Belly-button banquet

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This was published 14 years ago

Belly-button banquet

One of many gates to the Forbidden City in Hue.

One of many gates to the Forbidden City in Hue.Credit: iStock

The clouds part above the Perfume River as shafts of sunset orange and purple clip the walls of Hue's Forbidden City. The grass on the river bank is still moist from the afternoon showers and the air is thick with midsummer humidity. We've spent the morning traipsing through the tombs of the ancient city's former emperors, from Tu Duc to Khai , and climbing the stairs to the riverside pagoda where young monks lurk in temple doorways whispering, giggling and avoiding eye contact with foreigners.

Vietnam's ancient capital is slipping into the lull of dusk and we're in a prime position to toast the sunset. Often referred to as the belly button of Vietnam, Hue is the country's midpoint between north and south. Between 1802 and 1945, it was the imperial capital of the Nguyen dynasty and it was the nation's capital until Emperor Bao Dai abdicated and a communist government was formed in his wake in Hoi An in 1945. Best known for its historic monuments, Hue is a recognised UNESCO heritage site and although many of its monuments were bombed and damaged during the Vietnam War, the remains are striking.

The yellow star on the national flag above the Forbidden City glows in the last shards of light. We pour our tins of Huda beer into glasses filled with ice and perch on child-sized plastic chairs on the river bank. Far from a conventional beer garden, this is one of the most pleasant ways to enjoy a sundowner and although we almost topple out of our chairs several times, the novelty outweighs the inconvenience.

We're surrounded by locals smoking and drinking, collecting their empty beer bottles under their kindergartenesque plastic tables. In the park behind us, lovers sit on benches reading poetry and holding hands. The bustle of the city centre, although just across the river, is a distant buzz.

A few hours earlier, I was hurtling headlong into the traffic on the front of a cyclo, with motorbikes roaring towards me, their drivers paying little attention to lane markings and road-sharing etiquette. Survival on Vietnamese roads requires a healthy blend of recklessness and bravery. It is impossible to decipher the symphony of scooters and motorbikes ducking and weaving with speed as they dodge cyclo drivers balancing everything from entire families to wheelbarrows of vegetables and even the kitchen sink.

The view from the front of the cyclo is as exciting as it is nerve-racking and is by far the best way to get your bearings in a Vietnamese city. As we slip down back alleys, I peer into doorways and windows, observing intimate domestic scenes.

It's so peaceful on the perimeter of the Forbidden City; that is, until we glide past a local football match, the bellow of clashing supporters breaking the silence of the citadel.

We pull into the central marketplace, Dong Ba, and my driver rests in the shade as I navigate the overflowing stalls. I stumble over jackfruit and durian, almost falling into rows of brassieres and frilly underpants side by side with the fruit and vegetables. A grinning saleswoman follows closely behind, urging me to visit her clothes shop on the second floor as the food touts call out to me, thrusting noodles and steaming broth in my face.

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The most weird and wonderful sights are found in the riverside stalls, where fish gasp their last breath beside plucked ducks and chickens bound by the feet. There are pig snouts and frisky eels, bloody ox hearts and piles of unrecognisable flesh watched over by women in conical hats, casually fanning away the flies.

The heart and soul of an Asian city, the market is always worth a wander and with its array of traditional crafts, food, clothing and hardware, Dong Ba is a treasure trove.

The evening's plan is to continue our local meander with a bar hop through Hue's bia hoi (draught beer halls). Our shared instructions are simple enough: sample a dish at each establishment and finish a round of drinks. Without our Vietnamese-speaking companion, Minh-tu, we'd be relying on the Lonely Planet phrase book to select the dishes she fondly dubs "Vietnamese tapas".

The menus are divided into animal categories, from eel and frog to pork and buffalo. Our first stop dishes up ech xao sa ot (frog's legs with lemongrass) and luon xao (stir-fried eel). It seems the frog's whole body has found its way onto our plates and while the bouncing legs are rather succulent, it will be some time before I plunge my chopsticks into a portion of frog's belly again. In an effort to wash down Kermit's entrails, I gulp a glass of lukewarm and flat bia lanh (chilled beer). If I hadn't seen the waiter pour the beer from a tap at the front of the restaurant into our plastic petrol jug, I would have sworn we were drinking warm toilet water.

But our brave faces are well and truly in place and, although I pass over the beady-eyed eel, by our third roadside table for three, I'm sampling the trau (buffalo) with gusto, delighted to be drinking it down with a bia lanh that is true to its name chilled and refreshing.

The next challenge comes as we take it in turns to navigate the toilet facilities. With my forehead resting against the concertinaed plastic screen door, I balance on my toes and target the tiny urinal on the wall. There's nothing graceful about it but the alternative is to choose a darkened, rat-infested alley, so there are no complaints from me.

Our Vietnamese tapas banquet is delicious and well supplemented by a street hawker's crispy baguettes. It's approaching midnight and many of the restaurants are hosing off and closing their blinds. By this time, we have ceased to raise eyebrows or catch sidelong glances. Instead, the locals clink our glasses and grin welcomingly as we head for restaurant number four.

Our final stop is all about pork and it's not long before we're chomping on juicy pig's knuckles and discussing the possibilities for a nightcap. We've each parted with less than $10 and our bellies are full. What better way to end the evening than by hurtling headlong into the night on the front of a cyclo.

The writer was a guest of Vietnam Airlines.

TRIP NOTES


Vietnam Airlines flies from Sydney to Ho Chi Minh City (then on to Hanoi) four times a week on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays. See vietnamairlines.com for details.


One of the most beautiful hotels in Hue is the French colonial La Residence Hotel and Spa. See la-residence-hue.com for details.


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