The Train Steet and Snake Village

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After crashing hard at 8 am, I somehow dragged myself out of bed by noon. Missy? Still fast asleep, obviously. But I was determined not to waste the day, so I quietly slipped out, cigarette pack in hand, ready to explore Hanoi. The alley outside our homestay had already started to feel familiar, with its maze of doors and narrow paths. I figured it’d be a good idea to get acquainted with the neighborhood.

Feeling too lazy to go back to the room for a lighter, I approached a man who seemed to be running a small shop nearby. "Got a light?" I asked, miming a cigarette in my hand. He grinned, handed me a brand-new lighter, and before I could return it, he waved me off. “Gift from Vietnam!” he said, leaving me standing there in awe of the kindness. First day in Hanoi and I’d already scored a free lighter. I could get used to this.

Cig lit, I hit the main road, and it was as chaotic as ever—scooters flying past in all directions, people crossing streets like they had superpowers. The French colonial architecture stood out—elegant yet weathered by time. And the smells, oh man. Every corner seemed to have some street vendor tempting me with their dishes. The thought of Bánh Mì and Pho made my stomach rumble, but I wanted to see more before indulging again.

After an hour of wandering and taking mental notes of every little eatery I planned to return to, I headed back to the homestay. Missy? Still asleep. I thought about waking her but decided against it. I wasn’t in the mood for a nap, though the exhaustion was catching up. But before I knew it, we were both up and about by 5:30 pm “Let’s not waste the evening,” I said, and off we went.

The Train Street

If you’ve watched as many Vietnam vlogs as I have, you know that Hanoi’s Train Street is a must-visit, even though it's technically “closed” to tourists for safety reasons. Google Maps said it was about a 20-minute walk, so we set off through the lively evening streets, where Hanoi truly comes alive. The motorbike chaos seemed even more vibrant under the neon lights. If you’ve ever been enchanted by the oriental look, well, Hanoi will overload your senses. I was definitely enjoying the sights, if you know what I mean.

We reached Train Street to find it cordoned off by barriers, with security guards keeping tourists at bay. But there was no way I was leaving without stepping onto that iconic track. That’s when a lady appeared, shouting, "Café, café!" like some underground railway smuggler. She waved for us to follow her, and after a few glances exchanged between Missy and me, we did. Into a dark alley we went, through a backdoor, and suddenly we were on the track.

We crossed over to a café on the other side of the rail, one with more space and a decent view. The menu arrived, and I knew what I had to try—beer. I’m not a beer fan, but in Vietnam, when you hear that it’s just $1 for a glass, you kind of have to give it a go. “Hanoi or Saigon beer?” the waitress asked. I went with Hanoi, since, well, when in Hanoi…

Sitting there, beer in hand, we watched as tourists clicked pictures, sipped drinks, and soaked in the atmosphere. Train Street looked straight out of a postcard with its colorful, lantern-lit cafés and locals darting between tables. We were deep in conversation when suddenly we heard a distant rumble. The train—or rather, just the engine—rolled by. It wasn’t the full train I’d hoped for, but hey, it still counted!

As much as I’d love to say I finished the beer, I didn’t. Beer just isn’t my thing. After taking some photos, we headed back to the homestay, satisfied with our mini-adventure.

The Snake Village 

The next morning, we woke early and stepped out for breakfast. That’s when I stumbled upon Bánh Cuốn—thin rice rolls stuffed with minced pork, served with a side of fish sauce. Think of it as a delicate, savory pancake with a meat surprise inside. It quickly became my second-favorite Vietnamese dish after Pho. At just $3, it was not only delicious but a steal compared to anything you’d find in the West.

With full bellies, we went back to chat with Nu, the homestay owner, about renting a bike. She had a friend who could hook us up, and soon we had a scooter for 700 INR (about $8) for the day. The helmets we got looked more like fashion statements than safety gear, but hey, they were cute.

We’d heard about a place called Lệ Mật Snake Village—about an hour’s ride from Hanoi—where you could eat snake. It was a Harald Baldr vlog that inspired this idea, so off we went. The ride was exhilarating, zooming past rice paddies and small temples that looked like relics from another time. We even filled up the petrol tank at a station where the lady who filled the petrol had that same, effortlessly cute look. Seriously, is everyone here adorable?

Finally, we reached Lệ Mật. I asked around (thanks, Google Translate) and found a restaurant that served snake. When I mentioned my intention to try it, the staff got visibly excited. They brought out a snake—alive and wriggling— and quoted me 1 million dong (about $40). I agreed, and the ritual began.

The highlight? Drinking the snake's still-beating heart, followed by shots of its blood and bile. It sounds intense, and it was. Missy, a Northeast girl through and through, was up for the challenge, too. "We have the travel insurance in case I don't make it," I said to her jokingly. "Don’t leave me!" she replied laughing before I downed the heart shot. 

The meal that followed included snake spring rolls, snake soup, and even snake-skin “papad.” It was tasty enough, but the real satisfaction came from knowing we’d ticked something major off the bucket list.

The rest of the day was spent wandering through the rural outskirts of Hanoi, occasionally stopping at temples with ancient Chinese-style script on the walls. By the time dusk settled in, we were on our way back to Hanoi, tired but triumphant.

If you enjoyed reading this post, watch the vlogs on YouTube: Train Street, Snake Village

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