Leaving the civilised world of Japan left a multi-coloured mark on my soul. I didn’t want to leave and yet I found myself excited to be going to Vietnam - a place I had read about and heard about for such a long time. A country so devastated by war and the horrific, and on-going, effects of Agent Orange. A country whose food excited my lips at the thought. I was off to Vietnam.
I arrived to a world of humidity and noise and clambered into the back of a taxi. I handed over a piece of paper with the address written on it and it was all 'okay’. I pull up outside the skeleton of a day market at about 11pm and wend my way through the remnants, passing a bar/nightclub and into an alleyway - it was at this point in time that my brain decided to remind me of all those mugging stories I’d heard about - but all was good when I arrived at the Hostel and was greeted by the owners and showed to my room.
I awoke the next day to exploration of the town and began to learn how to dodge motorbikes.
The evening was spent revelling in beer and spirits with a group of excitable and drunk Filipinos and a Dutch couple. The night ended with my head hugging the rim of the hostel toilet praying to whatever gods would hear my plea.
The following morning I remembered and regretted that I had booked a cycling tour of the markets followed by a cookery class. Trying to inhale deep breaths and keep myself from toppling over - still drunk and heavily hungover.
I managed to pull out the smiles and sober up enough to get through the cooking - I even managed to eat some food before going back and crawling into bed.
Off to Cambodia in the morning!
Photoset on Flickr: https://www.flickr.com/photos/14859193@N07/sets/72157637924835564/