|The Rooftop, on the 19th floor of Pacific Place building in Hanoi, Vietnam|
19 floors up and I'm typing this on my blackberry. Now here with me on this rooftop 19 floors high above the glowing gold lit streets of incandescent light. This is the chic new Hanoi, Mick Hucknall sings something over the speakersn the winds are strong up here and I've the the prime corner high table. The city of Hanoi glows in fluorescense and neons. Below me horns blare and hoot the annoying beeps of the motor bikes going toe to toe with the longer sustained impatience of the drivers of cars. Somewhere below the locals squat low at the pho' stalls, massages are administered, some with happy endings. Tired workers head home on bikes and buses. You are still here with me. Its only 830pm local time. My Tiger beer is getting warm. But the fresh Vietnamese springs rolls are refreshing. The quiet voices of the mainly couples out here on the wooden balcony contrast sharply to the louder conversations inside the loungy restaurant inside. Wait.. Beer getting warmer. Langkau would not approve.
|It's funny how one starts dreaming whenever one see's a glowing golden road that disappears into the horizon. What? you mean its only me? dammit...|
Hanoi the administrative capital of Vietnam. Half the population of Saigon/Ho Chi Minh's 8 million. More political power but less commercial vibrancy. I'm not making sense. Fuck I can't even see what I'm typing. The small 'i ' looks like an ant's penis. Ooo some group aplauding something. Hmm maybe I'll see if I can score a free beer. Excuse folks...