Huế

Next stop, after our driver from Hoi An invoked Chan's wrath by insisting we leave him a Trip Advisor review on the car WiFi prior to our arrival (another item off the Things One Does Not Do list.  She said "No." through a smile that promised dire consequences), was Huế - a name I'm going to have to copy & paste all through this post because of its queerly accented "ế".   We have been taking our time in Vietnam, as it's our last 'proper' stop, so unlike most tourists who normally just stop for a day, we had a couple of days to explore.  Which was for the best as, because it was still bloody hot and sticky, we maintained our usual half-day tourism, half-day drinking pattern. 

Back in Vietnam's Imperial days, Huế was the royal capital - which explains the monstrous fortress at its centre. The Citadel is a city-within-a-city, consisting of various temples, royal domiciles, harems, and the homes of mandarins and other imperial busybodies.  It took a bit of a beating during the French Indochina wars, and then again after shelling by the Viet Cong during the Tet offensive. Consequently bits of it are now nowt but rubble and grass.

Some parts are still impeccably presented, but then others are crumbling and being somewhat half-heartedly restored.

As we were exploring on our own and willing to use our own legs, most of the Citadel away from the main gates was pretty deserted. A lot of the staff in the occasional concession stand were often found lying on a nearby mattress or looking after their on-site young/old relatives.  Mind you, that's no different to anywhere else we've seen.

We were walking under this quite beautiful covered wooden walkway when we apparently invoked an ancient curse, because two garish centipedes fell from the rafters, narrowly missing our heads.  Ladies and Gentlemen, the Scolopendra subspinipes:

Where is your god now?

They are venomous and aggressive, with a "medically significant"bite that can ruin your next 5 days. Check out this picture I found of their fangs:

Dust off; nuke it from orbit.  It's the only way to be sure.

Anyhoo, taking our hint, we hustled on.  The exhibits here described the lives of the emperors and the various members of his court. The eunuchs, for example, looked after the Emperor's harem and presented a list of which concubines were available for the day.  The mandarins were the senior civil servants - selected from villages of over the country after a gruelling academic testing regime - who served as advisers and ministers.  The emperor himself had a fairly arduous time of it, serving as the human middleman to heaven and generally having a 14 hour working day.  My favourite quote:

Three monarchs continue work at night: Gia Long, because he hates the bickering in his harem; Gia Long, because he takes his duties very seriously; Tu Doc, because he is rather slow.

Outside of town there are a large number of royal tombs to be visited, if one is being a proper tourist. We organised a car to take us around, and then a boat back to town on the Perfume River.  So, the following day we were picked up by our driver and taken around the most significant tombs (There are quite a few more more but you'd need several days to see them all and my interest has narrower margins than that - Hat tip to Hamish again).  They were mostly built in the late 19th century, when the Emperors' powers were much curtailed by the colonial rule of the French, so they spent much of their working lives building monuments to themselves.

The tomb of Tu Duc (he of the late nights because he was a bit dim) is quite elaborate and was designed by himself. The vast cost and slave labour used in its construction -along with his monstrously lavish lifestyle- provoked an attempted coup.  He spent quite a long time here alive (granted, not as much time as he would spend there dead), as it is equipped with quarters for him and  his courtesans and it was a pleasant retreat from being a pampered dullard.

The tablet above is a Stele: an engraved essay -normally autobiographical- detailing the life of the tomb's occupant.  Apparently Tu Duc was quite critical of himself.

His tomb itself is comparatively modest, but then I'd make less effort on the bits I wouldn't get to see too.

And some of the dragons have doodle bobbers

Next up is Minh Mang, which is a lot more leafy and is filled with several hectares of trees and woodland.  It was built by his successor Thieu Tri, who was the most revered of the royals, especially for his frugality with the country's coffers during lean times - which must be a selling point compared to dumdum up the page.

Spot the photo bomber

 
Last was the tomb of Khai Dinh, which has a Gothic, European-inspired, blackened concrete exterior but a demented, Liberace's bathroom-inspired interior.

Then we caught our boat back to town.  The family on board spoke very little English, but accepted our receipt and gormless faces and beckoned us on board.  The boat was a rickety, wooden longboat thing. We sat on plastic patio chairs while a surly chap piloted the boat at the back, his elderly mother tried to sell us tat and a 5/6 year old girl (the driver's daughter?) watched us from her chair in silent bemusement.

We bought some truly awful postcards (which may well be older than us and unlikely to be bought by anyone else who isn't a fan of out-of-focus photographs of bridges) from granny, as some of you will soon attest, but otherwise I placated her mercantile advances by buying beer,which she kept in a nearby ice box.  It was no real hardship.

We stopped on the way back at the Thien Mu Pagoda.  It was built by Thieu Tri and its seven layers are dedicated to manushi-buddha - a Buddha who appeared in human form.  I will say now that I'm way, way past trying to keep track of Buddha's various manifestations and effigies at this point.

Oh, there were a couple of odd things here.  A couple of the statues had real hair:

And do you remember that monk named Thich Quang Duc, who famously (and publicly) set fire to himself in protest against the South Vietnamese government? (He's that bloke off the Rage Against The Machine album for the historically ignorant of my generation)
Well, they've got the car he used to drive himself to Saigon here as an odd relic.  It's an Austin.

I guess all the Best Burning Buddhists Buy British.  I'll show myself out.