The Journey Home
We began the morning with a final sweep of the homestay—drawers, shelves, under the bed—making sure nothing was left behind. The room felt hollow now, emptied of routine. Even with most of the packing done the night before, we moved slowly, sitting with our bags by the door and listening to scooters pass below while waiting for Mr. Nam. There was no rush—only a quiet reluctance.
He arrived shortly after nine, and that made it real. One last look back, then we set off on the forty five minute drive to Nội Bài Airport, Hanoi sliding past the windows—awake, busy, already moving on.
At the terminal, we checked in our yellow submarines and watched them vanish down the conveyor belt. The airport took over from there: documents, immigration, security—familiar steps that dulled time. With everything priced in USD, we ignored the shops and sat quietly at the gate. Our flight departed just after one, landing safely in Malaysia three hours later.
Crossing Back
After disembarking MH754, the walk through KLIA’s long arrival corridors felt endless. The air was cool and sterile, footsteps echoing, the noise reduced to wheels and tired voices. At immigration, calm briefly collapsed. The MYNIIS autogates offered little guidance; people queued incorrectly, doubled back, hesitated. It was frustrating and mildly chaotic, but eventually—through patience rather than clarity—we cleared it.
Beyond that, space opened into the baggage hall. Conveyor belts hummed steadily as we waited at carousel B. When our yellow submarines appeared—bright, unmistakable—it felt grounding, like the last step clicking into place.
Home, Gently
Our bags arrived quickly after that. We boarded the KLIA Express, quiet and efficient, the city sliding past as familiar rhythms returned. At KL Sentral, Brendan was waiting to take us home. It felt good to be back—tired, calm, and just in time for the festive season.
Only then did the full shape of the week settle in.
Looking Back
We spent one unforgettable week in Hanoi celebrating a birthday, and the city gave us far more than we expected. We lived out of a small homestay on Hàng Tre Street, each morning beginning the same way—crossing the road, turning onto Lò Sũ, walking toward Hoàn Kiếm Lake.
That lake became the heart of the trip. Morning light, warm sunsets, quiet night reflections—it always drew us back.
We explored slowly: Ngọc Sơn Temple, St. Joseph’s Cathedral, the Flag Tower, Ba Đình Square, Trấn Quốc Pagoda, the Temple of Literature. We wandered the Old Quarter’s tight streets and the French Quarter’s calm avenues, surprised again and again.
Food shaped everything. Brunch at Running Bean, La Capo, and The Coffee Club. Street food—bún cá, bún chả, beef noodles, even McDonald’s when convenience won. We found favourites: a tiny bún chả stall on Hàng Thùng, gelato by the lake, a sundry shop run by an elderly deaf couple that quietly made us feel at home.
The birthday anchored the week. Shopping, coffee breaks, and finally the tattoo—a lotus, drawn by hand and inked by Hung Bun over four painful hours. It hurt, but it mattered.
Not everything went smoothly—a disappointing spa visit, a long hunt for Bluetooth headphones—but even those frustrations became part of the story.
As the week softened, so did everything else. We rode the red double decker bus twice and watched Hanoi glow into evening. On our last night, we returned to where we began, eating bún cá at the same small stall as day one.
Now, back in Kuala Lumpur, Hanoi is physically behind us—but it stays close. In memory, in photographs, in a lotus etched into skin, and in quiet moments that surface without warning.
The trip ended—but its afterlife had already begun.
Stay tuned for the next series of videos from our adventures closer to home.
Do visit our YouTube Channel Have Perut Will Travel)
📍 Location:
Noi Bai International Airport - https://maps.app.goo.gl/i4BZvrPcCNE9zJP87
Kuala Lumpur International Airport - https://maps.app.goo.gl/pDCevJLK4PNEfeq39
Havironia Music - https://goo.gl/maps/swtNfVmjFK4FgRsf8
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