Vietnam is Cambodia on crack. Traffic is a clusterfuck of motor scooters. Red lights seem like starting blocks for a 100 man deep field in a marathon race. It's daunting to be in the intersection when Saigon turns green and wizzes by.
Nobody we had met so far seemed very enthusiastic about Vietnam. It was sort of the Luxemburg of the region, people did not tell you not to go, but the place got a lot of shrugs and then conversation turned back to the Krabi's of the world. Saigon is not a tourist trap but a booming city, slam packed with extremely cute and curious kids who all sport American accents including when they pronounce the world Vietnam. I love it. Also sugary drinks are abound and tomorrow we will head to the old war era tunnels that were used to hide out in and smuggle arms to Cambodia back in the good old days of American carpet bombings.
A lot of older American gentlemen in pairs (not couples) in spiffy sunglasses and Nikes are running around the place as well trying to converse in Vietnamese with the shoe polishers who try desperately to convince them to get their sneakers polished for the third time before breakfast. War vets I am assuming.
Oh and do I love pho with beef or pho with chicken or pho with duck and do I love baguettes with everything under the sun but mostly bacon on them? Yes, I do!
Tonight holds a special treat: A Vietnamese country cover band. I am hoping for Johnny Cash interpretations.
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