Tomb-Hopping in Hue, Vietnam.

I thought the weather in Hue, Vietnam was supposed to be bad. I thought the gray clouds blanketing the former Imperial city on my first day in town were par for the course. So why were we now exploring Hue's network of imperial tombs on a cloudless, sunny day, with accompanying ghastly heat?

Vietnam's Nguyen Emperors were buried in style, but didn't like to be buried close to civilization. Visiting the Emperors' tombs in Hue requires transportation - you can hire a xe om (literally "hug the driver", i.e. you ride behind a motorcycle driver), or your hotel can arrange a ride for you, or you can join one of the tours that regularly make the rounds of the tombs. Either way, you're in for a treat. (If the notoriously bad weather doesn't get you first. Or in my case, sunstroke.)

You think our generation keeps death at arms' length, check out the Nguyens of Vietnam - no expense was spared to create the illusion of continuing life and glory. But appearances can be deceiving. The tombs we visited were a glaring contrast to the Emperors' lives of pathos and regret.

Take for example the Emperor Tu Duc. He had dozens of concubines, his pick of hundreds of fertile young women - but he left no heir. An early bout of smallpox took care of that, leaving him infertile for life. Thus he cloistered himself in a secluded woodland, building a second Imperial residence where he could wall himself away from the world.

Tu Duc would commute between his second residence and the Citadel, spending alternate days at either home. The second residence had a private theater troupe, capacious quarters for his many concubines, a pleasure pavilion overlooking a small lake, and an island in the lake where he and his mandarins could go "hunting" (as he was weak from his smallpox, the animals kept on the island were small - cats and chickens were the hunters' game of choice).

When Tu Duc died, he was buried close to his second residence. The stele that bears his sad story stands some distance away from the place he called home.

Then there's the Emperor Khai Dinh. Our guide tells us he had only twelve concubines - but that was because he was playing for the other team. Khai Dinh, it turns out, was gay.

His brief reign was a disaster for Vietnam; the French extended their influence over the court, and the Emperor had no interest in matters of state. Khai Dinh was widely resented in his lifetime, which is why (our guide guesses) that the Emperor decided his tomb would be grandiose - and difficult to visit.

To reach Khai Dinh's tomb, one has to climb up more than a hundred steps. The first level bears Khai Dinh's honor courtyard, a stele bearing his biography, and the requisite honor guard of stone mandarins.

The second level has a museum bearing Khai Dinh's personal effects, pictures of the Emperor, and two grand statues of the man - one made of gold, sitting on a bejeweled dais in the center of the building; and the other, a proud military-like figure standing on a pedestal. The grand effect of the museum belies the absolute failure of his reign.

Several tombs are open to the public, not just Khai Dinh's and Tu Duc's; the first Emperor Gia Long also has his tomb nearby, as does his descendant Minh Mang. Access to the tombs isn't free; each entry costs D55,000 (about $3); the xe om driver will set you back another $6-$10, depending on your haggling abilities.

Images © Mike Aquino, licensed to About.com.