Michael Batson

Vietnam is a country with a fascinating history boasting a host of attractions. Midway along the country’s distinctive s-bend coastline is the former imperial capital of Hue where you get both history and wonderful sights. A few years ago, I made my first visit there and found it a welcome stop on the journey through Vietnam away from the hustle of the country’s bigger cities. The city’s oldest ruins go back 1600 years to when it was the capital of the Kingdom of Lap Am. Later it was part of the Kingdom of Champa before being annexed by the Nguyễn dynasty before it too was absorbed by France to become part of the Protectorate of Annam, and later part of the Republic of Vietnam.

Hue, population almost 300,000 has been called the heartbeat of Vietnam. Its main attractions are the tombs of the Nguyen emperors, several notable pagodas and the remains of the ancient citadel. The old town is located by the Perfume River (Song Huong) around the massive citadel. In 1993, UNESCO designated the complex of monuments in Hue a World Heritage site. Prior to this, between 1975 and 1990, the Vietnamese government was in danger of pulling many of the “feudal” Nguyen relics down, or at least letting them rot, as politically incorrect symbols of a corrupt past.

Hue is way more laid back than either Ha Noi or Sai Gon. Cyclo riders are a constant irritation. Their use as a bona fida means of hired transport has been largely relegated to the novel. Cyclists are still commonly seen on the streets of the old imperial capital. Taxis are now a common sight on Vietnamese streets. Cars, especially Japanese and Korean are more frequently seen, and everywhere of course, is the motorcycle. I’m especially fond of the Vespa, though it’s vastly outnumbered everywhere by its Japanese rivals. At night the moto riders and cyclos prowl the streets preying on pedestrians, “Where you go?” “You want massage?” This is invariably followed by inquiries from them about drugs and prostitution. One who kept pace with my friend and I down the street, having exhausted the list of questions twice delivered a parting shot of “fuck off” in good English before wheeling his bike around and heading off.

The city seems to be experiencing a power crisis. Most days there are scheduled power cuts. Today the electricity will be off between 2pm and ten at night. Being on the fourth floor of the building at least affords some natural ventilation, but unfortunately not sufficient to prevent being drenched by rivulets of perspiration. The lift in my hotel is probably the smallest I’ve ever seen. It can, at a squeeze, fit two people and is as deep as my shoulders are wide. As the power cuts do not always start exactly when the authorities state, it would be pay to be nowhere near the lift around the scheduled time in case you’re trapped, without air conditioning, in such a claustrophobic-inducing space for up to eight hours. The hotel management’s claims that should this occur the lift doors would open automatically, were a little unconvincing – what happens if the lift is between floors?

The local hairdresser offers a cut throat shave for US$2.50. By the time I’d sat down the four assistants were offering foot massage, a facial and manicure. After a great shave by a young Vietnamese woman, she offered to clean my ears with an instrument I’ve seen in dental surgeries and used for detecting cavities. I explained that there was no way she was putting such an instrument in my ear, or anywhere else for that matter, she seemed disappointed.

While in Hue, a tour of at least some of the tombs is a must. You could attempt this yourself by hiring a motorbike, or, as some others did, by bicycle. But as it’s several kilometres between each of the more significant sites and with temperatures by mid-morning already into the thirties with high humidity, an air-conditioned hire car and driver seemed a better choice. Regardless of which mode of transport you choose, be prepared to be assailed by hawkers at every site, though, to be fair, the intensity is much lower than most other tourist sites I’ve visited here and overseas.

Twelve kilometers from Hue on the west bank of the Perfume River is the tomb of the emperor Minh Mang. The entrance fee is a standard 55,000 dong (about US$3) for all tombs and photography inside the buildings is forbidden, though this doesn’t appear to deter some tourists. The emperor began construction himself in 1840 but died before it was completed, so work was eventually finished in 1843 under his son and successor, Thieu Tri. All up, Minh Mang’s Tomb consists of 40 buildings including palaces, tombs and pavilions built along a series of axis covering 28 hectares. It’s possible to stand at the doorway of one building and look down the steps and along the approach way, straight through the building constructed behind and so on. The site is surrounded by a number of waterways crossed by bridges and lined with trees from which hang large yellow lantern-like flowers. I failed to take a photo of them, assuming I’d see them elsewhere but they appeared to grow only there, pity.

The tomb of the Emperor Khai Dinh (ruled 1916-1925) took 11 years to complete, though the site is smaller than tombs of other emperors. The tomb is contentious among Vietnamese for its use of concrete and mix of Western and traditional architecture. This attempt at a fusion building style is seen by many as a reminder of the decline of Vietnamese culture during the colonial era. The overall construction of the tomb is a hill-site emerging rectangular structure with 127 steps leading up, hard work in the tropical heat. On entering the tomb grounds, I was observed a large party of Vietnamese army veterans descending the stairs, resplendent in their uniforms of distinctive bright green, many adorned with medals. At the bottom of the steps each posed in turn to have their picture taken by a Vietnamese photographer sporting a wide-angle lens. I noticed that despite the heat, none of the soldiers seemed to be sweating, whereas by comparison, I threatened to dissolve into a pool of perspiration.

On both sides of the courtyard, there are two rows of statues facing towards the centre, and made of stone, not concrete, rare for Khai Dinh, together with other statues representing bodyguard soldiers. In the main altar area the walls are densely decorated – almost comparable to Rococo style – with inlaid of elaborate glass and porcelain designs. The floor is covered with tile of flower design, the ceiling painted with nine dragons in fine fleeting clouds. The rear room of the Khai Thanh palace hosts the main temple, with a statue of Khai Dinh, his grave and his altar. The most noticeable characteristic of the tomb is the glassy and ceramic mosaics, a masterpiece of Vietnamese artisans early in the 20th century, an impressive sight.

After leaving Khai Dinh, we passed school kids on their way home, riding elegantly along on their bicycles, the morning shift over with for the day. Vietnam operates two school times, morning and afternoon, for which the kids all seem to wear the same uniform, pristine white shirt and dark blue trousers.

Tu Duc tomb is located in a narrow valley surrounded by pine eight kilometres from Hue, and is regarded as one of the finest works of royal architecture of the Nguyen dynasty. Construction started in December 1864 and finished in 1867. Inside the surrounding wall about 12 hectares wide, are nearly 50 constructions built on terraces of various levels, and divided into two main areas; the temple area and the tomb itself. While it conjures up images of mountains and lakes, beautiful it may be, spectacular it is not, but worth a visit nonetheless, if you have time.

After leaving the tomb, we drove down country lanes lined with shops selling cinnamon and sandalwood incense. The long sticks of multi-coloured incense were displayed a variety of ways, sometimes in a patterned circle or on shelves, all colour coordinated, a wonderful sight.

Vietnam is changing fast in the world’s fastest growing region. History in the main cities is competing for space with the need for development being led by often developers who don’t care too much for records of the country’s past. Modern is usually equated with what is new. While Ha Noi and Sai Gon are losing some of their cultural and architecture, Hue is managing to retain its history. To see Hue is to see where this country has come from and what has helped shape its future.