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