Hanoi's Hidden Gem: New Century Hotel—Unbelievable Luxury Awaits!
The Grand Majestic Chaos: A Review That's Less "Fine Dining" and More "Family Dinner"
Alright, buckle up, buttercups. We’re diving headfirst into a review of… well, something. Let's just say it's a hotel, and it calls itself “Grand Majestic.” And let me tell ya, the “Grand” part? Yeah, that’s up for debate. The "Majestic"? Jury's still out. This review? Guaranteed to be a hot mess, just like my attempts to pack a decent suitcase.
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(The Arrival – Or, How I Became Best Friends with the Doorman, Briefly)
First impressions? Eh. It's… a building. The doorman, bless his heart, looked like he’d seen a ghost and was desperately trying to remember his training. He, however, did manage to open the door, which is more than I can say for my last relationship. The whole "Doorman" thing? A nice touch, especially after the hellish airport transfer. Speaking of which…
Getting Around & Airport Transfer (aka The Great Escape): The airport transfer? Okay, so I paid for the "luxury" shuttle. Luxury felt more like a mildly dusty minivan. But hey, it did get me there, and that counts for something, right? They’ve got car park [free of charge] and car park [on-site] – which, again, felt more like a dusty patch of tarmac. Valet parking too, if you’re feeling fancy, which I definitely wasn’t after the flight. They also tout bicycle parking – because, you know, who doesn’t bring their bike on a trip like this? Taxi service is available, as is the aforementioned Airport transfer.
(Accessibility – The Real Test):
Right, so, Wheelchair accessible? Yes, technically. There are ramps. But maneuvering felt like navigating a minefield of potted plants and bewildered tourists. Trying to find the Elevator became a quest akin to the Holy Grail. And while they advertise Facilities for disabled guests, I'm pretty sure the "facility" mostly involved a slightly wider doorframe and a prayer.
On-site accessible restaurants / lounges? Uh, debatable again. The main restaurant, "The Golden Spoon" (I swear, someone needs a thesaurus!), seemed accessible, but the tables were crammed so close together, a skinny cat would struggle.
(Internet – The Digital lifeline):
Okay, let’s be real. In this day and age, Wi-Fi is more essential than oxygen. The Free Wi-Fi in all rooms! was a godsend. And it actually worked! Pretty consistently, too. Internet [LAN] is also listed, but who even uses LAN anymore? Internet services are… well, there. The lobby Wi-Fi, however, in the Wi-Fi in public areas, was spotty at best. Made me miss the dinosaurs, because at least their internet provider was probably more reliable.
(Rooms – My Temporary Prison… Sorry, Haven):
Here’s where things get interesting. Available in all rooms: *Air conditioning (thank god!), Alarm clock, Bathrobes (fluffy!), Bathroom phone (seriously, who uses that?), Bathtub, Blackout curtains (essential for sleeping off regrettable decisions), Carpeting (old and slightly suspect), Closet, Coffee/tea maker, Complimentary tea (a nice touch!), Daily housekeeping (thank you, lovely cleaner!), Desk, Extra long bed (appreciated after a flight from hell), Free bottled water (hydration is key!), Hair dryer, High floor (yay for a view!), In-room safe box, Interconnecting room(s) available (for the family you *didn’t* bring, maybe?), Internet access – LAN (again, why?), Internet access – wireless (see above), Ironing facilities, Laptop workspace, Linens, Mini bar, Mirror, Non-smoking (thankfully!), On-demand movies (mostly terrible, but entertaining), Private bathroom, Reading light, Refrigerator, Safety/security feature, Satellite/cable channels (zombie apocalypse viewing pleasure!), Scale (for judging how much you've eaten), Seating area, Separate shower/bathtub, Shower, Slippers (the true luxury!), Smoke detector, Socket near the bed, Sofa, Soundproofing, Telephone, Toiletries (meh), Towels, Umbrella, Visual alarm, Wake-up service, Wi-Fi [free], Window that opens.*
My room? Oh, it was a thing. The décor screamed "1980s, but with more beige." The Non-smoking room, blessedly, was actually non-smoky. The Blackout curtains were a lifesaver. The Slippers? The only thing that really lived up to the "Grand" expectation. The View? Of a dumpster. But hey, at least it was a view, and I needed it. The Bed Was huge and comfy. However, there was a strange stain on the carpet that I really didn't want to investigate. Room decorations consisted of a generic landscape print that could have been bought at a gas station.
(Cleanliness & Safety – Did Someone Remember to Sanitize?):
Okay, this is where I got a little…anxious. Cleanliness and safety are supposed to be a priority these days, right? Anti-viral cleaning products were touted. Daily disinfection in common areas. Rooms sanitized between stays. Staff trained in safety protocol. Hand sanitizer everywhere (thank god). And they offer Room sanitization opt-out available, which I’d assume is to save money. Sterilizing equipment was also apparently in use. But… the carpets. The lingering smell of… something. The not-quite-immaculate grout in the bathroom. It all left me feeling like a detective on a mission to find the truth about what was really going on.
(Dining, Drinking, and Snacking – The Great Culinary Adventure):
Okay, this is where it gets really interesting. A la carte in restaurant? Yes, but the menu was about as exciting as watching paint dry. Asian cuisine in restaurant? Yes, but it was about as authentic as a plastic samurai sword. Bar? Good. Poolside bar? Even better (and the cocktails were strong, which is always a plus). Breakfast [buffet]? The highlight. Restaurants? Several. Room service [24-hour]? A lifesaver. Snack bar? Useful. Vegetarian restaurant? Yes…a bit bland, though.
I ventured into "The Golden Spoon" for dinner one night. Disaster. I ordered the "International Cuisine" (read: microwaved slop) The Salad in restaurant? Wilted. The Soup in restaurant? Bland. The Desserts in restaurant? Looked like they’d been rescued from a 1970s time capsule, but still tasty. Bottle of water was provided…but I had to ask for it. The coffee? Undrinkable.
The Breakfast [buffet], however, was a glorious mess of scrambled eggs, questionable sausages, and an array of pastries that may or may not have been made in the last century. The Asian breakfast option was… intriguing. The Western breakfast options were more my speed and they had Coffee/tea in restaurant.
The Happy hour was great. Happy hour? A true goddamn highlight, for sure. The pool was nice! Pool with view and Buffet in restaurant – so you can enjoy a decent meal, while enjoying the view.
(Things to Do & Ways to Relax – The Spa-tastic Journey):
Okay, time to unwind… or at least pretend to. Sauna? Check. Spa? Check. Spa/sauna? Check. Steamroom? Check. I even indulged in a Body scrub. Pure heaven. I also went for a Massage, after which I felt like a new woman… or at least a marginally less stressed one. They also offer Body wrap. The Pool with view? Gorgeous. Swimming pool? Yes. Swimming pool [outdoor]? Yup. Fitness center? Pretty decent. Gym/fitness? Good enough. Foot bath? Didn’t try it, afraid it'd be another mess.
(Services and Conveniences – The Good, The Bad, and the Beige):
The list here is long, so brace yourselves. Air conditioning in public area? Yes, and it worked…mostly. Audio-visual equipment for special events? Probably, but I'm not sure
Unbelievable Hidden Oasis: Sombra e Agua Fresca, Tibau do Sul!
Alright, buckle up, buttercups! Because this ain't your grandma's sterile, bullet-point travel itinerary. We're diving headfirst into the glorious, chaotic mess that is Hanoi, starting… drumroll … at the New Century Hotel (apparently, they sell themselves as "new," which, frankly, feels a tad optimistic, but hey, I'm here for the adventure!).
Hanoi: A Gritty, Glorious Love Affair (in roughly-ish chronological order)
Day 1: Arrival (and Immediate Panic About Motorbikes)
Morning (or whenever the heck I drag myself out of bed): Arrive at Noi Bai International Airport. Okay, first off: the airport smells like… well, a Southeast Asian airport. Incense, exhaust fumes, and a hint of something vaguely deep-fried. Embrace it! Currency exchange. Always underestimate how much cash you'll need. Always. My initial reaction? "Oh god. I'm utterly and completely lost already." But that's half the fun, right?
The Taxi Tango: Snag a pre-booked taxi (smart move, Past Me!), because haggling at the airport with jetlag is just… no. The first five minutes in the taxi were a masterclass in white-knuckle driving. Motorbikes. MOTORBIKES EVERYWHERE. Literally a river of them flowing around us. I swear, I saw a chicken riding shotgun at one point. True story.
Check-in at New Century Hotel (or, The "New" in "New Century" is Up For Debate): The hotel itself. Okay. It's… functional. The air conditioning is battling the Hanoi humidity in a silent, epic war. The room? Clean enough. The view? Let's just say it's not vying for any "Most Scenic" awards. (Though, honestly, I'm more excited about the street food prospects than the view!)
Lunch: Bun Cha, the First Bite of Bliss (and My First Near-Death Experience with Chopsticks): Okay, this is why I'm here. I find a little hole-in-the-wall near the hotel. The lady doesn't speak a lick of English. I point. She smiles. I get a mountain of noodles, juicy grilled pork, and the most flavorful broth I’ve ever tasted. I nearly choked on my first bite, not because of the food, but because I couldn't figure out the chopsticks. And, well, the sheer deliciousness of it all was overwhelming. This is Hanoi. This is real.
Afternoon: Old Quarter Exploration (and Mild Existential Dread): This is where things get real… and overwhelming. The Old Quarter is a sensory overload in the best possible way. Tiny streets, overflowing with vendors hawking everything imaginable. Silk scarves, conical hats, knock-off designer bags (I'm tempted!), plastic flowers, and the incessant honk-honk-honk of the motorbikes. I wandered, slightly shell-shocked. I might have gotten lost. Several times. I'm pretty sure I walked past the same pho place thrice without realizing it. The smells! Incense. Cooking oil. Fresh herbs. It's the kind of place that makes you think, "Wow, is this where I'm supposed to buy my life insurance? Or a silk scarf? Either way, it's a beautiful chaos."
Evening: Dinner and a Stroll (and the Sudden Realization My Legs Are Going to Crumble): More street food! This time, a little place serving banh my (Vietnamese sandwiches). Seriously, the best sandwich I have EVER eaten, crunchy baguette, with pork, liver pate, pickled vegetables, and cilantro. I could eat that every day. After dinner, I attempted a leisurely stroll around Hoan Kiem Lake to see the Ngoc Son Temple, mostly in hopes of getting some perspective. But the crowds, the lights… It was beautiful, but my feet were screaming. I think I'm ready for an early night (and a foot massage if I can find one!). Also, I can't stop thinking about that bun cha. Tomorrow, I'm going back.
Day 2: Culture Shock (and a Strong Coffee Habit)
Morning: The French Quarter (and a Desperate Plea for Coffee): Okay, this is where the planning really went sideways. I meant to get up early and see the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum, but the lure of a hot shower and Netflix proved too strong. Instead, I wandered into the French Quarter, which is undeniably pretty, but also feels a bit… sterile? (Maybe that word again.) I'm sure it's got its charms, but I'm craving the chaos of the Old Quarter. Oh, and I desperately need coffee. Find a cafe. Order a ca phe sua da, the legendary Vietnamese iced coffee. My god, it’s like a shot of pure, caffeinated happiness. This could be the secret to surviving Hanoi.
Morning (late, very late): Temple of Literature - I'm going to confess, I was mostly impressed about the fact that people were allowed to pray and be reverent in such close proximity to Instagram influencers.
Afternoon: A Water Puppet Show (and Letting Go of All Expectations): Okay, I’m sure this sounds a little odd, but the water puppet show was pure, goofy joy. It was completely ridiculous. The puppets were charming (in a bizarre way), the music was loud. I honestly don't know what was going on most of the time. But I laughed. I really did. It's one of those experiences you’ll laugh about for years to come.
Evening: Dinner and the Great Banh Mi Debate: Okay, I'm going back to get Banh Mi from that vendor! I'm going to sit there, eat, and savor the perfect creation that is the banh miiiiiiiiii.
Day 3: Departure (With a Heavy Heart, a Full Stomach, and a Slight Fear of Motorbikes)
- Morning: Wake up. Realize you have to leave. (Sigh). One last ca phe sua da. One last desperate attempt to cram in all the delicious food. One final look around the Old Quarter… and a promise to return.
- *Check out & Head to the Airport: And the final motorbikes.
- Departure: As I sat in the airport waiting for my flight, I couldn't help but reflect on my trip. I may have gotten lost. I may have eaten too much. But I had a blast! This trip wasn't perfect. It was messy, chaotic, and at times, overwhelming. But it was real. And that, my friends, is the best kind of travel.
So, What *Is* "It," Exactly? (Seriously, I'm Lost)
Alright, alright, deep breaths. Let's just say that "It" can be... a lot of things. And honestly? That's part of the fun, or the utter confusion, depending on the day. "It" could be a new hobby, a big move, a relationship, a career shift… or hey, maybe it's just finally figuring out how to make a decent cup of coffee. My personal "It" lately? Learning to play the ukulele. Don't judge. It seemed like a good idea at 3 AM.
The point is, "It" is whatever you’re grappling with, questioning, diving into, maybe even secretly obsessing over. And I find that's where the good (and the messy) stuff happens.
Okay, But...Why Bother? Like, What's the POINT of embarking on any "It"?
Oh, you're asking the important questions now! Honestly? Sometimes I have NO idea. Mostly it’s because, if I don’t… I think I would get a little bit insane. I've always been a person who has to be "doing." A bad habit, really. It's partially curiosity (what's that shiny thing over there?), partially boredom (the devil's workshop, I tell you!), and mostly a desperate attempt to not stagnate into a puddle of existential dread.
The *best* kinds of 'It' are when you're driven by something bigger than yourself. Like, I once adopted a senior dog. It was insane. He snorted, he slobbered, he had the energy of a wet sock. For weeks, all I did was think about him, and his various needs. But it taught me more about love, patience, and the pure joy of a dog nap than anything else ever. That dog, that "It," changed me in ways I still don't fully understand. So yeah, that's the "why bother," I think. To become more than what you were before. Even just a little bit.
What if I Fail? Because, Let's Be Real, Failure is Terrifying.
Oh god, failure. My old nemesis. Listen, if you’re not failing occasionally, you are either a) lucky as hell (teach me your secrets, please!) or b) not actually trying anything worthwhile. And that’s just a fact. I mean, do you know how many batches of sourdough bread I killed before I got one loaf that wasn't a brick? Too many to count. It was humiliating. My kitchen looked like a crime scene. But I kept going.
Here's the trick: redefine "failure." It's not an end, it's a data point. It's feedback. It's a chance to learn, adjust, and try again, or maybe even give up. The ukulele? Still struggling. My fingers hurt. I sound like a dying cat. But I’m still strumming (sometimes). The point is I haven't deleted it from my life. And that's really all that matters.
How Do I Even *Start* This "It" Thing? I'm So Overwhelmed!
Right, overwhelm. That’s a classic. It’s like staring down the barrel of a very, very long and potentially bumpy road. Okay, so here's the super-secret plan: Take one tiny, ridiculously small, almost insignificant step. Seriously. The absolute littlest.
Want to write a novel? Don't think about the whole book. Just write one sentence. A single, solitary sentence. Feeling like you need a career change? Just browse one job listing. That senior dog adoption story? I can tell you that first I just saw him online and thought "Aww". Then I clicked adoption, which led to an application. Then the interview. Next thing you know I had a dog. Baby steps. Tiny wins build momentum. And sometimes, those baby steps lead to the wildest, most unexpected adventures.
Can I Quit If It Gets... Terrible?
Abso-freakin'-lutely. Holy moly, YES. Life is too short to be miserable. If the ukulele is making you want to scream into your pillow, or that new business is sucking the joy out of your soul, QUIT. Seriously, run away. Don't be a martyr.
Sometimes, you get into something and it's just…not right. And that's okay! Let it go. Learn for it. (Maybe leave a scathing review). What you should not do is waste precious time on anything that makes you miserable. Unless you have some sort of "obligation," but even then... sometimes it's okay to walk away. It's your life, and you deserve to be happy (or at least, not constantly screaming).
What If People Judge Me for My "It"?
Oh, the haters are always gonna hate. It's in their job description. If you are doing something awesome, or even remotely interesting, you will always find someone to tell you that you are doing it wrong, or are a fool, or just... stupid.
Here's the deal: Their opinions are about THEM, not you. Seriously. They're probably projecting their own insecurities and regrets. So, if you hear a criticism, take a deep breath. If it’s actual constructive feedback that can help you, then you can take it into account. But if it's just noise? Turn up the volume and just keep doin' you. And if they're REALLY bothering you, maybe get a noise-canceling headphones. That is a very good idea.
Okay, But Seriously... What If "It" Turns Out To Be a Total Flop?
You know what? Sometimes, "It" *is* a total flop. The ukulele? Still sounds like a dying cat. That business idea? Crashed and burned in spectacular fashion. The painting class? Let’s just say, my abstract art is more…abstract than I intended.
And you know what else? It’s okay. Really. Because, even if it's a total dud, you still learned something. About yourself, about the world, about what you DON’T want to do. Every "flop" is a piece of the puzzle. And sometimes, the most valuable lessons come from the most spectacular failures. And hey, at least you'll have a good story to retell. And stories, my friend, are everything.
