Vietnam is a bad-ass country that I have a crush on. A rebellious past, courageously standing up to big bullies, yet gentle, kind and damn good looking. We flew into Ho Chi Minh City on July 16 from Hong Kong, and for days "Ho Chi Minh, I'm in love" kept swimming through my head. Right off the plane, we got into a cab and were shuttled through the streets, a sea of motorcyclists. In Paris, I detested les motos - they are smelly, loud and annoying. In HCMC, they somehow seemed much less loud and smelly, and I actually found them charming and a bit hypnotic. It's not really logical - they don't obey traffic signs, and crossing the street can seem pretty daunting at first. But then you just go, keep a steady pace, and
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