trekking on the rice terraces

Yesterday I went on a seventeen kilometre trek up and down the Sapa rice terraces with a guide and two Swiss travellers. It took all day and was quite hard work, as we left the normal tourist trail and hiked up and down a more 'advanced' track, but it was well worth it even if my ankles hurt a bit today.

During the trek we visited two hill-tribe villages: homes to the Hmong and Xay tribes. You know, they don't consider themselves to be Vietnamese, they can't speak Vietnamese, they have their own semi-autonomous arrangements, and they live in villages which have not obviously advanced technologicially in the last five hundred years. I'm glad I went; I nearly didn't in favour of lounging around.

Also, two days ago, while I was wandering the town, a woman dragged me (physically) to her market stall and was trying hard to get me to buy one of her swiss army knives. I thanked her, but said I didn't need one, and that I wouldn't know what to do with it if it bought it. She replied, 'no, no, very good, very good. You can use like this,' and jokingly held the knive against my throat adding with mock menace, 'give me your money now or I kill. I kill man.' I laughed and asked if her knives would be good for killing people with, and picked one up myself and started mimicking someone stabbing someone in the stomach. 'Yes! Yes! Very good for kill,' she said, 'you kill people good this knife, you buy, you buy.' I explained as best I could that homicide was not on my itinerary in Vietnam, but this didn't stop her shouting, 'no, come back man, you kill good, you buy, you buy,' as I walked away giggling. Street hawkers and sellers can be wearing but they can also be a lot of fun, and some have the most fantastic sense of humour.

I've been reading The Odessa File by Frederick Forsyth. It's as good as The Day of the Jackal although I do wish Freddie would do us all a favour and omit his dreadful sex scenes.

It's a beautiful day (I've been very lucky with the weather in Sapa), and time for me to start making my way back to Hanoi. I'm about to catch a minibus down to Lao Cai (where the train station is) and at 9pm I'll board the night train back to Hanoi. Arrival in Hanoi: 5am. Checking out is going to be something of a challenge. No-one in my hotel can speak English and they're pretty unwilling to have a go at attempting to communicate with me. I hope they'll get the message when I walk downstairs with all my belongs, and slap my key down on the desk.

My damaged shorts have been salvaged. Just. They don't look as they once did but I'm certainly willing to continue wearing them. I'll see to it they get a proper wash at the Old Darling Guesthouse, and then maybe they can go back into active service.

sapa

I've just finished watching the Vietnamese version of 'Who Wants To Be A Millionnaire.' Given that a million dong (the national currency) is only worth thirty two pounds I'm not surprised the contestants looked unenthusiastic.

I'm in Sapa, and I'm staying at the Hotel San Phong Huong (Room 302). The hotel is perched precariously on a steep hillside which looks across at Fansipan Mountain (the largest and highest in country) and the clouds which float around its peak. I've got a third floor view out over the scenary. It's peaceful and wonderful. Sapa is sublime. A French hill station built in 1922, it is the most popular destination in North-West Vietnam. The surrounding hills are enormous, and very mysterious - because mist and cloud keeps rising and falling over them. Sometimes you can see everything, and a few hours later you can see nothing, just mist.

I enjoyed catching the night train up here; the journey was a breeze. I had a bed in a small wooden cabin which I shared with three Spaniards called Isobel, Ebse, and Dego. The train left promptly at 10pm, and I soon fell asleep under the duvet in my comfortable bunk bed (snoring loudly no doubt). I slept through until 6am, and we arrived at Lao Cai station at about 6.20am, so I can't really tell you an awful lot about what the journey was like. From there I caught a minibus up to Sapa. This took further hour and a half, but it felt like no time at all.

The village itself is small and easy to navigate. There are only two or three streets which wind their way up and down the sections of hillside on which they are located. People from the local hill-tribes are wandering the streets, with babies stapped to their backs, trying to sell blankets and other local items. The predominant colour of their clothing is black. They look - physically - very different to the rest of the Vietnamese population in my opinion. Perhaps this is due to the proximity of China/Mongolia? There is one woman in particular walking around with a toddler who I keep noticing. The little girl is wearing a traditional hill-tribe costume, with one exception: a pairing of pink plastic shoes which have squeakers in the soles. This means that every step she takes makes a little squeak, and consequently you can hear her almost where ever she is in the village. Cuteness factor ten.

Also, wandering around I found a bar which I think my friends Raj, Liz, and Ella would love. It is called the Pink Floyd Bar, and has a spectacular view out over the hills. When I was walking past I heard the words: 'we don't need no education' booming out of the large open windows, down into the valley below. Pink Floyd must be on repeat here all day long, day in, day out. Raj and Liz both came to Vietnam a couple of years ago so perhaps they came here?

I spent yesterday relaxing, and intend to do much the same today. Tomorrow - weather permitting - I should be able to go out and see some of the hill-tribes in their small hamlets and villages. This should be interesting although I am a bit worried that my tour out will be a bit too 'touristy' and lacking in authenticity, but we will see.

i'm only human

I made a right bloody fool of myself yesterday. Let me explain. I went to a restaurant near Hoan Kiem Lake in Hanoi for a spot of lunch, and ordered some chicken with rice, and some Vietnamese tea to drink. When it arrived my meal looked fantastic and was beautifully presented; the rice had even been cleverly sculpted into the shape of an Egyptian pyramid. It was almost worth a photograph.

My table was very small and cluttered with flowers, cutlery holders, and other bits and pieces, the result being that the plate containing my lovely meal could not quite fit on the table. I noticed this but thought I could manage. After my third mouthful I pressed down on a piece of chicken with my spoon (to take it off the bone), and flipped the plate up and over and down and into my lap. I paused; and then looked down. I had a meal for one, resting, stationary, on my groin. This was rather embarrassing.

As I felt the warmth of the chicken above my knees, a perplexed waitress rushed over to try to help, and clearly wanted to do something to aid me, but once on the verge of actual intervention she became unsure of whether or not it was appropriate to start grabbing at my more intimate areas. In the end she resolved her dilemma by just standing there and dissolving into a fit of giggles. In doing so she was joining the rest of the restaurant, who had all - without exception - found my mishap utterly hilarious. It was at this point I wondered what the Vietnamese for 'piss off' was.

Keeping my knees together I picked up the plate and put it back on the table and slowly began scooping the rice up in my hand, slapping it back onto the plate. Once it was all back where it had begun, I tried to assess the damage. There were no two ways about it: things didn't look good. They looked terrible in fact. The oil had left a severe, conspicuous, and dubious, stain across the front of my shorts. And the stain looked like it wasn't coming out in a hurry. My beautiful meal looked exactly what it was - a squelched mess, the rice pyramid now a sodden mass. And my reputation lay in tatters: the honour of being the laughing stock of Hanoi was mine.

I had a sufficient lack of shame to stay and eat what remained of my meal, but left as quickly as possible after, with my head held low. I'm unlikely to eat there again too often in the near future.

Today my shorts hang in my hotel bathroom, having been scrubbed hard with travel wash using one of the complementary toothbrushes that came with the room. It'll be a few hours before I know if they can be salvaged but...me thinks not.

halong bay

I'm back from my trip to Halong Bay. It was fantastic - the highlight of my time in Vietnam. Legend has it that the rocks, islands, and waterways were created by a dragon landing and driving the ground up and out of the water and into amazing shapes. Geologists among us might express some scepticism over this, but it is a nice story and image all the same. I can't describe the overwhelming beauty, so I suggest you have a look at the photographs I took and see for yourself.

I spent three days on an organised boat trip with about fourteen or so others. Everyone in the group got on well and had a good time, and we had a wonderful tour guide called Hang (aka Tom Hangs) who took the trip from being very good and put it up a scale to absolutely excellent. I went swimming in the South China Sea, kayaking into caves, and slept on a comfortable and pleasant cruiser boat at night. We also had a song night, and I even managed to join on that despite my flat out of tune voice. Very uncharacteristic considering my reserved nature.

Since I've been back, I've also been to visit the Perfume Pagoda just outside Hanoi. Located on top of a 4km high hilltop, the Pagoda sits inside a large and damp cave, and is an important site of Pilgrimage for many Vietnamese. As it turned out, I was more impressed with my brisk trek up the track to the top than with the actual attraction at the top. The sacred area really functioned as a quick rest area where I could get my breath back, before tackling my descent back down. Had an average lunch at the bottom and then headed back for Hanoi.

I'm going to Sapa by night train this evening. The journey will take twelve hours and the train is a sleeper. I'm staying in Sapa for a few nights, and will return to Hanoi after to prepare for my move into Laos (I enter Laos on 1 October). The road to Laos is one hell of a journey: twenty four hours by bus, and that's if all goes well and there are no delays, which is unlikely. It's going to be hard work, but it's something I want to say I've done so I'm looking forward to it as a challenge to overcome.

Sapa promises me several days of relaxation alone, and should afford plenty of opportunity to reflect on my time in Vietnam, and also to blog more - so expect much more regular updates as of tomorrow.

my feet hurt

Greetings blog reader. A few days have past since my arrival in Hanoi, and I've been making it my business to have a good look around.

I've visited a lot of the main sights now: Hoan Kiem Lake, Ngoc Son Temple, Thap Rua (the Tortoise Tower), Memorial House, Bach Ma Temple, St Joseph's Cathedral, Lenin Park, Ho Chi Minh Museum, the Temple of Literature, the Women's Museum, Hoa Lo Prison Museum, and the History Museum. I've been to see all of these on foot, and feel like I've been over every inch of the city. My legs really ache now, but it is the ache of achievement.

I've also been to the Vietnamese Water Puppet Theatre to see their show, and thought it was marvellous. This art originated in Northern Vietnam and the wooden puppets are very pretty. It was amazing how the puppet masters brought them to life with great skill and precision movement. The show wasn't a play as such: it consisted of a series of re-enactments (about twenty) of different scenes in traditional Vietnamese life. It was easy to follow and entrancing to watch.

Turning to international news, I understand there has been a military coup in Thailand. This may cause me some minor difficulties as I am planning to return there in a month or so as a means of getting into Myanmar, and then on to Malaysia. I hope things settle down so I can carry on as planned, but I'll just have to re-assess things at the end of October. My plans can be altered if necessary. Naturally for the moment I'm perfectly safe in Vietnam which does not even border with Thailand.

So what next in Vietnam? I met up again with my Australian friends this morning, and we're all leaving Hanoi tomorrow morning to go on a three day cruise to Halong Bay. I'm really looking forward to this. Halong Bay is reputed to be one of Vietnam's greatest natural wonders, and - as long as the weather is good - should be amazing. I won't be able to blog again until I return on Sunday or Monday, I'll be 'at sea,' but will give you a full update when I return.

hanoi

I've arrived in Hanoi, and have checked into a small hotel called the Old Darling Guesthouse (Room 302) in the old quarter of the city. Early indications suggest that Hanoi is a beautiful and charismatic place, which will require considerable exploration over the next few days. The old quarter especially is crammed full of old ochre coloured buildings with inset green shuttered windows. The paint is peeling and the roof tiles are loose. It all looks beautifully dilapidated.

The journey up did turn out to be tough, because the driver continually switched off the air-conditioning, and also because the bastard in front of me refused to keep his seat in a fairly upright position resulting in the crushing of my legs. I was angry that he ignored my polite requests for him to not have it reclined back so far, so I childishly got him back at about 4am (when I could take no more) by gripping his seat with my arms, and pretending to sleep pressed forward against it, making it almost impossible for him to rest his head on his head rest. He kept nudging his head against my arms to make me let go, but I had no intentions of behaving like a mature adult by this stage. I held on for about fifteen minutes before letting go, and gave up in the end because it was just as uncomfortable for me as it was for him.

I was also grouchy last night because the reserve coach driver told me off in Vietnamese for leaving my bag in the aisle of the coach, because - I assumed - it was causing an obstruction. It was hard for me to explain to him that I had been told to put it there by his colleague, and he caused a bit of a scene about it. After the bag had been moved elsewhere he then went and got a fold out mattress from the back of the coach, laid it where my bag had been, and went straight to sleep.

Anyway, I've just had my haircut, and I'm here now. This is the second trim of the trip (my first haircut was in Pattaya), and I've checked all my clothes in to be 'washed.' I've also found this excellent internet cafe from which I type, and a burger and french fries in the cafe across the road have my name on them. After I've swallowed the burger whole, what I need is a bit of sleep, and perhaps a little something from the bakery over the road from my hotel for desert.

ps I've updated and altered my previous two blog entries (see below). They were a bit lacking in information. All is back up to date now.

80 days

I've been on the road for exactly eighty days, and I've equalled Phileas Fogg and Michael Palin in regard to their famous travels, although I've only been a tiny fraction of the distance. I've often wondered what it would feel like to be away for so long. Well now I know. In some ways it feels like an age since I was at home, but in others I just can't believe it - a quarter of a year away from home already. Some of the stuff I did in Thailand seems yonks ago now, but being dropped off at Heathrow in June remains fresh in my memory.

Today has been spent exploring Hue by rented bright yellow bicycle. I've spent most of the day in the compound of the Forbidden Purple City, the residence of the Vietnamese monarchy from the early 1800s until the 1940s. A fascinating building even though much of it has been destroyed, and there is no longer a monarch to live in it. I tried to visit the main museum in Hue as well, but it turned out to be closed, so instead cycled around the town for a while and then headed back to my hotel. Unfortunately my bike fell apart on the way back (the peddles broke). Luckily a man with a hammer in a nearby restaurant was able to fix it enough for me to be able to cycle back, and leave pondering my insurance position for another day.

Before I did my sight seeing, I met a Vietnamese rice farmer, after he engaged me in conversation whilst we were both riding down a very busy Hue highway. He said he would like to show me around in exchange for the chance to practice his English, and no money would exchange hands. I was sceptical and thought it sounded like a scam, but cautiously agreed. We rode a circuit of the main city area, chatted about this and that, and then he dropped me off outside the entrance to the Forbidden Purple City. After we had pulled up he just thanked me and said have a nice day and then rode off. It really was no scam. He was just a nice man. So it does pay sometimes not to be too jaded about things and go with the flow. The most interesting thing he said, as I cycled and listened to him, trying not to get myself killed, was that his brother had died in their rice field last year after being bitten by a huge snake. Very scary to me, but it happens out here in the countryside, and is just a part of life.

I'm heading off at 6pm, Vietnamese time, to Hanoi, which will be my home for roughly the next week. The overnight bus takes a while so I won't arrive until 7.30am the next morning. Should be good and a little painful.

dalat, nha trang, hoi an, and hue

I've been having computer access problems over the last week, and so haven't been able to update the blog until now.

I'm no longer in Ho Chi Minh City, and since I last blogged I've been through Dalat, Nha Trang (briefly), Hoi An, and now I'm in Hue. I've been travelling with an Australian couple - Andrew and Peta (female). I met them on the Mekong Delta, and have really enjoyed their company.

In Dalat we hired three 'easy riders' to take us up into the Dalat mountains. I don't know how to describe the three of them other than as being middle-aged Vietnamese versions of the Fonz (as in Arthur Fonzarelli: the 'Happy Days' biker and sultan of cool). All three of them wore black shades, and one did actually have a Fonzie leather jacket on. Eeeeeeeee. They were great fun. After Dalat we went on to Hoi An via Nha Trang, and did some shopping (or rather I watched some shopping being done), and then last night we went out for a few beers. It's been a while since I've had too much to drink, and it turned into a really good evening. We met a few others and there was quite a group of us at one point. I had a laugh. It ceased to be so much fun when I had to get up at 6.30am to catch my bus to Hue having had only about three hours sleep. We've gone our separate ways this morning due to itinerary differences, and have exchanged email addresses and all the rest of it.

Just to put it 'on file' so to speak: in Ho Chi Minh City I stayed at the Mi Mi Hotel, in Dalat I stayed at the Pacific Hotel, in Hoi An I stayed at the Hoa Binh Hotel, and now in Hue I am staying at the Binh Duong Hotel. The Mi Mi Hotel has been my favourite of the bunch, although the Hoa Binh Hotel was very good too, and they let me stay in one of their more luxurious double rooms at their basic single room rate because it just happened to be empty and they thought they'd be nice. The Binh Duong was a bit of a hole, although I can't fault the staff on their friendliness and helpfulness.

I've received two pieces of very good news from the UK in the last two days. First is that my friend Raj has confirmed a flight out to see me on 14 December, and will be staying with me until 2 January. We're meeting in Kuala Lumpar, and this means I won't be on my own over the Christmas or New Year. I'm already looking forward to it. The second piece of news came from the Inland Revenue. They are giving me tax rebate of a thousand pounds. A thousand pounds out of nowhere! Cash back! I'll have to think about it how to use it in relation to this trip.

the mekong delta and vietnamese fine art

The weather was wonderful for my trip by boat down the Mekong Delta. The sun blazed, there were only a few clouds in the sky, and there wasn't a drop of rain in sight. I was on an organised boat cruise. Our tour started off in Mytho and cruised along and through the Dragon, Unicorn, Phoenix, and Turtle Islands. We had lunch on Phoenix Island, and some locals were paraded in front of us and made to demonstrate how coconut candy is made. The candy tasted delicious, but I didn't buy any. After lunch we carried on to Ben Tre, where we enjoyed a tropical fruit tasting session, and some Vietnamese folk music. We then meandered back to where we had started.

Just before the tour ended the tour guide announced, 'and now, finally,' as if we had been waiting for it, 'you can meet some local people, and learn about their local life.' He then led us to some 'in of the ordinary' stalls containing the same old souvenirs, trinkets, bracelets, and general tat, I've seen on every tourist souvenir stall I've encountered since I've been out here. I was the first to go over the top and into the fray: a complex network of decorative plates and 'I heart Vietnam' t-shirts. An old woman lunged straight at me, and, pointing at the wooden Buddha statues on her stall, shreiked: 'this local life, you buy, you buy!!!' I pushed forward, and got the hell out of there as quickly as I could. I was lucky to get out alive, and without a coconut keyring.

Today, my last in Ho Chi Minh City, I went to the Fine Arts Museum. The art of Vietnam, it seems to me, is of a very high quality in comparison to the art of its neighbours, and the museum is ready proof of this. Most of the paintings on display deal with war, family life, workers at work, landscapes, agricultural scenes, and there are also some individual portraits. Lacquer on wood is a popular medium, and the rich, deep shine of this is really, really pretty. Some of the war paintings are a bit too propagandist, but there is plenty else to off-set this, and it's all housed in an atmospheric old yellow French colonial building.

I've booked an open bus ticket north this morning, and in doing so have sealed my fate for the next three or so weeks. Tomorrow I ride up into the hills and to Dalat. Then I move on to Hoi An, then to Hue, then to Hanoi. It's up to me when I want to move to and from each of these, but these will be my locations, and this will be their order. I've paid in advance, so there's no going back. The eight pounds will be down the drain if I deviate. From Hanoi I also plan to venture east and west to Halong Bay (like Angkor Wat - a UNESCO World Heritage Site), and up into the mountains around Sapa. Can't wait to do that last one.

And finally, I was having my dinner last night (ginger chicken and rice if you're nosy) when a woman walked passed pulling an electronic weighing machine on a cart. I got her to stop and turn it on. The result: I weigh twelve stone and eight pounds. This is about a pound or so heavier than when I left the UK. So any concerns about me further wasting away can be put on the shelf for the time being. I celebrated with a peanut cookie the size of my head, and an apricot jam tart, all washed down with a 2006 Coca Cola.

they call me: uber-tourist

Honestly. My feet haven't touched the ground during the last two days. It's been tourist site this, tourist site that, and there's no sign of any let up. Here's a quick run down of what I've seen, and prolifically photographed...

Yesterday morning I went to the most important Caodai Temple in Tay Ninh Province, and stayed to watch their noon mass service. Caodai was formed in the south of Vietnam during the 1920s, and is - as far as I can make out - a curious fusion of Chinese religious philosophy, Buddhism, and Catholicism. I'm on shaky ground in describing its main tenets, but I can tell you what their most important temple building is like: a riot of vibrant colours - predominantly pink, white, and yellow; friendly and inviting; and relaxed and placid. Everything I would want from a religious building were I religious. I got a really good vibe wandering between the pillars, and looking at the flowers and stars painted, and stuck, on the walls and ceiling. I would have liked to have stayed a bit longer than I did.

Same day, in the afternoon, I went on to the Cu Chi Tunnels and learnt more about the Vietnam War. The Cu Chi Tunnels are a vast network of tunnels which were secretly dug out - by hand - by the National Liberation Front. They were begun during conflict with the French, and continued, and developed further, during conflict with America. Astonishingly, the tunnels go three levels deep, have secret entrances, guard rooms, traps for attackers, headquarters, a medical area, kitchens, and escape tunnels. In total they stretch for a massive two hundred and fifty kilometres, and all hand dug with simple farm tools. Unbelievable. During the afternoon, I crawled through, on my knees, what felt like a mile of the tunnel network myself. I guess I crawled through about thirty metres truth be told. But this was still extremely brave of me as there were large spiders down there.

Today has been very busy too. I've been on a proper tourist tour of Ho Chi Minh City. This included a visit to the War Remnants Museum, which made me realise that American troops have easily equalled the Khmer Rouge in terms of needless inhuman brutality in their time. Also visited the Reunification Palace (which I really liked), the French built Notre Dame Cathedral, the Central Post Office, and the Chinese influenced Jade Pagoda. After lunch I visited the Cholon Market (the biggest market in Vietnam), Chinatown, and also the Thien Hau Temple. A good day, jam-packed with sites of interest.

There's just time to catch my breath this evening, and then tomorrow I'm heading off by boat down the Mekong Delta. I've been assured an full day of interesting activities and sights. Will report back.

greeneland

Yesterday I went on the, 'Graham Greene Literary Saigon Tour.' I met my tour guide, Mr Bury, at my hotel after lunch, as it had been raining heavily in the morning, and we proceeded north on foot to the Dong Khoi area.

After a fifteen minute walk we reached our destination. My shirt was straightaway a rag. Back in the 1950s, Dong Khoi was called the Rue Catinat, and was the hangout of Greene's main character and narrator in The Quiet American, journalist Thomas Fowler. Reaching the corner of the street, Mr Bury pointed out the Majestic on the corner, and told me that this was where Greene had stayed for most of his time in Vietnam. It was very posh indeed. Greene had obviously had a very good royalties deal.

Then we took a look across the street at the river, where - in the book - Alden Pyle's body is dumped following his murder. It was at this point I could hardly remember my name, or what I came to escape from. From here, we went down the boulevard of Dong Khoi, and about midway came to another large hotel: The Grand. Fifty years ago, and prior to renovation, Bury said, this had been a shabby apartment block, and Greene had used it as the model for Thomas Fowler's apartment. I took a photo. It was bigger than I had imagined. Then a woman's voice drugged me, and I fell in love with Vietnam. Everything was so intense.

The tour conclusion, and finale, came with a visit to the famous Continental, referred to throughout the book, and a well-known haunt of international journalists throughout the Vietnam conflict. I took Mr Bury inside and bought him a large scotch (bugger didn't say thank you). We both reclined in our rattan chairs, and watched the afternoon traffic ride silently by, and thought of Greene; his visits here so many years ago, and the terrific book that was born out of them.

good morning vietnam

'I can't say what made me fall in love with Vietnam - that a woman's voice can drug you; that everything is so intense. The colors, the taste, even the rain. Nothing like the filthy rain in London. They say whatever you're looking for, you will find here. They say you come to Vietnam and you understand a lot in a few minutes, but the rest has got to be lived. The smell: that's the first thing that hits you, promising everything in exchange for your soul. And the heat. Your shirt is straightaway a rag. You can hardly remember your name, or what you came to escape from. But at night, there's a breeze. The river is beautiful. You could be forgiven for thinking there was no war; that the gunshots were fireworks; that only pleasure matters. A pipe of opium, or the touch of a girl who might tell you she loves you. And then, something happens, as you knew it would. And nothing can ever be the same again.'

So said Graham Greene when he first came to Vietnam fifty years ago, and fell in love with the steamy narrow back streets and mystery of old Saigon. A lot has happened in those intervening years, and the Vietnam in which I find myself this morning is a very different place - a thriving socialist republic if my first impressions are anywhere near correct.

I arrived in Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon) early afternoon, yesterday. It was September 2: Vietnam's Independence Day. The journey from Cambodia ran smoothly, but it was very much a journey of two halves.

I left Phnom Penh at 7.30am on the 7am bus, and it took us four hours to trundle and creak along the eighty or so miles of partially unsealed road to the border. The weather was fantastic and the sun beamed light off the tarmac and rubble, so it was no hardship. I was sad to be leaving. I've had such a good time in Cambodia. I've never been anywhere like it. As the bus drove, I thought about the unsubtitled Cambodian film I went to see at the Kirikom Cinema yesterday, trying to unravel the plot in my head from the images I had watched. I've no idea what the film was called.

I arrived at the border at about 12pm, and left the bus to walk through the check points. On the Cambodian side it was a simple formality. The border guard took my departure card, glanced at my passport, and gave me the nod to pass on. I walked out into no-mans-land and towards Vietnam's front door. Once inside their immigration building I had my passport checked about fifty times, and was also issued with a certificate of good health, the evidence of this being I told them I was in good health. Then I took my first steps out into the sunshine of Vietnam, and realised I was in a very different place.

I was met by a large luxurious tour bus, as good as any you'll find in the UK, and an English speaking guide who was ready with a big, 'welcome to Vietnam.' The bus sped me across to Ho Chi Minh City, taking only an hour and a half to travel a similar distance to the earlier four hour ride across Cambodia. I spent the hour and a half looking out the window, pondering what was different.

Vietnam is undoubtedly very different - bigger, more modern, developed, but with a more subtle 'low keyness' than either Cambodia or Thailand. The people on the road looked like they had more money, and looked busy and employed and engaged. These were my first impressions anyway.

I also noticed from the signs flashing by that the Vietnamese write their words using English characters (in Cambodia and Thailand the written characters look a bit like Arabic or Hebrew) so it is possible to pronounce the words phonetically as they are read. What struck me was how rude the words sound on the English ear. For example, we passed a lot of shops called 'My Dung,' and businesses had names like 'Hung Lo,' 'Bum Bum,' and 'Mei Phat,' and, worst of all, I noticed from a signboard that the proprietor of one of the hotels at my destination was called, 'Phoc Greyhair.' I'm not sure what colour his hair is, or what his sentiments are in regard to it.

Once dropped off, I went and found a room in a hotel on a backstreet alleyway full of food stalls, and small shops. The street is only about ten feet wide, and the buildings are all four or five stories high. It's very enclosed. My room is up a narrow staircase, entered through a discreet iron door, guarded by my very friendly landlady. My room has a big window which opens right up, and looks straight down over all the hustle and bustle below. It's the most magical view. I've already spent a fair bit of time leaning out of the window people watching, and inhaling the smell of the food. Because yesterday was Independence Day the alley was squeezed full of entertainment, including at one point a group of sword swallowers and a brass band. All very interesting.

So here it begins: Vietnam. There's so much to see and only a month to do it in. It feels a daunting prospect at the moment, so I'd better go and start making some serious plans. Vietnam's a classy lady by the looks of it, and I want to spend the next four weeks going over every inch of her.

Full name: Socialist Republic of Vietnam
Population: 83.6 million (UN, 2005)
Capital: Hanoi
Area: 329,247 sq km (127,123 sq miles)
Major language: Vietnamese
Major religion: Buddhism
Life expectancy: 68 years (men), 72 years (women) (UN)
Monetary unit: 1 dong = 100 xu
Main exports: Petroleum, rice, coffee, clothing, fish
GNI per capita: US $620 (World Bank, 2006)
Internet domain: .vn
International dialling code: +84