Adventures in Nighttime Hanoi

Now here comes a story.

It’s my second-to-last evening in Hanoi. Marek is still recovering from the challenges of the previous days, and Kristina has already gone to bed. But I’m not ready to call it a night. Instead, I wander alone through the streets of the capital.

I step into one club, but it doesn’t quite feel right, so I move on. At midnight, as per police regulations, everything is ordered to shut down. Just then, I find myself on a dark side street where I’m almost pulled into a bar. It’s Tom’s Bar — a place I’ve read about. Officially, a metal shutter comes down at midnight. Unofficially, the party continues inside.

The place is small, though a large mirror covering the opposite wall creates an illusion of space. A DJ plays music. People are friendly, talkative. There’s a woman from Thailand named Bo. A couple of local prostitutes linger around, largely ignored. One briefly places her hands on my shoulders but quickly realizes I’m not part of her clientele.

Instead, I end up talking to a group of fun young people who are in Vietnam teaching English as part of some program. At some point, they head outside, and I follow. I see them climbing onto scooters.

Jokingly, I ask a Spanish girl named Elvi, “Can you give me a lift back to my hostel?”

She replies, “Do you want to come with us? Hop on!”

Before I fully process what’s happening, I’m on the back of a scooter racing through Hanoi at high speed, cold wind cutting through my thin shirt. At the start of the ride, she hands me her helmet. My hat — which she puts on her own head — flies off somewhere along the way.

“Should we stop?” I shout.

“Forget the hat — it’s gone!” she laughs.

It starts to rain. The ride through dark Hanoi stretches much farther than I expected. As I hold tightly around her slim waist, she laughs and says, “Don’t worry!”

Eventually, we arrive at our destination.

It’s a night flower market.

Yes, you read that correctly — a massive wholesale flower market where vendors buy flowers at night to sell during the day. The guys in the group like it because you can eat and drink cheaply at this hour. Elvi loves it because she finds it absolutely beautiful. She even gives me a small tour through rows of colorful blossoms under the night lights.

After sitting for a long time at a table, sharing stories, we head to a nearby bar called Rastaman and stay there for another hour. When Elvi decides to leave, I ask if she can drop me off. She says the Old Quarter isn’t exactly on her way, so she can take me part of the distance.

We start riding — but almost immediately she changes her mind and decides to take me all the way. When we reach the Old Town, neither of us is entirely sure where my hostel is. So we ride slowly through the narrow streets, each holding our phone in one hand, navigating with our own maps.

And somehow, we find it.

A cheek kiss. “¡Buenas noches!”

Another Hanoi night — unpredictable, slightly chaotic, and absolutely unforgettable.