[Author's Note: This story is taken from notes written as it happened. I make no apologies for lack of flow and the poor grammar (She’s an English Teacher?) in advance...it's a play by play, day by day....]

The adventure begins from Pusan through Seoul, then 5 hours to Ho Chi Minh City. Our spirits are high, but our patience tested as our flight is delayed by some passengers who decided not to board the Boeing Behemoth and the ground crew must dutifully unload all of their luggage from the bowels of our aeroplane. (Mental note: fashion voodoo effigies of said passengers with the sludge I'll be rationed in flight....)

Good Morning Viet Nam! My kindly comrade let me sleep in. I woke around 9 and we ventured out into the brutal humidity of the day. We acquired $200 US worth of Vietnamese Dong. (NVD) I'm packing several million now, my wallet will not close...I'm sure a meal ticket temptation to the myriad of shoeless urchins holding bowls in my face while I'm measured for tailor made silk pants. (Feeling like the hangdog now...)

Cyclo men sat with us while we dined on the street eating something made with rice, vegetables and meat I've never tasted, and didn't finish. They wouldn't tell us what it was...could be cat, could be cobra for all I know. We'll eat at a restaurant later, guaranteeing our culinary safety for the time being. My comrade thinks spring rolls are the ticket...no need to tell me twice.

We've come for a pit stop at the Trung Nguyen Ca Phe for an Arabic Roast...closer to caffeine concentrate. My teeth are numb and stained permanently I fear...different...and threatening to those of us with addictive personalities and a penchant for all vices deemed legal. Now off to the market.

Back in the hotel room after a long walkabout. We embarked on a cyclo ride to the Jade Pagoda. The drivers quoted d20,000, but then tried to charge us 10x the price. However Ali's driver made the mistake of writing the price on her hand...so, har har, we vanquished them. Picked up some souvenir-ish stuff on our walking tour, and gifts for the comrades in Korea and Canada. Stumbled upon the Hard Rock Cafe after a stop at Baskin Robbins (?). We met a couple of Surrey girls, Michelle and another Alison. Verrry chatty and rightfully so after a magnum of cheap wine. I quaffed a Tiger and Alison her usual Bordeaux. I listened attentively (well, tried to look attentive) to Michelle, hairdresser to the stars, banter away for well, eternity. Interestingly she said to us..."Please don't categorize me." Funny, because there is no category for her. Not quite priggish, not quite "dumb blonde". London Lush is as close as I can get. After breaking free from the claws of happy go lucky, we walked around in search of a cyclo. Murphy's Law ensures that when indeed your feet hurt and you have a pool of sweat 2 inches deep between your itchy breasts, not one is to be found. One swankety swank hotel had a sign written in Vietnamese that appeared to state "Chaos Waiting" as the stripper lights circled around it. Alluring....I like it.

Choke on this....that first dish we ate this morning...well I guess the English speaking server called it Chien Chen (not pronounced how it's spelled). Anyway, you guessed it...Filet of Fido. Fuck. A whole year in Korea without a single spoonful of BoShin Tong (Dog Soup) and we get hit with it the first frikken day!!! Wow...or should I say Bow Wow?

Sinh Restaurant...Pineapple and coconut milkshakes and springroll city!! Foreign travellers with gigantasaur travel packs lounge about in a puff of Marlboro madness and Heineken decompression. Alicat's vegetable noodle soup emanates the most mouthwatering smell, and I've been presented with veggies and rice begging to be ravaged in the in the most savage sense this hunger pleads for.

Ahhh, finished...although the spring rolls were a bitter disappointment...they were definitely processed for vegetarian needs, but by no means manufactured for culinary satisfaction. The pineapple milkshake was the cat's ass however. Now to pay our d40,000 and get some potable water.

Went to pick up the silk pants, mine are pretty swank but Alicat's were a little too tight. Had a jazzmatazz shower scraping the layers of sweat, dust and smog from just about every possible nook and cranny in my 2000 parts. Now to baste myself in the new tub of Tiger balm. So ends another day of consumer frenzy. Tomorrow, we will take a bus to the Me Kong Delta first thing. Now to retire in my communist T-shirt while I read about post-WWII intellectualism. I stare at the ceiling and realize I'm sleeping within a sky blue trapezoid, complete with the retro velvet portrait of galloping Clydesdales any Budwieser drinker would likely trade a 12 pack for....

Asphalt Sociopaths...

Alicat's 35th Birthday today!! Oh happy day, with a stroke of luck we meet a very nice and extremely good looking Spanish God named Ibon. We are on a minibus to connect with our tourbus to the Delta. Our guide quells our fears and reassures us all is well. His good intentions are countered by his explanation of the Vietnamese road rules otherwise known herein as Asphalt Sociopathics. "See that traffic light over there, actually, it's just there for fun".

We've stopped for lunch on Phoenix Island after a Me Kong ferry and canoe trip through the sinister shade of the palms. After a solid vow to cease my penchants for consumerism, I purchased a rad ass bamboo xylophone for about 5 bones. Ate some fruit, drank some tea, chased a few giant butterflies. Otherwise basking in the glory of coconut culture. Ahhhh, now time for some downtime ala hammock...

My Tho, the poorest city in the Mekong Delta, otherwise known as the Agent Orange Theme Park.

Eating dinner after a long search for food....surprisingly few restaurants. I'm having Ban Xeo (pancake) and Goi Cuon (fresh spring rolls). Alison too, although sadly nothing in this city resembles a birthday cake here.

Well after a leisurely dinner with the locals we're done for the day. A cool refreshing shower and now to dine on some of the coconut candy from Dragon Island. Way too addictive...who needs opium. The boat tour today was pretty cool. Man, that palm tree ceiling, the occasional banter of birds and gaping geckos. We chanced upon a plethora of stone sarcophagi along the paths, sides of the road, in the rice fields and even as a novelty item off the front porch. Lack of war leaves more of the living to other perilous ends. Apparently, these unfortunate souls who haven't split their heads open crashing a Honda end up suffering a most unusual "never saw that one coming" death. Falling coconuts. What to do...? Should I look up to avoid death from above or look down to circumnavigate cranky cobras. I've decided to stare straight ahead and appear as if I have a clue.

We said goodbye to Mr. Wonderful, Ibon of Spain. (a mist comes to my eyes....could be the dust...) Alicat is reflecting on the true meaning of being 35...the reality hasn't hit her yet. Or at least it didn't until Spanish Hottie told us he was only 23. I could see the pain on her brow as she realized the kid she babysat when she was 12, is the same age as our Euro Hero. She's consoling herself with writing about her tailor made pants and making up tongue twisters. Bum crack creep, bum crack creep, bum crack creep....(Note: before her pants were altered one more time, they were a little uh, creepy)

Odd that I hadn't noticed the sun sets around 5:30 here. Our current location is 106.5E/10.3N putting us about 300 km from the equator. Hoo boy, its hhhhhoooottt and humid! Our rhomboid room complete with air conditioner, ants and a multitude of lingering lizards. Last note...the people of My Tho are warm and friendly. They have all gone out of their way to smile, wave, nod and say hello. Unlike Saigon, these people are the poorest of the poor, yet even the street merchants, cyclo guys and the odd beggar didn't really bother us. (aside from the guys offering boat tours) As I've said, My Tho is the poorest town on the Delta. Indeed what little infrastructure there is looks as if an F-16 dropped a payload of Napalm death just last week. The merchants and locals seemed rather surprised to see a couple of 3W's (Western White Women) checking out their scene. In fact we saw no travelers except near the hotel where those boat launches are. Though not a place for those with a liking of all things aesthetic, it holds a quaint but riveting reality of what it means to be poor in Viet Nam.

The brutal day has begun with yet another change in plans. We are now on a very dusty road on an equally dusty bus heading (God willing) to Vinh Long. As it turns out there are no ferries from My Tho and private launches are way way expensive, not to mention life threatening. My companion detests our sarcophagus on wheels. Zero leg room and no air conditioning. Scratch that; we do have open windows that allow for all the dust and sniffs to be smelled. But I ask what can you expect for 75 cents....aside from a chocolate bar...not much. (Note: a word to the wise for communist travel...NEVER trust anything with dingle balls and religious figures such as neon Buddhas. Actually here, that means never trust anything...)

This has been the most spine crushing tooth smashing lesson in true grit to be discovered within Indochina today. It seems the bus doesn't go straight into Vinh Long. Instead my comrade and I have been dropped into some hole called An Huu. We've taken a break after about a kilometre of pavement hiking while fending off the Hondaboys. A warm orange Fanta to drink as we McGyver a game plan. Lack of cyclos means we'll have to cling precariously to the sides of a motorcycle. Not a great idea considering all the gear we're carrying front and back. My companion is now dining on noodle soup but I'll keep the baguette I bought in My Tho handy for my own herbivore needs later. Somehow we've moved ourselves from Sunday Bloody Sunday in downtown Saigon to a bad Vietnamese rendition of "What is Love (Baby don't hurt me)"

After walking a couple of clicks, we managed to haggle a ride on a minibus which dropped us in Vinh Long although we had to double back a bit in a cyclo. The dude said d15,000, but we gave him 20k because he hauled both our sorry asses and all our gear all the way to the strip in that sun. We arrived to find one very pricey hotel and one I'm sure it harbours all kinds of exotic fauna. We walked around and found one further back for d150,000 and the room is pretty swank, although the spiders on the ceiling are silently menacing.

My companion is in the shower while I nurse my right foot  -  I'm in limp mode  -  lots of foot miles the last few days. It didn't help when I gave it a bone crushing whack on the bedpost after opening the fancy smancy colonial curtains. Thinking about a shower, I've had a waterfall between my tits for oh about 6 hours. I won't even get into the backside situation. Vinh Long means R&R for me at this point. I'll get the energy to venture out for vittles and potable inebriants eventually.

Back to Hotel Hoity Toity after a market visit. We sipped coffee with condensed milk by the waterfront (Co Chien River  -  a Me Kong tributary) I then attempted to look for palatable victuals by doubling back and finding a place that served rice and veggies. I'm having trouble suiting my vegetarian and particularly crustacean-free tastes. Most proprietors won't accommodate me and simply don't understand my allergies. R&R now; a bus to Sa Dec tomorrow.

To Be Continued….