It’s 6:30 am in Hanoi, and right now I’m listening to a nearby rooster crowing with all his heart, like his life depends on it. Hanoi is the only world-class city I’ve visited that has chickens and roosters walking around like they own the place and occasionally pissing on the sidewalk. Okay, there’s Key West but’s that a balmy tropical deal. To me Hanoi is a kind of heaven, teeming with sounds and scents and echoes of the past and maybe premonitions of the future. I know that sounds cliched but if you can’t appreciate the beauty of this, what good are you?