The Intercontinental Hanoi Westlake is snobbishly located in the outskits of the city - far, far away from the maddening orgy of millions of motorcycles and multitudes of hoi polloi. After all, in this day and age, accessibility and convenience are gauche; privacy and exclusivity are the real hallmarks of luxury.
But there's luxury, and then there's the Intercon Westlake. The property feels more like a resort, really. Its buildings "float" over the serenely placid Tay Ho (West Lake, the largest in the city) adjacent to the 800 year-old Golden Lotus Pagoda.
Each of the 198 rooms has a gorgeous private balcony that delivers almost painterly images of local life. For example, fishermen leisurely trawl the waters directly beneath your window.
It's such an Impressionist orgasm. I half expected to bump into Claude Monet, himself, waltzing along the torch-lit bridge with his easel and canvas and waterlily props. Imagine my surprise when out waltzed our friends, Paul and Jamie, instead, looking shockingly healthy. The boys happened to be vacationing in Vietnam at the same time as Chris and myself and were just making their way to the gym (of course). Meanwhile, Chris and I were making our way to (where else?) the bar.
The Sunset Bar's signature cocktails are creatively infused with Vietnamese flavours, and are similarly priced as you'd expect to pay in Hong Kong and Bali (around USD10++ per).
Chris and I waxed romantic about what I'd do if I moved back with him to Melbourne... What I'd like for a career, how I might get started, why it'd be painful and difficult.
Our conclusion was, it's all too complicated and we didn't really need the pressure or anxiety. What for, when you're sipping fabulously snobbish cocktails whilst perched on snobbishly oversized wicker furniture, overlooking the city's most snobbish lake, with a snobbishly purple sunset on the horizon?
I was zapped back to reality and had a panic moment when, upon having been presented the bill, I saw that there were bazillions of zeroes. I always knew that Chris and I could drink, but really, were we so caught up in our little, romantic interlude (we were only posing for Monet, what else!) that we ended up drinking the entire inventory of the Sunset Bar in one sitting?!?
Chris reminded me to settle down; we were being charged in Vietnamese dong. Thank goodness we could pay, coz we happened to be dong millionnaires.
Of course.
How very, very snobbish.
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| Chris contemplates life, in general. |
// Intercon Westlake //
