Getting There

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The Rugby World Cup consumed enough of my limited mind-space prior to this trip to ensure there was little time for preparation or getting excited. The relief of the lads holding Bill aloft after 24 years of waiting was quickly followed by apprehension and excitement for the few days prior to takeoff.

Much of the apprehension was caused by our booking with Jetstar – the saving of near 50%!o(MISSING)n what we could get through travel agents was enough to take a bit of a risk on our choice of airline. The decision paid off as the plane left only 15 minutes late and, aside from an error in judgement in not ordering any food for the 10 1/2 hour flight, it went by like any other flight – slowly and not without it’s screaming babies and lack of legroom.

We arrived in Singapore in plenty of time to make our connection to Ho Chi Minh City, arriving at 2100 local time – 0300 NZ time.

Ho Chi Minh City has a good taxi system in which new arrivals can purchase a taxi chit for US$8 and get a cab to anywhere in the city. In the past when we’ve arrived in new countries, it is pretty much standard to enjoy your first rip-off experience getting carted from the airport to your hotel (or any hotel the driver feels may be better) and then arguing over the inflated fare on arrival. At Ho Chi Minh City the rip-off is standardised, allowing all tourists to get scammed equally. This helps to avoid that uncomfortable breakfast table conversation with other backpackers the morning after during which we invariably find out we’ve been taken for at least 200%!o(MISSING)f the usual rate

It took about 30 minutes to get to Empress Hotel , just a few blocks from the tourist and backpacker centre of the city and although we were stuffed from the flight, we were hungry enough to walk half an hour or so to the Bến Thành Market for a feed.

We’d been warned about traffic chaos in Ho Chi Minh City and were told that crossing the road was an experience that was both scary and not to be missed.

The warnings were spot on.

All 9 million inhabitants of Ho Chi Minh City had evidently decided to have a night on their scooters, so Jo and I took our lives in our own hands and joined them, albeit on foot. The key was to walk across the road confidently and at a steady pace - pick a line and commit to it. The thousands of scooters, busses and cars swerved around us as we crossed. We had this task mastered.

Dinner was a bowl of Beef Pho (Noodle soup) for Jo and 4 prawn spring rolls for me, all washed down with a Saigon Red and two 333 beers. Total cost D140,000 – just under NZ$10.

We found our way back to the hotel at 2330 and slept pretty damn well after a long day.

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