Vietnam (more photos to come) (it will not let me do apostrophes!!!!!!!!!)

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Good day yall

Sam here, writing about our first few weeks in Vietnam.

We arrived in Ho Chi Minh City to be met with blistering heat, but more worryingly, tanks and attack helicopters lining the runway. After the usual chaos and some hard bartering, we departed the airport in a taxi with two Chinese girls, and made our way into Ho Chi Minh City.

We stayed at a charming little guesthouse, in which Lauras friend Rachel was staying, and I got to watch some live football, much to Lauras happiness.

Saigon, as it is commonly known, provided 5 nights of inescapable madness. The roads are insane, the shops and restaurants overcharge and short-change like there’s no tomorrow, and the weather was incredibly humid. For us, the city lacked any kind of charm. It was ugly as sin, incredibly noisy, but worse than this, the majority of the locals were downright unpleasant towards us. If you did not buy something from a passing sunglasses seller you would be, more often than not, on the receiving end of a verbal insult. More worryingly, nobody in Saigon smiled. Many have good reason I am sure, but nevertheless, on top of the blatant scamming and lying, it was a worrying introduction to Vietnam.

The highlights of our time in the city were miserable themselves, but with good reason. We visited the harrowing War Remnants Museum, which displayed images more graphic than anything either I or Laura had ever seen before. The political bias of the museum was equally eye-opening. Goebbels would have been proud of some of the captions accompanying the photographs - if a group of Viet Cong rebels were marching through a rice field, the caption would read: "a group of heroic patriots assist the local farmers and provide them with security". If the photo contained a group of Americans marching through a rice field, the caption would read "a group of barbaric assassins make their way to exterminate the innocent inhabitants of a village". Much of these captions may well be pretty accurate, but I hope that those who visit the reconstructed torture rooms used by the Americans and South Vietnamese and read the accompanying descriptions, do not forget such characters as Senator McCain, whose disabilities as a result of torture at the hands of the North Vietnamese were all too evident during his recent run for Presidency. I don mean to justify Americas presence in Vietnam, and the suffering they inflicted during the war, but nevertheless, the museum told only some, not all, truths of the war.

The exhibition of photographs taken by 137 photographers, of differing nationalities, who were killed in the America-Vietnam War, was more noble and as a consequence, more affecting. More than anything else in the museum, however, the photographs of two Japanese photographers who chose to publicise the on-going birth defects and accompanying sufferings of Agent Orange victims was truly gut-wrenching. Few in the room were able to view all of the photographs. I had to go and sit outside for 10 minutes and get some fresh air. The scars left by this substance are still evident all over the countryside, but even in Saigon we saw children who had clearly been affected by the dropping of this poison, which occurred perhaps 30 years before their birth.

We also visited the Reunification Palace: sight of the famous tank-crashing-through-the-gate in 1975. The place was so undeniably CIA built!

We also undertook a couple of tours, which were somewhat bizarre and loaded with interesting characters. Slim Jim and his American quips took us to the Cu Ci tunnels, but the presence of former Viet Cong gorilla fighters prevented the former South Vietnamese soldier from expressing his thoughts on the war and the aftermath. We also fired an AK47, which was quite an experience.

The next day we headed to the Mekong Delta on a tour full of middle aged people, some of whom (two fat Americans from Las Vegas) were accompanied with young Vietnamese young ladies of rather more beauty than themselves. One of these girls was 25 years old and informed us that she had been on the tour 11 times with her friends. She was going to school in the evening after the tour. Secondary school in Vietnam must be paid for, and thus we were left making assumptions as to her motives for coming on the tour so often with her friends.

From Saigon we headed up the coast to the stunning Mui Ne, which was a paradise. We were able to wander out of our hotel room, go down some steps, and be on a deserted beach. The restaurants were amazingly cheap and the food was fantastic: seafood caught in the morning and bbq-d in front of you at your table. The scallops were marvelous!

After 3 nights there we headed to the mountain town of Dalat, high up in Vietnams Central Highlands. The journey there took place almost entirely at 10 mph on roads so bad it defied belief. It was all worth it though, as the town in the clouds proved to be stunning. We headed into the countryside on the back of motorbikes with a couple of old guys for company, who proceeded to give us a personal tour of the area. We were 2000m above sea level, surrounded by the most fertile land in Vietnam, in which grows much of the countrys vegetables. We had drinks with some off-duty tour guides which was fun, and discussed some of Vietnam’s politics, history, and of course, the fortunes of Liverpool FC and Nottingham Forest. Everybody here loves Stevie G. Nathan Tyson fails to hold the same attraction it seems...

Danny (a nickname), one of the tour guides, was exceptionally friendly. We talked about the tourist industry in Vietnam and how it compared to Thailand. We discussed why being a tourist in Vietnam, a far less developed nation than Thailand, is a more expensive experience in the former than the latter. Danny believes it is because Vietnam needs the money for investment. I asked him whether he thought that this obsession with tourism and the desire to fill the country with sweaty westerners was a good thing. His answer was a firm yes. The next day, on our bike rides through the country, Anh (Lauras biker guide) told us that, whilst Vietnam remains such an agricultural nation, it will always be poor. It is now the second biggest coffee growing nation in the world, behind Brazil and ahead of Columbia, and it supplies much of Asias florists with sumptuous flowers. Nevertheless, Anh was adamant that this will never bring Vietnam true wealth. Perhaps this explains Dannys ardent belief that tourism is essential for Vietnam, besides keeping him in a job. I think it was the unscrupulous manner in which we were seen and treated in Saigon that made us want to discuss the nature of tourism in Vietnam. We were predominantly seen as walking wallets in Saigon, which is perhaps a fair assessment, but nevertheless, the lack of respect was short-sighted, and probably led to us spending less money than we would have done ordinarily!

However, as soon as we escaped Saigon, the people and the attitudes changed. Those heading from Hanoi, south through the country, have said that they had similar experiences in Hanoi. It is a pity that the two gateways into Vietnam leave one with a bitter taste, which does not do justice to this beautiful country, full of welcoming people. Despite Mui Nes beauty, it was only after several days in Dalat that we started to enjoy Vietnam. I think, after six weeks of travelling, without meaning to sound pompous or pretentious, it has become clear that the true joy of travelling, is not a beautiful mountain range or a desolate beach paradise, but the people you meet and the sights and smells of everyday life. Everywhere we have been has a distinctive feel, which in turn has a dramatic impact on our actions and our thoughts. There is something infinitely more appealing about watching 20 street-food-vendors and their seated (on plastic chairs) customers scampering from a public space because the police have arrived, than a glance at a beautiful mountain or a pretty beach. I don know if Laura would echo these sentiments, and perhaps I am just having a moment of madness, but, in my mind today at least, food and fun is better than sand and sea.

But I must now contradict myself, and discuss the journey from Dalat to Nha Trang which was as stunningly beautiful as it was perilous - descending from the mountains along an under-construction highway, beneath and above waterfalls, creeping along collapsing clay soil verges, and peeking through the clouds. At one point several passengers switched sides on the bus due to an Italian Job moment on the side of the road, but it was most definitely worth it.

I will leave Laura to write about Nha Trang and Hoi An. In reality I am writing this in our hotel in Hoi An in the middle of a monsoon, so the thoughts on Saigon, Mui Ne and Dalat are not very contemporaneous - I apologise.

Hope you enjoy reading Lauras blog and were not overly bored by this one. Lauras may even make mention of a bit of karaoke....

Much love

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