Pour 'Em, Cowboy

Bes

t known for its dignified colonial buildings and staid Communist sensibility, Hanoi has never been a place to go for hopping nightlife. But that was before the Seventeen Saloon rode into town.

Adjacent to the Vietnamese capital's historic train station, Hanoi's hippest new hangout is a replica of an old frontier watering hole in the American West. A five-meter-tall cowboy stands outside, twirling a neon lasso over the saloon. Inside, the split-rail walls are decorated with cowboy memorabilia—from cowboy boots to a mounted cowskin—and since it opened in October, trendy young Vietnamese have been packing through the Seventeen Saloon's swinging doors and whooping it up with whiskey and tequila served by waitresses in cowboy hats and jeans.

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It's more than a little jarring to find the stereotypical décor of the Wild West here (from longhorns mounted over the stage to wagon wheels doubling as glass racks over the bar), in one of the world's last Communist capitals—a place that was at war with the U.S. just a generation ago. Indeed, the neighboring train station was bombed to smithereens by American warplanes in 1972. For years after the war, "decadent" rock and pop music was only played behind closed doors. And as recently as 10 years ago, the few bars to be found were shut down at midnight by ubiquitous police.

Now, though, Hanoi—always more dour than gaudy Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon) in the south—just might be starting to loosen up. "Who cares about the government?" shouts a refrigerator salesman swilling iced gin at the bar and listening to the Filipino country-and-western band. "What matters is what the people like." And the people can't get enough of cowboys. Happy hour at the Seventeen Saloon, from 5 to 8 p.m., is a convivial crush of Vietnamese cutting loose. One tip: if you're planning to pay a visit, make sure to get there early, as the action is likely to wind down just after midnight. This town may have changed, but it ain't changed that much, pardner.