Gerry Hat-Trick

It was meant to be India. But it turned out some outbreak of inter-governmental handbags had turned the usual month of Indian visa-drudgery into a full on three month nightmare, and we just didn’t have time. The hell with it: we’ll go  to Vietnam! Cab from the airport… traffic gridlocked. Half a k in half

It’s the elephant in the room, of course. For a certain age and mindset, the words ‘Vietnam’ and ‘war’ just go together like a horse & carriage. But not, it would appear, to the Vietnamese. Visiting the Ho Chi Minh City Museum – in effect the national museum – we found it contained almost nothing

No-one bears a grudge. As Westerners, people might assume us to be Americans, or Aussies – onetime combatants, and much more numerous here than Brits. But if anyone was harbouring resentment, it was well harboured. Everywhere people say “Hello!” Especially kids. (They love to high-five!) Everyone smiles. There’s never the slightest hint of menace, whatever

Went out one morning and just had this funny feeling something was missing. Penny dropped: my hat! Yes, I’d left my beloved Panama on the bus back from Ha Long. When I’d stopped crying I spoke to the nice receptionist at our Hanoi hotel. She sympathised, then rang the bus company. They didn’t know, but

It was late when we arrived at Saigon central market, and most of the stalls were shut down for a well-deserved Sunday evening rest, but we were relieved to find several of the food stalls in the middle not quite shut yet. We were keen to get our dinner there having feasted earlier – bbq

5.30am in our homstead by An Bang beach and my alarm goes off. Ah yes. Dawn on the beach. Last day. Now or never. Neeeearly roll over and go back to sleep, but… Billed as ‘watch the fishing boats come in’, it turned to be more about watching the hundred or more locals out this,