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.