and German DED.

Anyway, I brought the search habit with me to Hanoi but soon learned locally it’s what news aggregators like to call “noisy”.

For example, I know that when I log on in the morning the Twitter search will be dominated by right wing America still frothing at the mouth over the actions of “Hanoi Jane”, some 40 years on.

The slightest TV mention or appearance and the feed goes into overdrive with people demanding no less than her execution as a traitor.  When recently she was rumoured to be in the running to play right wing hero Nancy Reagan it got really messy.

But what’s odd about Hanoi is just how much baggage the word carries.  The international popularity of Finnish metallers Hanoi Rocks for me will always be skewed by my search habits. I’m guessing they chose Hanoi as just about the baddest place they could think of. (This week Heroes of Hanoi also popped up – an indie band from Worcester).

If you filter that out then there’s still all the geeks playing Tower of Hanoi when they should be coding,  or whatever it is they do. For the more serious gamer there is Black Ops Hanoi.

Meanwhile I have learned that in the UK, break-ins when villains take keys and drive away your car are called Hanoi burglaries.  In the confusion Police had to make a statement saying that yes, it was just a codename and no, no Vietnamese were sought in connection with the offence.

Elsewhere I’ve learned incredible facts.  Like who knew that the A-Team’s crime “they didn’t commit” was the burglary of  the Bank of Hanoi? Presumably, as they tried to fly to safety, Mr T fled Noi Bai shouting:“You ain’t going to get me on no plane, sucka!”

Personally my pet Hanoi hate is reporters who use the capital’s name as a journalistic shorthand for “The Vietnamese Government”.

Hanoi has declared that….as if we somehow we’re all in on this.  I’ve come to think that perhaps some writers actually believe we are.

But being a Brit I didn’t grow up with Hanoi as the bogeyman.  My first inkling of it was thanks to one of my favourite CDs, “Sinatra at the Sands”.  It’s Frank’s birthday but he dismisses speculation over his advancing years as a “Damned Communist lie – straight outta Hanoi!”.

Later Frank goes on to tease pianist Count Basie with his comedy negro voice.  They were very different times.

But it reminds me that for every backpacker buying propaganda posters, there remains a sizeable number of people who, in the words of Paul Hardcastle: “…are still fighting the Vietnam War.”

Well they are on Twitter at least.

And it’s probably with them in mind that the oh-so-trendy Luxe Guides comes up with this on Hanoi:

“Think it’s all tin-hats and Jane Fonda? Think again…..Go on, get in bed with the reds.”

If you think that’s bad try their opening gambit:

“So hungry you could eat your neighbour’s dog?  That wouldn’t be out of question in Hanoi!”

Now of course, it’s not a case of someone arriving followed by a wait while they return home and file copy. The writer, whether pro or wannabe, is likely to be sharing their views from the second they hit WIFI.  In Vietnam there’s a lot of WIFI.

What it means is that without looking especially hard, you can come across reams and reams of live content generated about where you live. In the end very little of it impresses.  Yes it can be mean-spirited to pick holes, but frequently it’s all too easy and that goes for the writers from the quality press just as as much as it does for ambitious young bloggers.

Travel bloggers dreaming of being able to fund an endless holiday, need to be read. In order to be read, even putting aside SEO-thinking, they have to be of use. So instead of actually writing about their travels they write tips for future backpackers. However with limited time in town and limited research resources they Google and cannibalise what they find.

Even their travel writing heroes are not great explorers but great blaggers. Travelling for years fuelled by travel tips churned out and ready to be recycled by the next “nomad”. Sure, it’s not about the destination, it’s the journey.  But increasingly it’s length of journey that’s all important.

For the foodies it means visiting that same bun cha restaurant. While those not wanting to be quite so same same, head for the snake village. Another cliche but it’s something to share on YouTube and if it’s good enough for the telly guys… (please, don’t do it).

Meanwhile at the higher end of the market, “proper” journalists descend on Hanoi as the first stop on their tour. All good except they use the same Google as the rest of us. Worse still with flights and rooms arranged by the same PR company the writers ends up staying in the same places and churning out information from the same fact sheets. Google “Charlie Chaplin” AND “Sofitel Metropole” and you get 11,900 results.

After the Metropole there’s the three other hotels that crop up time and time again in Hoi An, Hue and Ho Chi Minh City. One charges well over $1,000 a night. Not the kind of freebie you’re going to slag off in print – then again, with the PRs having primed the resort management it’s not like they’re going to get anything but preferential treatment anyway.

And when did broadsheet travel writing becoming almost exclusively about luxury?

But perhaps the days of The Great Railway Bizarre are over anyway. It’s not just that everyone’s seen it all already on TV and YouTube but travel writing as Paul Theroux said is about “Jumping to conclusions and generalising. Inventing and recreating places from vagrant glimpses.”

In modern times I think we’re less comfortable generalising about people and we’re less comfortable reading those who still do.

That’s probably no bad thing.

I’m not sure where it goes from here though.  Are travel tips and Instagrammed photos of sun sets all we have left?

I can end the day with a cold shower but I can’t start with one.

So, this morning, having slept with the air con on most of night, I turned on the heater and enjoyed the warm water.  Except that half way through the lights went out – and with it went the fan and the air con.

We’d just bought a rechargeable fan for such an eventuality but it wasn’t worth bothering with this morning.  Instead I dried off in unhindered heat and dashed from the house sweating.  I cooled off a little on the motorbike trip to work and surprised myself when I got there to find my rush had meant me arriving before quarter past eight.

The power cut was well timed.  Today feels like the first proper day of summer.  The first day that the weather has genuinely pushed past the upper twenties and solidly into the thirties. As I type this at twenty past six, the thermometer says it’s still 32 degrees.

I’ve become increasingly afraid of the Hanoi summer but I’m not sure why.  When I first lived here it didn’t stop me doing anything. In fact life was so fast moving I hardly noticed either its arrival or passing until temperatures hit extremes.  But each year I’ve talked myself up about the looming Hanoi summer and the need to escape it.

But I’ve enjoyed today.  That dash to work, the blue sky – I even surprised myself by going out in the midday heat for lunch (okay so I went to The Cart instead of getting them to deliver – my wife requires a good excuse before she’ll accept me eating anywhere else).  My usual latte was replaced an iced espresso, I called in again on Loan on the way home and had a particularly girly iced jasmine tea with honey and ginger.

Last weekend we packed away all our winter clothes – first leaving them to dry on the roof as they still felt damp.  Summer shirts were put in the wash to rid them of the mildewy layer they’d acquired over the summer. My wardrobe looks sparse now.

Already I’m fretting that I need to do some exercise before the heat leaves me unable to put one foot in front of the other without sweating profusely.

This is summer in Hanoi.

Follows this post.

Back when I used to work at KOTO, they fed me most days – it was part of the deal, there never was a more spoiled VSO volunteer than me.

Most of the time that meant delivery to the old Thuy Khue training centre but occasionally I’d be at the restaurant so I’d find a table and order.  I never enjoyed it. I always spent my time wondering how long it’d been since table 12 ordered, or was table 5 not enjoying their dish and that glass of wine table 3 received – I thought they’d ask for a beer etc etc.

Normally everyone was just fine and staff were far more capable of keeping tabs on it all than I was. All I added was an on-edge layer of nervousness.

Substitute KOTO in 2004 – 2007 for The Cart 2009 – now and up till recently I was still a little jumpy. It’s intensified as The Cart Nghi Tam, just two minutes from my house, sometimes feels like an overspill of my living room.  After all it’s often where I go just to spend time with my hardworking wife.

But what’s great is just how the place now feels like it’s matured. Staff recruited in the wake of opening the branch are proving to be stars. None more so than Hung the former Blue Dragon kid manning the front desk and Doan our baker.

Hung (seen here modelling the KeepCup) is a star, an honest as the day is long and with deceptively good English. I wonder sometimes – did he get that? – he did.  Doan, our baker, arrived having worked overseas – the fresh bread he makes has taken the place to a new level.

We’d always envisaged the cafe as a Nghi Tam community place. Too small for a hangout but maybe somewhere to meet up. We’re making new friends as a result of being open – good to see some of our customers doing the same.  They too look more comfortable there and we now know a little more about each other. We’ve become part of each other’s routine.

Loan continues to work seven days a week but gratifyingly not quite as many hours.  Sister Trang is an irreplaceable member of staff and, as she’s holding down two jobs, we keep trying to lure her full time but her other post is public sector and in Vietnam that’s still considered the most solid career going.

My wife has a very Vietnamese anti-marketing stance.  Businesses build. Promotion is expensive. It’s actually suited us and while it may be rooted in a traditional pho-stand sensibility it goes well with modern social media thinking. We’ve tried to avoid any hyperbole on our website. We’ll say it’s fresh – you can decide if you think it’s tasty.  Word of mouth has so far promoted a very sustainable growth. From the very outset there’s been a plan to flyer all the local NGOs but, ultimately, we haven’t needed to.

Staff capacity is building at pretty much the same rate as demand and that’s fantastic.

Oh and The Cart Au Trieu has had a little love too.  At first the new place stole a few of its customers but now they’re both performing consistently.  Although we also know that summer is coming and they’re long and hot and frequently not quite so rewarding. It’s all about spring and autumn in expat land.

Finally it was my 41st birthday yesterday (I was very moved when the flowers below arrived from colleagues) – which is always a good time to reflect.  Post Tet holiday, which seems like years ago now, has been a rather stressful period – for a number of reasons I’ll go into another time.  But it feels like we’re getting a grip on it all.

Investing our thought and time in The Cart will be an ongoing process – but with it settling nicely, happily it’s one less thing to worry about.

I worked from home yesterday and came back to find copies of the Word Hanoi magazine, often left untouched by my Vietnamese staff, had been rapidly circulating the office.  My article about my female colleagues had been discovered and had been passed around, giggled over and even scanned and sent to friends. You can find the online version here.

As I wrote:

Almost daily there will be someone with a reason to celebrate and literally a couple of crates of cakes will arrive. I can find no cynical reasoning for this — there is no explanation beyond the wanting to share good fortune. There are always flowers in the office.

If colleagues get to travel as part of their work they patiently list requests for items that people want them to buy. Boxes and boxes of vitamins for pregnant women is a common one. Chocolates are brought back for all.

If you have a problem they know people. Let me call them. It’s no trouble. Their kindness extends beyond just me — they’d happily help my wife and family, too.

I’m relieved to find that the reaction has been touchingly positive.  One or two have suggested translating it into Vietnamese and taking it home to husbands to try and show them how hard their wives work.

The picture above was taken after a recent rare lunchtime escape from the office for a colleague’s birthday.  I didn’t intend to be central to the pic but due to our relative sizes it hard not to be.  Either way it’s a shot to be treasured.

The column itself was my fourth attempt to write something coherent.  That week I was away in Taipei with work and the deadline had already passed. The three other attempts turned out terribly and were junked. This piece wrote itself.