This morning we would be leaving Hoi An for Ho Chi Minh City (formerly known, and still mostly referred to, as Saigon). Following a yummy breakfast of banana pancakes we packed up our stuff ready to set off at 10:30. The airport is about an hour’s ride away – we will be flying from Danang airport, Danang being the city that has stolen Hoi An’s importance as the major port of Vietnam.

Once at the airport our bags are checked in by Rafaele and we take our seats in the departure lounge. To pass the time Darren has given me a gadget magazine to flick through and I find dozens of things that I would love to own but could never afford. I also spend quite a bit of time diary writing as I’ve left myself a bit behind of late, and the hour’s wait soon disappears.

The flight passes without incident and I finish the magazine and do some more writing, and after no more than an hour in the air we touch down at Ho Chi Minh city airport. As we approach the airfield you can already sense that this is a very differet place from anywhere we’ve seen so far. Hanoi, whilst being the capital and very busy, noisey and dirty, still very much has the feel of a different culture about it. Ho Chi Minh City is full of high-rise buildings and digital advertising visible from the air for miles around and somehow feels a little more recognisable.

We board the bus headed for the hotel, around a 45 minute journey, and the city jumps to life in front of you. Cars. For the first time anywhere in Vietnam there are lots and lots of cars. Most of the hotel and banking buildings are huge towering monsters just as in the west, and everything looks a lot more similar to our western idea of how a city should look. Perhaps a slight feeling of London about it even.

The hotel is pretty nice and yet again we’ve been afforded the luxury of one of the best rooms. As it turns out everyone except Summer did actually, so telling people about the dolphin tap on the side of our massive jacuzzi bath lost its edge pretty quickly. With little time to do much at all we await our bags in our room, and no more than 45 minutes after our arrival at the hotel we’re off on a cyclo tour of the city.

I hate riding cyclos. Fact. One poor coughing and spluttering aged man ferrying around one comfortably (ish) seated “rich” western person so that they can see the sights. The whole experience makes me feel really quite uncomfortable. Plus they are slow as shit anyway, though these are at least a bit faster than the chaps in Hanoi. You get some odd stares from people as you are carted about and I am yet to see anyone other than the tourists use them. At least the tuc tucs in Thailand and Laos are also used by locals so you don’t feel like a twat riding one, and they actually save you time getting places.

Anyway, we ride the cyclos around the city and our local guide, a very young, very happy and smiley you man called Dang tells us the history of the Reunification Palace, the Notre Dam cathedral (obviously not the one in Paris), the post office (the ceiling of which was designed by Gustav Eifel who built something in Paris apparently), the opera house, the Caravelle hotel (watering hole for western journalists during the war), the Rex hotel (where during the 60s US officers would host press briefings), the People’s Palace, all in great English and plenty of detail, coupled with a lot of humour. It amazes me how proud the Vietnamese people are of their beautiful French buildings given how they came to be in position.

We also had a look around the War Remnants museum, which our guide book says “contains a graphic pictorial history of the American war”. It certainly does, it’s an incredibly touching place to visit with an enormous amount to see. Our 45 minutes there wasn’t nearly enough time to take it all in. Pictures of American atrocities being commitied, pictures of people suffering the after effects of agent orange (known as containing the most destructive and lethal chemical as yet discovered – a few ml being enough to kill a population of 8 million, and millions of litres of the stuff were strewn across Vietnam). It was tough but necessary to yet further understand the impact of the war on the Vietnamese. All of us went in and all of us were touched by the huge significance of what we had seen in there. Of course you have to have an eye on the fact that this is the Vietnamese story being told, but pictures don’t lie, and American soldiers sitting proud and pleased in front of the severed heads of Vietnamese people, posing for a photograph, is not a story that can be taken in too many ways.

Once the cyclo tour is done with it’s back to the hotel for an hour or two until we meet downstairs to go to dinner. Rafaele gave us a choice between eating at the market or at a place where you grill your own food on a barbecue plate in the centre of the table. The group opted for the barbecue place, with a few of us eyeing the street food idea for tomorrow.

The restaurant looks really good and quite large, and full of Vietnamese people which is an excellent sign. Just as described there are tables everywhere with hot plates in the middle for cooking your own food on. The hot plates themselves are very similar to one I have at home, a cooking plate sitting on a collecting ring with the plate heated by a gas flame. We order a couple of combo dishes and a couple of extra skewers to add to the variety and it is all absolutely delicious, and very very cheap. Dinner for two including drinks being around £8, or 250,000 dong.

After dinner we set off in search of somewhere to grab a drink. As we walk the streets there are hundreds and hundreds of people on motorbikes waving flags, setting off claxons, cheering and shouting and generally looking very pleased and excited. We find out that they won 6-1 against Cambodia in a football match that had taken place that day, part of the SEA (South East Asia) Games for this year, so naturally the folks were rather pleased with themselves. What was great to see was that there was no hint of trouble, agression or violence, and walking amongst these folks (including people riding motorbikes on the pavement) we never once felt even slightly threatened. Everybody was just really very happy.

We decided to go to the Rex hotel for our drink as there was a chance of live music and as we climbed to the 9th floor we found an old chap crooning away, so we were made up. We ordered our drinks (cocktails) which turned out to be expensive, though this was no surprise as this was a 5 star hotel, and expensive here really being only what you would pay at home anyway. Once the old boy had done crooning (typical crooner numbers really) they brought back on a flaminco band who must have been playing earlier, and they were pretty good. They played flamico versions of recognisable tunes, and all in all we had a good time.

Not long before we left we heard the cheering again from over the balcony, and a lot of people went over to take a look. The scene was the same as when we were on the ground, but from up here we had an excellent view of the lights and the people on the bikes. It was incredible to see as the bikes were racing round and round, and then for a few minutes they were still, the bikes not moving but the people still very animated. I got a good 3 or 4 minute video of the action which I’ll try to upload at some point.

Once the action had subsided and the bikers moved on, it wasn’t long before we had finished our drinks and were on our way back to the hotel for a bedtime.

Day 17 didn’t exactly start perfectly for us. Feeling quite grubby we both wanted showers, but alas we couldn’t get any hot water out of anywhere. Neither it seemed could the hotel reception lady who came up, or the maintenance man. After a lot of arsing about he told us 5 minutes and left, so we cleared off for breakfast.

When we returned the water was nice and warm. Turned out what he meant was now the hot water switch in the room was set to “on” we just needed to wait 5 minutes and it’d be alright.

After breakfast Summer, Steven, Mrs Tom and myself set off for an orphanage nearby to pay a visit, armed with fruit we had bought from the market which we had been advised they would like. Sadly for us (but in reality better for them) most of the kids were at school so there were just a couple of boys knocking about, and it didn’t seem that the folks there were expecting us. They were good enough to explain the works of the Blue Dragon setup to us anyway and show us around the place, including marks on the wall (around waist height) where the floods had recently been. We were told everyone was trapped upstairs for 3 days with no food or water, not knowing for how long they would be stranded. This place also takes care of children who are not orphans, but their families cannot afford to educate them, or sometimes, children are plucked from poor situations by the foundation and helped back on the right road. An example in the leaflet is of a girl who was not attending school but instead working to pay for medicine for her sick mother. The foundation sent her to school and paid for her mother’s medicine so that she didn’t have to support her any longer.

Sadly, the orphanage here in Hoi An can only support 30 children, though they would like to expand. Every year they receive an increasing number of applications to send children to the centre, but most have to be rejected. At last count over 200.

Despite it not being a brilliantly planned activity and there being almost no kids around to interact with, it was still a worthwhile visit to learn of the works of the organisation and how they are helping the underprivileged children of their area. Because education in Vietnam is not free not all children can have access to it, but a place like this goes some way to being able iron out the inequality.

After our trip to the orphange I had a final suit fitting, followed by a check on my linen trouser copies I had ordered from Mr Xe and Mrs Tom’s new top. The suit fitting all seemed to go to plan ad after a final adjustment it was ready, as was the other shirt which I’d hastily decided to have made the day before (it really is hard not to just have loads of stuf made in there). Mrs Tom’s dresses and skirt were ready for collection too so she grabbed them, whilst my suit would be delivered along with my shirts after they had opened up the cuff button holes for me. We paid up and moved onto Mr Xe, where sadly my trousers were not ready, but Mrs Tom’s top was ready for a try on. Mr Xe wasn’t happy as too much material was gathered at the back, so we would both have to return later to get our stuff from there.

Next on today’s agenda was a 2 hour walking tour of the city with a local guide. Only Gaynor, myself and Mrs Tom were on this one and we set off with our jolly little local guide at 1pm. We took in the Japanese covered bridge, a Chinese centre, a house where folks can pop in to worship ancestors but is actually someone’s house that they let you come into, a silk making place and a couple of museums. All the while our guide was explaining the architecture of the buildings as there is a mixture of French colonial, Vietnamese and Western styles around town. He also filled us in on the history whenever it was relevent, and despite being dragged into a couple of places where we were offered to buy things, it was a ok way to spend a couple of hours.

After the tour we went with Gaynor to meet Barry where he had been enjoying himself sipping beers for the last two hours, and had a drink and a sit down, a nice thing to do after a couple of hours walking around in the hottest part of the day. Following that we popped back to Mr Xe to pick up our neatly fitting (and cheap) clothes, and then headed back to the hotel for an afternoon nap. At Mr Xe we actually didn’t have enough cash to pay for our stuff and he didn’t seem keen on the card payment, so the girl fromthe shop gave me a lift to the ATM on her motorbike.

As we’d been given a room with a massive bath we thought we’d take advantage and sat soaking for an hour or more before meeting the Darren, Steven and Summer for a not so Asian Italian meal, where Mrs Tom and myself had a not so Asian lasagne and ravioli between us. You can only eat so much rice. Rafaele joined us for pudding as he had been sitting downstairs and noticed 5 drinks go upstairs and worked out we were there. I scoffed a tiramisu for pudding which wasn’t too bad, and Mrs Tom had chocolate cake I believe.

Knackered, and with a bus and a plane journey tomorrow we decided to turn in early.

After an exciting day being measured for new clothes we had little planned for today other than taking it easy. Our first agenda item was a cooking class we had signed up for that didn’t start until 11. Being the lazy folks we are we laid in until around 10 and skipped breakfast, and then got up and walked down to the class. Once there we were met by Barry, Gaynor and Summer who had also signed up for the class. Soon after our tutor arrived, Vina, a tiny Vietnamese lady who told us her nickname was Passionfruit, and that’s what we should call her. She asked us all our names, and informed me that Tom was Vietnamese for shrimp. That was very nearly the last time she called me Tom, opting for Shrimp thereafter.

Our first job was to go to the market so that Vina (it’s shorter to write than passionfruit) could show us how to select vegetables and fish correctly, how to tell if things are still fresh or if they will be sweet or sour etc. Pretty much all of it I didn’t know before so hopefully I’ll be able to call on that next time we’re picking up stuff from tesco. Vina picked up a few items and had Strong Man Shrimp carry her bag for her as we trundled back to the restaurant. I don’t think she used any of the things we bought at the market, so I’m assuming it’s just a method for her to get someone to carry her shopping for her. Her catchprase seemed to be “you geddit?” whenever she explained something to us, to which she later insisted we always reply, “yes Passionfruit!” to indicate our agreement. She was very good fun.

Our lesson had us cooking four courses, all of which we would be eating which sounded like the best part to me. There was sweet and sour chicken soup, fried spring rolls, green papaya salad and fish in banana leaf. We started by creating a marinade for the chicken soup, mixing some stock powder, sugar and sesame oil and coating the chicken, an setting it aside for later. That was the soup dealt with for the time being so we moved onto the fried spring rolls. Our first job was to chop up the veggies, onion, carrot and turnip (actually we grated the turnip and carrot), mash the peas, and then squeeze the juice out if them. This is done by putting the veggies into a cloth and squeezing the heck out of it until no more juice comes out. We then add this mixture to stock powder, pepper and the pork and mix it all up, before dolloping it into some soft rice paper to roll the spring rolls. Again, we set these aside to be fried later.

We finished of the soup so we could get stuck into our first course. This involved cooking the marinaded chicken, piling in the pineapple, onion, lemon juice, fish sauce, chilli paste, pepper and boiling water and bringing the whole lot to the boil, adding tomato and okra later. It was very tasty, and at the table we could add more lemon juice, chilli paste or fish sauce to change to our tastes accordingly.

The only thing left to do with the spring rolls was deep fry them, so they were plunged into medium hot oil and fried for 3 minutes on each side. The secret of a non-oily spring roll – stand on its end to drain, not lie flat.

The green papaya salad was easy enough. Once you’ve stripped your papaya, grated the carrot, mixed them together and squeezed out the juice, it’s just a case of frying them together for 30 seconds with a few other bits and coating with a dressing sauce we’d just made. It was a similar story with the fish in banana leaf, having marinaded the fish in a quick to prepare sauce, it’s simply placed inside a banana leaf (or tin foil if you have to – it’s only for presentation) add the marinade sauce, wrap it up and BBQ it for 5 minutes on each side.

All of us thoroughly enjoyed Passionfruit’s class and had a great time making our 4 course lunch, and learned quite a bit in the process. At the end we could buy some bits and bobs as momentos, so we got some cooking chopsticks, and apron and a couple of the magic cloths for squeezing juice out of stuff. When we get home we’ll no doubt have a crack at recreating our class menu too.

After the class we had to attend fittings for our clothes we were having made, so we headed off to do that. Mrs Tom’s skirt and one of her dresses fitted perfectly, the other dress just needing a slight adjustmet to make it ready. My trousers were fine but the legs were unfinished (and over-length by maybe close to half a metre) and the jacket currently had no sleeves on. Apparently they do it that way because I’m difficult to make for being so tall. Gets in the way of a lot of stuff does my stoopid size. It all seemed to be going well, but I couldn’t really tell as the three people stood around me rattling on at each other were all speaking Vietnamese. After a short while we left and took a bit of a wander around the city.

In contrast to Laos where things ran much more slowly, Vietnam, even in a slower place like Hoi An, just seems to run at a higher pace. The people selling stuff are also quite forward and it’s impossible to walk anywhere without beig offered a motorbike tour, cyclo, bicycle or taxi, or being asked if you want any fruit, drinks, snacks, clothes, jewellery, bags or a million other things. It’s still a nice place though, and now being a world heritage site is at least subject to preservation, so that look should continue unspoiled.

With a bit of time to kill before our afternoon fitting we head back to the hotel for a nap. The fitting also goes well and Mrs Tom’s stuff is all done now, apart from one last slight adjustment to what has turned out to be a great looking dress. My shirts are spot on and my jacket now has sleeves, but I want a few tweaks made. The flap on the ticket pocket is a little bigger than I’d like and the trouser legs are a little long (for the first time ever in my life) so we mark things up and leave them to it.

We had been told that you can take items into the tailor shops and ask them to copy them. I have a pair of linen trousers that have seen better days (though that doesn’t stop me wearing them now) so I took them into Yaly to see how much that would be. After being told $45 I thought better of it, and so decided to try Mr Xe, just down the road, and recommended by our guide book. Mr Xe said he would do them for $17. I was so chuffed I asked for two pairs, and so impressed were we with Mr Xe’s tariff that Mrs Tom got a new top made for the princely sum of $14. Well pleased.

Having eaten substantially at lunch those of us that attended the class had agreed that we wouldn’t want a huge dinner, and Darren and Steven said they would stock up at lunchtime so they could join us in a small tea. We had arranged to meet Summer, Steven and Darren in the wine bar where we would have a few classes and a plate of cheese instead of a proper dinner. What we hadn’t known having been out all day was that Raf had left a note for us in reception at the hotel about meeting for dinner in the wine bar at 7:30, so at 7:30 Barry, Gaynor and Rafa turned up too. Rafa had organised a place for us to eat dinner, but none of us had been initially keen. Secretly I was pleased as the cheese plate was a bit on the meager side, and though I didn’t want a huge meal I would be glad of the opportunity for grub.

The restaurant was small and quiet and had a special menu of street food type dishes, so rather than having anything huge I had some cau lau (a pork, noodles and veggies dish) and some fried won tons, and bloody delicious they were too. Mrs Tom had a white rose (a sort of seafood dumpling affair) and some kind of pancake.

After what was a relatively quick tea we went for after dinner drinks at another of Rafaele’s recommendations, Tam Tam bar. This was a bit more our style as it was not as loud but still played ok music, and we could chill out and chat and even play some pool on the massive pool table (I think at least 8 feet). We met a stereotypically lesbian Australian called Amy who was rather interesting, and managed to get the usually restrained Darren to have a mock wheelchair race from one side of the bar to the other (the chairs rolled forwards slightly making this motion almost natural). The staff were not too happy about that one. I had a few games of pool, losing on my own but winning in a doubles game with Summer. I then played alongside a chap who refuses to play with both hands because it’s not fair on the opponents, so he plays with one hand behind his back. He was called An, and he was genuinely bloody good. I tried to encourage him to use both hands so I could see what all the fuss was about but he didn’t want to.

On the previous night in the Before and After bar we were hassled by some chap trying to get us to go to a beach party a few km away. On consulation with Rafa we had decided it sounded ok (he had been before), so tonight we thought we’d give it a go. After a little bit of arsing about it turned out we’d missed the last bus. Ho hum.

To compensate for the lack of beach partying we decided to use our massive balcony to full effect and have everyone to our room for a drink or two, having aquired some whisky and lau lau for the earlier train journey that we hadn’t finished. I had a good old chat with Rafa and everyone else seemed chatty, but at around 2am we knocked it on the head as folks were beginning to tire.

Another satisfactory day completed.

This morning we take the three hour bus journey from Hue to Hoi An. The bus seems a little better this time so we have a lot less of the erratic bouncing about in the seats, which pleased me a lot. Around half way there we stop for a drink and a toilet break at a gorgeous beach-side place where we sip an iced tea and take in the views. It’s very windy there but a lovely clear, sunny day so we can benefit a little from the breeze.

Once back on the road we stop to take in the views at Hoi Van pass, a place high up the mountain with stunning views of the places below, and famed for being the only crossing point between north and south Vietnam during the division of the country. There are military forts there and you can see the bullet marks in the sides of a couple of them very clearly, as well as the different styles of builiding thrown up by the French, Americans and Vietnamese.

Still not arrived at our destination we stop for lunch beside the beautiful China Beach. As it’s not an included meal we choose our own things to eat, those things being crab, calamari and a special rice dish, a right good nosh up. Having polished that off, against all the advice you get at home, we plunge straight into the warm ocean where the waves are pretty big and the power of the water is incredible. You could feel yourself being thrown at the beach by the tide, and then suddenly, after about 20 minutes of arsing about and having a jolly good time, the tide turned and we could feel ourselves being pulled out into the ocean. At that point we tipped out and dried off ready for the final leg of the journey to Hoi An.

We arrive at our rather nice looking hotel (this backpacking lark is a piece of cake) and check in to our room. To our delight, Rafa has asked that we have a nice room and we open the door to a place with a sitting area with a table and four chairs, a huge bed, a bathroom with an enormous bath and a huge balcony overlooking a lake. Good work Raf.

Once we’ve had a good look around it’s straight downstairs to meet with everyone else to have a brief orientation walk around the city. As Rafaele shows us around I got a feeling that this was a little like Luang Prabang in Laos, only a bit busier and dirtier, though still very nice. After pointing out a few landmarks and leaving us with maps so that we could find our way home, Rafa left us to our own devices with a view to meeting up later for dinner.

Everyone had their mind on pretty much the same thing, as there is one thing in particular that Hoi An is famous for. For a place that’s not to dissimilar in size to Canterbury, there are over 300 tailors. We were all going to get some made to measure clothes made, most of us choosing the most famous and reputable shop Yaly. Though all of the tailors can turn things around in 24 hours, I didn’t want anything rushed, and most others seemed to feel the same so we all bowled in.

What strikes you as soon as you walk into Yaly is that the place is mental. There are what feels like dozens of staff running about all over the place, and many many more customers all looking at fabrics, browsing catalogues, trying on stuff etc. After a short time sifting through catalogues I find a suit that catches my eye and set off to find the right material, which given my male status wasn’t easy. The suit I had found was blue, that’s about as good as I can manage description wise. I picked out what I thought what was the right material in their best quality cashmere wool fabric, having sought dozens of opinions from Mrs Tom, then we set about discussing the details. Basically I wanted it exactly like the picture, but with a ticket pocket. I toyed with slanting pockets, but the staff in the shop seemed keen to talk me away from it. The bloke in the picture didn’t have slant pockets so I decided if it was cool enough for him them I could probably manage. The ticket pocket was a cert though. Oh, and once I’d been offered it I had to go for silk lining. The price for all this custom made beauty, $215, at today’s rates around £132. It was diffiult not to get a shed load made.

Having picked a suit I thought I’d move on to a shirt. We are on holiday, what the heck. Initially I was put off by the $35 price until I rembered that this shirt would be made to fit me and me only. I thought I’d go for a nice new work style shirt with double cuffs, and also a casual number, which turned out to be only $20. Mrs Tom was fathoming out whether to have a dress or a skirt, and if a dress which one. I settled the debate by telling her to get the lot, given the prices and the occasion of our holiday we might as well go for it.

All measured up and excited we popped over to the rather nice looking wine bar across the street where we had planned to meet everyone before dinner. We swapped stories of our experences and were soon off to Cargo, where Rafa had booked us a table for dinner. The food was good and it was fun to continue talking about our different shopping experiences.

To round off a fun day we went to the Before and After bar which Rafaele had recommended. For my deaf and cold ridden self it was a touch too loud for me and kept us from having a decent conversation. It was quite a decent looking bar though and the first pub type place we’d seen for a while. We stayed for a couple and then slowly wound or way back to the hotel via what turned out to be the extended route.

I’ve been a bit lazy on the diary writing over the last few days, but I’ve got a flight and a bus ride today to catch up so you will be able to follow our exploits in Hoi An. Fortunately we’ve done almost nothing so it shouldn’t take too long.

tom x