Purple Forbidden City

I write from a small, astonishingly-muddy-for-the-dry-season (did we all decide it was National Hose Dust Day?) town about 90 kilometers north of Hue. The hotel (flashing orange neon sign) we found here--the best of the three we checked--is a decidedly unsavory adjustment from the clean fluffy white sheets, personal balcony, and spotless floors of our Hue City place. We had a key card in that place--an absolutely remarkable item here.

But tonight:
Cigarette butts in the corner, a plentiful coating of dust (un-inviting to walk around barefoot), cobwebs on all the lighting fixtures, and half-used soaps from whoever came before. It's difficult to be at ease, like one would want after a day of bicycle travel, in a dirty place such as this. I want to retract into myself away from it all, but there is no sanctuary, and this is where we must be. So what do we do?  We burn incense, we decide not to feel entitled, we do yoga on the bed; we anticipate something better to come. This is a reminder that I am so fortunate to have my own clean nesting space waiting for me back in the United States.

This is just one of the many marked contrasts between city and rural Vietnam. Fascinating, always fascinating, to be a traveler.

So sweep those cigarette butts out the door, and allow me to tell you of our splendid, almost magical, times in Hue City.

The city of Hue in the 1800's was the Royal Citadel, the seat for ruling Vietnam. There were emporers and guards and towers and moats and carved dragons and all that fantastical stuff. The citadel is a UNESCO protected site and we went this morning to explore. "Purple Forbidden City," a bit of it was labeled on the map. How could one not be compelled to explore a purple forbidden city?

Nobody was there--magically--inside the moat and those amazing stone walls. I padded off, as if I were exploring the secret garden. Old buildings, gaudy playful colors graced with the Now of growing weeds; stone ruins I find so compelling. Huge yellow and red structures carved with intricate dragons. Bonsai trees, anciently ornate. And all of this in serenity. I felt that same sort of quiet awe as I do when padding about Linwood Gardens in NY state. It was beautiful.

In addition to the citadel in Hue, the area is cemetery and tomb central. I should note that in Cambodia and Thailand we saw not a single cemetary, so in Vietnam we found their presence notable. Especially since many of the tombs are shaped like giant lotuses, or have pink ornaments on their stone carved features, or are just simply humungous. We saw huts smaller than some of these tombs in Cambodia.

Lady Elise and I have ridden through a number of graveyards now, pedaling along slowly, weaving along the red dirt roads. The tombs themselves are carefully tended, but all jurisdiction around the tombs is weeds and a frenzy of green growing life. This lends the whole place a magical, very distinctive energy. I felt like I was in a dream landscape; decidedly "the other".

Later today, far even from the city, as we gratefully pedaled smooth, paved, traffic-less, country roads (oh! what a divine combination!) there were still tombs, but this time set about in rice paddies. Rice paddies stretching as far as the eye can reach, like the corn in Iowa. And in all that rice: stone tombs sprinkled about. Like riding through a giant chess board, the rice paddies the squares and the tombs the distinctively chiseled pieces rising above.

Sometimes riding in this land I feel like I could be in a dream.