The first trip in my life is when I was 10 years old. Me and my mother went to Hanoi to visit the family of my mother’s uncle. He participated in the wars in Vietnam, and after the war ending, he moved to the South to settle down his life. In my mind, it is always the most remarkable trip so far. Me and my mother visited Hanoi on the occasion of Vietnam's National Day, on 2nd September.
Source: Internet
No word can describe my feelings before the trip. Although the trip had not happened yet, I had started feeling happy since a week before. To prepare for the trip, my mother made me two sets of pajamas . It seems ridiculous but it was my most beautiful clothes at that time. I brought them into my sleep, and was eagerly waiting for the departure day to wear them.
This is the similar photo of the set of pyjama my mother made for me. Source: Internet
And that day had come, I had spent all week to prepare my luggage with endless happiness, and all of what I brought was two sets of new clothes and a few comic books. I counted every hour to board the train to departure to Hanoi. The train started rolling, speeding up, speeding up. I glanced at the last cabin, it seemed the cabin had stretched until the horizon. Looked at the outside, I felt like I was a flash of lightning. My eyes opened widely and constantly without blinking once as if I closed even one second, I would miss the most beautiful view. Being like that for hours, the sun went down and the weather was colder. I felt into sleep.
Finally, me and my mother arrived Hanoi after 22 hours on train. The hustle and bustle in Hanoi contrasted with the quietness in my hometown. That made me more curious about the people living here who kept the street busy all the time. My grandpa took us to his home in a small street, a house of only 20 square meters with 3 floors. There was no house like that in my hometown. My house in hometown was just a four-level house with a width of up to 200 square meter. I asked my mother about this difference, she only told me that “in Hanoi, an inch of soil is an inch of gold”. Up to growing up, I understood its meaning. However, very quickly, my curiosity fade out, I enjoyed running up and down the stairs in the house.
This is me and my mother. My aunt bought me these new clothes.
She had new clothes. She looked so happy
The most memorable place my uncle took me and my mother to is Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum. This is the place known for honouring the national hero: President Ho Chi Minh. For a moment, the solemn ritual of the marching soldiers in front of the Mausoleum brought me back to the lessons I had learned about Uncle Ho at school. That was an indescribable feeling when I thought that the legend only appeared in book and television, at that time, I was touching them. Me- a ten years old girl tried to be quiet and dignified as her mother appearance going inside the Mausoleum.
Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum. Source: Internet
Me and my uncle in Ho Chi Minh Museum
There were many memories of that trip I save in my mind until now. The first time I saw The Street Hawkers in The 36 Streets, the first time I saw The Sword Lake. I love Hanoi since that day. Many times later, I went back to Hanoi to find the feeling of the past, but I can't get that feeling again. Maybe, the reason is that I am not a ten years old girl anymore.
The specialties of Hanoi
Thank you for reading and have a great Sunday.
