Red River Club - Hanoi

A short motorbike ride from Long Bien Bridge, along a sticky mud path cutting through dense banana plantations, is the Red River Club. It is easily missed. A side path through thick undergrowth leads towards the river, where some rickety old wooden signage announces the strip of bank utilized by the club. Consisting of a few shacks strung along the river bank, the club has a changing and wash room, an area to sit and drink tea, a barbers’ chair under a large tree with a mirror nailed to the trunk, and an exercise area. But the facilities aren’t what this club is about; as I was to find out, this predominantly male, “au natural” swimming and exercise club, is about friendship, freedom and a little escapism, with a pinch of rebellion and routine. 

With our bike parked up, Van and I walked the few meters to the river’s edge and stood looking out over its swirling eddies. Down the side of the steep bank, set into the mud were roughly made strips of concrete, forming uneven steps down to the river. Two naked men sat on the lowest step, dangling their legs into the cool, mud- red water, chatting about the national football team. Another eight men were swimming in the strong currents, most within 20 meters of the shore, with a few of the stronger swimmers out towards the middle of the channel, a short distance from great barges traveling in the deepest parts of the river. I had been invited to spend the morning with members of the Cau Lac Bo Nhung Nguoi Yeu Song Hong – The Red River Club, one of around ten swimming clubs (but one of only two male “au Natural” clubs) located along the banks of “Banana Island,” below the supporting struts of Long Bien Bridge.

Mr. Van, who introduced me to the club, was 62 years old. He had been coming to swim here for the last 10 years. “Our oldest members are Mr. Diem, who is 92 years old and Mr. Kim who is 86, but we also have many younger members. Boys often follow their fathers to the club.” Said Van.  “For many of the men this is part of their daily routine.” 

As well as slipping into the murky river water to swim, the members also made use of a weight training area, with punch bags and homemade weights; dumb and bar bells made of steel bars with lumps of concrete roughly set on each end, and concrete benches finished off with a surface of tile. There was also an area to sit and drink tea and smoke.

Hidden from Hanoi’s traffic and commerce by farmland and vegetation on one side and the river on the other, the club initially felt strangely out of place in the midst of a modern, rapidly changing city. But sitting on the concrete step with my feet dipping into the water, it didn’t take long for the traffic noise to catch on the wind and drift away and the haze to mute the colors of distant tower blocks and bikes crossing Long Bien Bridge, reversing modernity into an old color film from the 1960’s. And in this quiet, alternative reality, this secluded spot with its traditional bathing seemed exactly the right thing to be doing, right here and now in 2019. 

And of course, as a consequence of being naked in a timeless landscape, and conversing waste deep in flowing water, there was no fashion to delineate date or era and no mobile phones, which added to the feeling that, if we had been transported back 50 years in time, it may have all looked and felt very similar!

I asked Mr. Van to explain to me what was the motivation of coming here each day for a swim.  “There are many reasons why we come and swim here. Firstly, it seems good for our health. It makes the body strong and seems to cure some maladies. My knees were quite bad, but after coming every day and swimming in the river I now have no issues with them. Others that have illnesses come and swim and usually feel better. Also, it is an escape to somewhere more rural – there is fresh air and natural life, and more space, as Hanoi is quite congested. It is like escaping to Hanoi of the past, and that makes you feel younger.”

I asked him further about the members in the club and the best times to swim. “The members are from many different backgrounds, but most live within a short bike ride of the river. We have doctors, lawyers, teachers and retirees. People usually swim sometime between 5.00am and 10.00pm, with many visiting after work to relax. The best swimming is in Spring and Autumn. In the summer the three hydro-electric stations in Hoi Binh Ang Son Province cause high water levels, making the water dirty and quite dangerous to swim in. But at all times it best not to swallow too much water!”

The first clubs appeared on the island around 20 years ago. In the mixed clubs (where costumes are worn by all), the whole family will often come to swim. Mr. Van’s club, consisting of around 200 members, was one of two mainly male clubs, where no costumes were worn. “We are all men, and it is more natural to go into the river wearing nothing,” said Mr.Van.

After finishing taking photos, I sat at the top of the bank under a tree and sipped some tea while waiting for Mr.Van to have his hair cut. An azure flash of a kingfisher darted from the river and disappeared into the plantation. There was no discernible sound, other than the snip snip of the scissors and the lapping of the river against the bank. It was peaceful and very relaxing. A younger man sat next to me and I showed him some of my photos of the bathers. Muscular and sporting an array of tattoos, he said he swam here most days. I asked him whether any women ever came here to swim. He said one or two foreigners sometimes swam, but it was a rarity. “We are always inviting girls,” he said with a smile, “they just never turn up!”

Canon 5Dlll - Canon 24-70 F2.8, Canon 70-200 F4.

The pano photo was taken at a similar club on the same day. This club was situated on the same bank the other side of Long Bien Bridge.