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Old Hue is built on the left bank of the Perfume River, just a few kilometers upstream from the coast. Starting in the early 1800's the Vietnamese emperors started to copy the Chinese Ming emperors in another way: they started to plan and build tombs before their death and the tombs were pretty good copies of the Ming tombs. (We saw one in Nanjing and two outside of Beijing.) Like Ming tombs, they usually had an entry courtyard with statues of officials, several temples or halls for prayer, and the actual tomb being under an extremely large burial mound.

Several of these tombs as well as some independent temples are located upstream from Hue on the Perfume river. To see all of this we signed up for a one day tour at the bargain price of $3. Later we learned we could have had it for $2; our hotel was upscale so it charged more. As with almost every tour in Vietnam, you have to start early. We’d set the alarm for just before 7:00 a.m. and we were both awake before then, but the alarm going off set Gerry to jumping, according to Jan. We had plenty of time before the 8:00 a.m. (or possibly earlier?) pickup when the bus would come, so we lazed about, watching French news and then getting up and dressing. We went down to the hotel’s restaurant in the other end of the compound, first checking-in at the tour office. In the open-air restaurant we sat again at the far left for a bit of privacy and to get away from the TV, which was too loud and in Vietnamese. Most people in the place, about a dozen or more, were Vietnamese; later another western couple, maybe ten years younger than us, came in with backpacks and sat at the next table.

Breakfast over, Jan returned to the room for minute and Gerry  went over to the hotel tour office and sat down outside to wait. The rep asked him if we were ready to go; to our surprise he had been waiting on us rather than us waiting on a bus to arrive. Jan came in about 5 minutes and so just before 8:00 we were off, but, to our suprise, it was not via a bus. The rep led the two of us down the street a half block and then down to the river via a street that we had never noticed, although we'd crossed it several times. There we were put onto a tourist boat and we put off. We got only a few yards offshore when we anchored. That we anchored was not immediately apparent but became so as we began to wonder why we were not going anywhere.

The weather was fine; it was still early morning and we had not reached the full heat of the day.While waiting for whatever was to happen, Gerry went out of the cabin to the front of the boat to have a better view, and find a place with shade. During this time one of the crew asked Jan something about money for market. This lead to some confusion: was he asking if we wanted to order lunch and have him go and buy it? Where would we have it? When Gerry came in we discussed it. The crew man seemed to be asking for money, but we didn’t want to give it without knowing the answers to our questions. We decided to put off the issue.

In about ten minutes it become absolutely obvious what was happening/what had happened: Another boat, almost identical to ours, came along and we were transfered to it — we had been waiting for them. Now, including us, there were nine tourists aboard and three crew. The boat seemed to be a converted fishing boat; there are many on the river, both as fishing boats and as tourist boats. All are about 12 meters long and 3 meters wide. The fishing (or work) boats are generally unpainted with the aft having living quarters in the form of a quonset hut made of wood and mats. The tourist boats are painted in bright colors and the front has a dragon figurine, looking somewhat, at least in colors, like something seen in lion dances. There is an enclosed cabin, just tall enough to walk in, with vertical sides made of sliding glass windows and a roof that has a slight curvature to it. Inside our boat were stacking plastic chairs; about 6-7 could have been placed on each side, but we only needed 5 aside to seat all of us.

We set off downstream and quickly reached and went under the railway bridge — actually we hardly noticed we passed it, so intent were we on the banks, which, on the north side, was lined with shacks and had some people carrying out their daily lives in the water. We’d only been going five or ten minutes when we pulled over to the north bank. One of our crew got off and disappeared up the slope to and beyond the houses and linear village there. Once again no information was offered as to what was up. We guessed that the crew member had some small errand at home or with a relative and would be right back. No such luck. After ten minutes Gerry inquired, and was told that the fellow had gone grocery shopping for the lunch. Now it became clear to us what the earlier enquiry was all about. Of course now it seemed very possible that there would be no lunch for us.

But the bigger issue was that Gerry was told the standard, to him meaningless, "ten minutes” when he asked when the crew member would be back. Gerry was unhappy with this and thought he may as well go for a walk and see what was up the bank. So he jumped the few feet from bow to shore and was off. As soon as he was up the bank he caught sight of the market and wished that he’d been invited along. He turned to go there just as the crew member was returning. Rather than go to the boat Gerry insisted he get a chanceto see the market, taking the crew member in tow and giving him an earful that he most likely did not understand. Then both returned to the boat. The market seemed to be in the courtyard of a buddhist temple. There was a fancy gate at the street and back from the street he caught sight of what he thought was the (former) temple building. There were plenty of fresh vegetables, etc about in baskets on the ground.

At last, about 8:30, we set off upstream. The Perfume River goes nearly west to east in this section, so we were going west. About three kilometers upstream it makes a large bend to the left and nearly doubles back on itself in an arc with a radius of about a kilometer. The reason is that to the west of where we were there are mountains, with the most prominent feature being two humps worthy of the name Grand Tetons, if that had not already been used in Wyoming. (The land lying in front of it was essentially an alluvial plain, like so much of Vietnam.) Thus the sight we were presented along the river was of a very green mountain range, forested, as much as we could tell. To the right the bank was initially populated, but that soon gave way, so that it matched the left, and both sides were agricultural, with a lot of palm trees, but not exclusively. The river was of constant width, about a half kilometer, and not very deep, as we could tell by the poling of various boats. In fact, many of them were sand collectors, the sand presumably to be used for construction. On one boat, near the far shore, the person on the far side was standing in the water and bringing up sand with a shovel and putting it in the boat. On the side closer to us two people were working together: one had a metal scoop at the end of a pole. She would shove it into the sand while her partner would pull it with a rope to fill it and then pull it to the surface.

After almost two kilometers we came in sight of the Thien Mu Pagoda and it was soon clear that it would be our first stop. The pagoda is near the river and its most significant feature is a tapering octagonal tower of about 7 stories or 21 meters. From the river there are a pair of flights of steps that lead up to the pagoda, but the bottom has been worn away. Our boat pulled into the mud, near three or four other banked tourist boats, and we were told that we had 20 minutes to see the place. That seemed rushed, but it was enough, even to see the temple behind, which Jan, more wisely than Gerry, had assumed would be there. Getting back into the boat we headed farther upstream, going left around the bend and getting good views of the mountains and banks from all angles. For the next section of our journey, Jan sat outside of the cabin to enjoy the breeze, to have an unobstructed view of both banks of the river and to be as far as possible from the noise of the boat’s motor which in the cabin was unbearably loud. Gerry solved that problem with ear plugs. The weather was gorgeous in the early morning as the sky was completely clear the sun was shining and yet with the breeze off the water it was very comfortable.

After an hour more on the river we saw a ferry, labeled in Lonely Planet as a car ferry, but filled with two very large dump trucks, cross the river in our path. That told Gerry that we were on the map, but he didn’t remember for what. He should have gotten LP out and checked. In another ten minutes we passed the ferry port and pulled into the east bank. There we were told we would next visit the Khai Dinh Tomb, the site on our tour furthest from the city. When we had originally signed up for the tour it had been indicated we would see this tomb last. Gerry’s thought had been to not take the boat back to town and instead find land transportation. That would easily save 30-45 minutes and give us a view of Hue’s outskirts and maybe enough time at the Citadel to make it worthwhile. Now that was out. But it wasn’t all that important. Incidentally, The "nh" of "Dinh" is pronounced a bit like English "ng", so the pronunciations is approximately "Ding".

We’d also been told when we signed up that we’d take motor-scooter-taxis to see Tu Duc’s Tomb. Now we learned that we’d use them here. We’d heard of them via LP but never used one. The idea is simple. The "taxi” driver rides the scooter in front and the passenger rides in the back. Two on a scooter in Vietnam is a small number, so in theory we should be pretty comfortable at doing it. But, and it’s a big but, we had never done it. The nine of us tourists got off and went up the bank to the motor scooters. By the time Jan and Gerry were there the others had already bargained with the drivers and reached agreement on the price. It would have been better if the tour operator or the boat operators had done it in advance and told us what was the standard price. But that is not the way it is done here.

The negotiations done, we got on and the posse was off. Our first experience of taxi scoooters — and it was fun. Since we didn’t fall it wasn’t dangerous in the first place —   right? We went through a small village and on its outskirts Gerry’s driver pointed to a more modest than usual shack and said that was his home. Most of the road was dirt with some packed gravel. After a few kilometers of countryside we were there. "There” was a large gravel area in front of the steps leading up to the tomb. We got off, went over to the small ticket booth, and bought our tickets at D55000 each or $4; since it was less than the expected $5 we almost felt we got a bargain. But for Vietnam $4 seems pricey, especially considering that our boat ride and lunch for the day came to $3!

Our visit to Khai Dinh introduced us to the heat of Vietnam or more generally of the tropics. Most everyplace we’d been in Vietnam except a few days in Nha Trang had been unusually cool or cloudy or both, to Gerry’s pleasure. In Nha Trang we spent the hot hours on the beach with its cooling breeze. Here now we were faced with a large expanse of stone and concrete. And the sun was shinning. So we were quickly hot and sought the shade.

The Khai Dinh complex consists of three levels: from the front one goes up 30 steps to a plaza that has on each side, from front to back, an elephant, a horse, and four court officers, all in stone and all perhaps 80% of life size. (The Mings, having a bigger country, had more statues.) In front of these two rows there is a row of soldiers, proportionally sized. In the back center is a stelle hall. Up the another 13 steps is the third and last level. There is a single building with Emperor Khai Dinh’s tomb. The outside of the building was probably originally grey or white concrete, but after almost a century of tropical weather, it is now almost black with the effects of the humidity, making it quite ugly. Inside, it is a great example of excess. It is very ornately decorated in a kind of mosaic, but unlike the beauty of Persian mosques it is multi-colored in a garish way.

On the ride back Gerry’s driver offered to stop for a picture of the fine country side. Why did he do this? Such kindness is unusal; it usually leads to a "chance” to buy something. Gerry declined and never found out what, if anything, was up. We got back into the boat and now headed downstream, in the direction of Hue, and our next stop, the Minh Mang Tomb. We nearly got to the ferry crossing and then turned left ourselves and went to the river bank and pulled in. For a stretch of several hundred meters there were low sand cliffs along the bank, totaling ten meters or so in height. A path was cut through the cliff, but it still required a steady gait to get up. At the top we crossed a small road, passed the usual vendors of drinks and trinkets who don’t know the meaning of any part of "no,” and walked through a field a hundred meters to the ticket booth. The price, not surprisingly, was D55000. The smaller, "control” part of the ticket torn off, and the larger, sourvenir part of the tickets in hand, we went in.

In one sense, once you have seen one church, you have seen them all. But a Byzantine basilica is far different than a New England chapel. And similarly, once you’ve seen one tomb of a Vietnamese Emperor you’ve seen them all. But Minh Mang, who came first and died first, had a tomb that is far different than Khai Dihn’s. The entry is a formal gate that is approached from the river side, but as it closed to tourists we came in the side of the gate. Just beyond it is a plaza or court that has, like the Nanjing Ming’s and Khai Dinh's, a line of stone figures on each side. These were also, in order, elephant, horse, and officials. Here, unlike Khai Dihn, there was only one row of figures on each side, not two. Looking beyond the court there is a stele hall up on a mound or small hill. It has a pleasant aspect to it; getting there we felt like we were in a small summer pavillion. An equal distance beyond that is the approach building to the formal tomb hall and then the formal hall.. To our great disappointment when we got to formal hall we saw that it was covered in scaffolding. Going around it we found a mound under which Minh Mang was buried. This bore a great resemblance to the Nanjing Ming tomb but was not copied by Khai Dinh, who, as noted went for a "modern”, Napoleon-like coffin. From there we walked along the lake that surrounds the compound. It’s rather pleasant, but not remarkable.

After the vist we were the last back to the boat and found that lunch had started. Before we had left to see the Minh Mang tomb we’d seen the crew moving the chairs and putting three mats on the planks that pretty much covered them. Now everybody but us was seated cross-legged on them, their backs to the walls with the food in the center. We took the two empty places toward the bow and the boat set off downstream towards our next and last two stops. While we travelled we ate. The meal was simple but tasty. There was a plate of spicy thin yellow noodles, a slice of some kind of omelette/pancake with scallions, some crispy pancakes stuffed with some kind of meat (I think!) and then plates of rice to share. Soft drinks were available, but these had to paid for at the rather expensive price of D8000 ($0.55) each, a sixth of what we'd paid for an all-day boat ride.

After lunch, and just before we reached it, we noticed (again) the Hon Chen Temple. The "again” is because on the way upstream Gerry had seen it and photographed it from afar. When we pulled into the bank most of our fellow passengers asked how much it would cost to see it. They were obviously tired of spending money on entrance fees. When they were told it was D22000 they opted out, with us the only takers. We did meet a British couple in the temple that we had seen earlier at Minh Mang’s tomb, but they were on a private boat. Jan found the Hong Chen quite charming not least because of the lack of other tourists and was happy to have paid her money. The temple was dark inside and old and had two rooms, the back room, however, being up a set of steps. The idols were in old wood cabinets that were very nicely carved and were decorated with lovely silk parasols. There were also display cabinets with items owned by the temple, including somewhat surprisingly two porcelain vases with Christian scenes painted on them. It was so nice to be somewhere without noise!

The twenty minute visit over we got into the boat, went a small distance downstream, and then crossed the river. Our next stop would be Tu Duc’s Tomb and we knew we’d have to travel some via scooter. But on the shore, confusingly enough, was a temple or other site that was clearly recently built but in an old style. Was this a new entrance to the tomb area?  As we came to shore we got into a discussion of what the scooters would cost. Gerry asked what others had paid for the previous ride and learned that the best price had been D20000 ($1.50) per person, round trip. That showed that Jan had been right and he’d seriously overpaid. Now he suggested that we all negotiate as a unit, insisting on D10000 per person for the round-trip, since it was about half as far here from shore to tomb as at Khai Dinh. The Chinese/Vietnamese-Canadian couple were drafted and did a fine job. In just a few seconds it was agreed: all would pay D10000.

So once again the posse was off. The route, while shorter, was more hilly. We climbed gently the first kilometer, turned right, went through a village, and then turned left and stopped in from of the tomb complex. The number of hawkers here was double what we’d seen at Minh Mang. The ticket price was the same: D55000. We had an hour there and it was just enough, unless one were to simply linger. Emperor Tu Duc easily wins the prize for most pleasant tomb. From the entrance one first comes to the temple compound, which we initially skipped, and then to the tomb compound, which we visited first. Along the way we walked along part of the moat; this moat is one of the most pleasant we’d ever seen, probably because it is not all straight and right angles. The tomb compound starts with a stele pavillion and there was an undefinable harmony about it that really pleased us, inspite of its poor state. The tomb itself was unusual for a Chinese or Vietnamese emperor: it was a stone casket, hardly larger than life size, set in a walled courtyyard, with the obligatory screen wall in front of the entrance. Not as impossing as Napoleon’s casket or that of Xerxes (Kourosh-e-Kabir) in the desert beyond Persepolis. Surprisingly modest, and fitting for the complex.

The temple complex was of almost identical style to that of Minh Mang, but for the most part in much better shape. Probably there had been repairs here that were already complete whereas those of Minh Mang were still being done. The main hall or temple had a wonderful dark wood roof and carved beams that reminded Jan of the pavilions in some of the Suzhou gardens. Beyond and to the right was a theatre, with the Emperor’s "box” and elevated recess. The intimacy gave it a fine character. Our hour up we left the compound. Everybody else was waiting in front, so we rode back in posse and walked down the slope to the boats.

By this time it was late afternoon, not late enough to be cool yet, but late enough for most people to be tired and ready to relax and not do touristy things. Jan went as far forward as she could and read on deck; just below her the Welsh guy who had joined the tour with us from the Le Loi hotel & Swiss woman chatted; none of the three seemed to give a glance or care a whit about the scenery that passed. The other six of us sat inside. Most talked and perhaps also looked little at the country. Gerry read some but mostly looked and absorbed, seeing again the sand miners, the shacks, and the trees. This time he better understood the community along the west bank and noticed us passing under the train bridge. Initially we were three on the left and three on the right. But the sun was on the left and soon it was two and four. That worried the crew, indicating by sign language that the boat was out of balance. Gerry reluctantly moved to the center, but he didn’t want to be on the left either, and he had started on the right!

Almost back we passed our put-in place and continued on under the Phu Xuan bridge. We tried to ask why we weren't let ashore, but were waved off. Reluctantly we accepted that the tour people know best and always come through. So we waited. The boat continued downstream and went ashore just before the Trang Tien bridge, close by the biggest concentration of hotels in Hue. There all but us departed. Our reluctant confidence was justified as then the boat then took us upstream, and let us off where we got on the transfer boat. We were now on our own, but had no reason to complain as it was only a few blocks, and we walked to our hotel, very happy with our new friend, the Perfume River.