Hitting the Alaska Maritime Highway

Outside the Hanoi Hilton, the prison where incumbent Arizona Senator John McCain was incarcerated for six years (an experience almost as disheartening to him as losing to George W Bush in the 2000 presidential primary), I waved my hand and immediately an enterprising scooter driver pulled up beside me. Whether he was a professional driver will never be known, but anyone who can navigate Vietnam’s fast and furious traffic earns my respect. ‘Please take me to the Vietnam Peoples Air Force Museum,’ I asked (Truong Chinh St, Bach Mai District, an easy 10 minute trip from the city centre). I then hopped on the back of the Honda and plunged headlong into the non-descript outer ‘burbs’ of Hanoi.
Upon my arrival, I was overwhelmed by what unfolded in front of me. More like a junkyard than an orderly collection of artifacts, it was like a scene from dystopian fiction. I wandered amongst the haphazard arrangement of planes in a state of fascination, soaking in the surreal atmosphere of aircraft in various states of distortion and decay. I was struck by the amount of freedom I was afforded as I absorbed every nook and cranny. If I where at a museum in the west, security guards would be watching in case I inadvertently breathed upon the relics.
As I was the only visitor, I was free to wander at my heart’s content. As I ambled further into the collection, the prize piece revealed itself; the twisted remains of jumbo sized B-52 bomber. My state of excitement subsided into solemn reflection when I thought about the savage violence that had brought this behemoth to its fiery end and pondered the unimaginable suffering inflicted on each side of the conflict. In this reflective mood, I thought it time to head home. My driver had other plans. On the back of the bike I thought to myself, ‘This doesn’t look like the way back’. This was when mild concern crept in.
There was no need to worry. Seeing that I enjoyed the museum so much the driver used his local knowledge to show me something totally unexpected. Before me was the ragged remnants of a B-52 bomber brought down by a missile on the 27th of December 1972. The wreckage seemed incongruous against the suburban scene and is well known as B-52 lake or Huu Tiep Lake (Ngo.55 Hoang Hoa Tham Rd,Ngoc Ha). I invited my driver to sit down for a beer at the nearby B-52 café (recommended for its lakeside location). This great guide gained my gratitude for an aviation adventure that had me flying high.