Cozy, if you're Hanoi-bal Lector

Arrived in Hanoi, Vietnam late last night.  The "visa-on-arrival" process was a little shaky - probably because I had none of the following:  passports photos, US currency, paper copy of "approval letter," non-snarky attitude toward immigration employees - all requisite for obtaining a visa.  Apparently, the policy of the immigration office in cases like this is to stop everything, group huddle (with everyone at the office), and give me a visa, no questions asked.  I got mine before a bunch of New Zealanders who'd arrived before me.  They were none too happy.  Score one for Mike. 

Hanoi is completely effing lawless - at least when it comes to the roads.  Upon hopping in a cab from the airport, was immediately terrified of the motorbikes buzzing about our two-gear taxi like locusts.  I felt like the helpless trucker in a fast and furious motorcycle scene - I was sure Michelle Rodriguez was going to shoot a grappling hook through our taxi and flip it over. 

Sure enough, though, when I woke up this morning to explore the city, I was absolutely itching to get on one of these motorbikes.  If I learned anything at Georgetown, it was how to survive on a deathtrap moped1; this was to going be my final exam.  I shelled out the whopping US11 for a full day on the bigboy bike (250cc's), and nearly ran over an old lady just trying to start the bike.  Before long, I was on the road and whizzing through the traffic of Old City Hanoi.       

Apparently this has been well documented; I think this guy does it the most justice.  Above is my picture of this infamous intersection.   

1 - Courtesy of hours logged as a delivery boy for Rhino Bar & Pumphouse.  Damn good Jack Daniels pizza, if I do say so myself - and I brought 'em anywhere in D.C. (I may have invited myself in and stayed for awhile, but that's neither here nor there).  I am still recovering from my 21st birthday and all of senior year there.  Here's to Rhino.