I’ve been in Hanoi for three months now. A quarter of my contracted time. It’s strange how quickly you become wrapped up in a new place. Even when I’m thinking of new things to write about; everything begins to blur together. The last three months have flown by. Rocketed by even.
The air is smoky and filled with the smell of sizzling chicken. Welcome to Chicken Street. Locals know it as Pho Ly Van Phuc – but I don’t believe it has quite the same ring.