Many people pass through Vinh on their way to Hanoi or Ho Chi Minh City. Rarely does anyone stop for more than the one night necessary to catch up on some sleep. Living in Vinh, I feel that the city has more to offer than just a hotel bed.

True, this port on the Gulf of Tonkin can hardly be called a testimony to Vietnam's past. It was almost completely destroyed in the wars against the French and the Americans. However, this may be exactly what gives Vinh its relevance: it is an example of the living present. If you go to Hoi An to experience Vietnam's past, why not go to Vinh to experience the country as it is today?

Although there is not much physical evidence left of the past, Vinh, the capital of Nghe An Province, has played its role in history. Both Ho Chi Minh and Phan Boi Chau were born in this province. It was the setting for an uprising against the French in the late 19th century and for the beginnings of the Nghe Tinh Soviet Movement in the 1930s. The Ho Chi Minh Trail starts in this province and much of the material moved down the trail came through Vinh's port.

Arriving in the city on the Reunification Express, the train station is fronted by a large boulevard which is characteristic of Vinh. There is enough space so that an oxcart can turn around easily or for cars to dodge past a phalanx of up to six bicycles and possibly a motorcycle, too, without a problem. The middle section is planted with shade trees. Phan Boi Chau Street is lined with shops on both sides--open-fronted stalls that seem to sell everything from wire fencing to conical hats.

Travel in a cyclo and you have ample opportunity to observe the other traffic. Young, well-dressed women with long, flowing hair ride bicycles to school or university. Middle-aged farmers wearing jungle hats take 150-kilogram pigs to the market, balanced on their backs and a motorcycle's luggage rack. Other cyclo drivers transport anything from sewage pipes to boxes of bottled water. Decrepit cars bulge with passengers. Buses loaded high with produce and sounding their shrill horns incessantly roar down the fast lane. Schoolboys who are too small for their bicycles, but still try to keep up with your cyclo, ask where you're from. Although it is busy, the pace is moderate.

Vinh's main streets are not very imaginative: wide and straight, as if they had been conceived on a drawing board. And they were. After the American war, the city was basically rebuilt from scratch. Rather obviously, though, a lot of the money came from the former East Germany. At the end of Phan Boi Chau Street, you turn right onto Le Loi, past the big box that is the government-owned Huu Nghi Hotel on the left. With its unadorned gray concrete, it is reminiscent of buildings in East Berlin.

Continuing south down Le Loi to the main market, you pass more proof of East German involvement: rectangular, multi-storied concrete blocks looking like beehives with their regular monotony of door--window--door--window, provide living space for hundreds of people. However, painted yellow, with wash flapping about in the wind and balconies transformed into miniature gardens with potted plants and caged birds, they are much more alive and cheerful than the Huu Nghi. Without exception, the ground floor apartments have been converted to open-fronted restaurants and shops. East Germany in an Asian setting or Asia in an East German setting? A German myself, I sometimes wonder which country I am in.

For the traveler, there is no problem in finding a hotel room. Hotels are numerous and run the whole price range. Once the visitor has found himself a base, exploration can begin. There are plenty of cyclos and motorcycle taxis waiting for customers and they will gladly take you to the Hong Son Temple close to the main market, the Can Linh (Women's Temple) on Phan Dinh Phung Road or Quyet Mountain, about two miles southeast toward the Lam River.

Knowing the revolutionary history of Nghe An Province, it is a surprise to find any surviving temple in the capital, let alone two. The communists destroyed or closed down temples and pagodas and in Nghe An, they were even more thorough than elsewhere. The two temples are oases of quiet in an otherwise busy city. You approach the Hong Son Temple through a park that prepares you for the atmosphere inside. An impressive frangipani tree with white and yellow flowers just inside the gate of the temple compound greets the visitor. Overgrown by ferns, the tree's branches look like the furry limbs of a mythical beast cradling an altar with burning joss sticks. A low tree hides the entrance of the temple itself. The three wooden doors are open and the interior is sumptuous with gilding: golden Chinese characters on red signs, an altar with golden figures between golden pillars under blue gables. A figure in a brown habit is kneeling in front of the altar, swaying in the rhythm of his (or her) chants, lighting joss sticks.

Unfortunately, one is not allowed to take pictures of the Hong Son Temple once inside the entrance gate. There is no such restriction in the Women's Temple, which is really a pagoda. Slightly outside Vinh, its location sets it even further apart from the pace of the city. The pagoda dates back to the Le Dynasty, about 500 years ago. It started life as a small temple before being enlarged by two particularly industrious nuns, which is why it is called the Women's Temple.

The pagoda is surrounded by a big garden containing not only an impressive vegetable plot but also some low bushes that are cut in such a way that they form letters and words, admonishing the visitor to be quiet and do nothing but good. Where else are you scolded by topiary? A white statue of Quan The Am Bo Tat (Goddess of Mercy) adorns the front yard. She looks calm and definitely above reproach.

The caretaker may allow you access to the inner yard--a very special, secluded place, removed from the rest of the world. You must greet the head of the pagoda who is too old and frail to move and then you are left to admire this sanctuary. A bell tower with yellow and blue pillars is the centerpiece of the yard, but it is shrouded by so many magnificently flowering, potted plants that it is difficult to get a good view of the whole. You may follow the roofed porch around the square, looking into the "memorial" room, where commemorative tablets and photographs of the deceased are displayed on the altar or into the room set aside for the worship of "Uncle Ho". You probably avert your eyes when you pass rooms that are obviously lived in by the nuns. Reluctantly leaving this place of peace and quiet, you might cast a glance into the pagoda itself and see a group of women praying, chanting and sounding a little gong in front of three rows of golden Buddhas.

You may have overindulged in Vinh's famous eel soup or perhaps consumed too much lizard-flavored rice wine--suppose you want to get some exercise. A climb of Quyet Mountain is rewarding, both for the activity and for the view. You follow Nguyen Du Street and turn right off the main road when you see the Ben Thuy Bridge. You turn into a maze of small dirt roads between narrow walls, shielding the one-storied houses from view. Another five minutes on the rutted road takes you to the foot of the mountain from where you start climbing the 400 steps through cool pine forest. Rocks that had been eroded before the mountain was replanted stick out from the soil. We are told that the mountain was completely bare after the war. Anti-aircraft units had been stationed there and repeated bombing had stripped it of all vegetation.

On the top plateau, the trail forks. From the knife-backed ridge on the left, magnificent views of Vinh and the river open up. Vinh is larger than expected and you can see where you have been only by looking for the two tall post office towers. The view of the river is stunning. It meanders peacefully between rice paddies on its right shore and a bare mountain on its left. The afternoon sun is reflected off the ever-present water in irrigated fields and immerses the landscape in an unreal light. Sampans slowly float up and down the river. From the viewpoint at the end of the trail, just below us, you see a shipyard where wooden ships are being built. From this direction you can also look downstream, toward the sea. The river widens and encircles an island that looks uninhabited except for a graveyard shining white in the sun.

When it is time to return, you can choose whether to retrace your steps or take the right fork in the trail, which is a longer route down the mountain, running comfortably in the shade of the pine trees, with more vistas of Vinh and a few lonely graves. Some visitors like to view Vinh from the river. Behind the market you can hire sampans that will take you slowly down the Cua Tien River all the way to its junction with the Lam River.

When you've had enough of the city and feel like heading for the beach, a taxi ride of 25 minutes takes you to Vinh's beach resort, Cua Lo. Shacks made from wooden planks, palm leaf mats and the occasional corrugated iron provide you with shade and there are drinks to be had while you enjoy the sandy beach that seems to run on forever.

Cua Lo can be busy--it is a favorite destination for Hanoians during the summer holidays. However, you can stop anywhere along the beach road, walk through the casuarina trees to the dunes and enjoy the sea in solitude, perhaps interrupted by an occasional fisherman dragging for prawns or children collecting casuarina needles for fuel. A third possibility is to cross the river on the Ben Thuy Bridge, an impressive, modern construction, turn off immediately to the left and then continue to Xuan Thanh Beach, which is about the same distance from Vinh as Cua Lo but lies in the neighboring province, Ha Tinh. The Lam River forms the border between the two provinces. Some people think that Xuan Thanh is even more beautiful than Cua Lo.

The people of Vinh are not used to foreigners and practically everyone wants to try out their few phrases of English. The standard questions are: "What's your name? Where you from?" but may extend to more personal ones such as "How old are you? Are you married? How many children?" This can be the beginning of a friendly conversation and an invitation into someone's home, but it can get rather tedious after twenty repetitions.

Between walking, bathing and taking in the modern atmosphere of the city, there is more than enough to do in Vinh to justify one or two extra nights' stay. Don't forget to take in the Zulu Bar on Le Loi--this is where Vinh's nightlife is at! And the ideal venue for a farewell dinner is the Phu Nguyen Hotel on Le Loi Street. In good weather you can admire a breathtaking sunset from the open-air restaurant on the fourth floor and Vinh's nighttime panorama afterward--a pleasure not to be missed.

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Traveling Details:

Vinh can be reached by bus from all directions, as Highway No. 1 goes through it. The main bus station is on Duong Le Loi. The Sinh Cafe backpacker's bus arrives in Vinh from both directions in the middle of the night (2 a.m.) and has to be told specifically to stop. The train station (Ga Vinh) is at the western end of Duong Phan Boi Chau. Two so-called V-trains a day leave Vinh for Hanoi, one at 7:00 a.m. and one at 9:30 p.m. The Reunification Express stops in Vinh, too, but as there are sometimes holdups, it is not as reliable as the V-trains that start in Vinh. The ticket-selling staff can be unhelpful when faced by foreigners, so it might be an idea to ask the hotel staff to buy the ticket for you. A soft seat to Hanoi costs the equivalent of US$ 9, a berth is US$ 15, depending on which level you prefer. There are six berths in a compartment.

Vinh can also be reached by plane (about US$ 80 from Hanoi). The small airport is northeast on the outskirts of the town. Taking a plane out of Vinh is more of a problem: due to a shortage of planes, Vietnam Air flies only to Danang three times a week--on Saturdays, Mondays and Wednesdays (US$ 50). However, cancellations of flights are common.

A number of hotels offer a range of accommodation from US$ 17 to US$ 70. The best ones (nice and cheap) are the Phu Nguyen Hai on Duong Nguyen Trai, the Kim Thai San on Duong Nguyen Thai Hoc and, somewhat more expensive, the Saigon Kim Lien on Quang Trung . The state-owned Huu Nghi is overpriced. After extensive renovation, the Saigon Kim Lien re-opened mid-May 1999. Its restaurant is the best in town, offering both European and Asian dishes. The restaurant in the Phu Nguyen Hai offers mainly Vietnamese dishes and the quality stands and falls with the chef on duty.

Transport within Vinh is more of a problem than in other places in Vietnam that are more oriented toward tourists. While there are many taxis, motorcycle taxis and cyclos, you cannot rent bicycles or motorcycles. Four-wheel drives can be hired for about US$ 100 a day.