Vietnam

Had a couple of weeks off for half term, so me and Marni...



...went to Vietnam.



Flew in to Hanoi where the traffic was Patrick Swayze...



and the dragons were smoking...



but the puppets weren't.



After seeing what the locals could carry on their motorbikes...



... we went to Halong Bay.




Which, it turns out, is actually very nice.








Stayed out for a night on a boat like this...



...but I think I must have contracted a slight dose of food poisoning because I woke up in the middle of the night and felt a bit queasy. The sort of 'queasy' where you feel as if you might vomit quite soon. I was right. Unfortunately I've not got pictures. However, I'll try to describe it: over the next few hours I made about 12 trips to the toilet. Obviously the first one was a big one. No carrots that I could make out, but lots of chunder and a variety of seafood consumed earlier in the day (crab, squid, prawn spring to mind) along with a few cans of the local beer. Every time I thought to myself, This is surely the last one, but still it came. You know you're close when the bile starts to come and each retching sound and stomach contraction fails to bring anything worth writing to your mum about. It didn't though - finish, that is. I just kept on retching for about 4 or 5 more goes. You'd think your body would say, "OK. It's all gone. That's you off the hook." But it didn't.

Felt rough at breakfast, mind. Couldn't even eat anything, which worried someone like me. I didn't eat anything until later that evening, when I tucked in to a Vietnamese buffet at the hotel. I knew I was alright then.

(That sick episode has just reminded me of a good vomiting story from when I worked in Switzerland for the summer. Apologies to those of you who've heard it before. Dr Andrew Legg - the tennis coach and aspirant medical doctor - is the lad who the story is based on. I think it was the end of the summer camp and all the staff were out in town for beers. We'd already had a few, along with the usual drinking games. It was going well in a local bar and I think Andrew was really knocking them back. Anyway, he happened to vomit whilst sitting at the bar table. Luckily for him, he managed to catch his regurgitations with his empty beer glass (approximately half a pint, maybe a bit more). Unluckily for us, he then smiled wryly, looked us all in the eye as best he could, and then said, "No, no, no! I musht dwink whattt's innn my glass!" He then drank about half a pint of his own spew, before putting his glass triumphantly down on the table. No need, in my opinion. He'd have felt just as good (and we'd have all felt slightly better) if he'd have gone to the toilet and poured his glass contents down the shitter. Apparently, that's what medical students did. He's practising now, somewhere up north. Got a feeling it might be Huddersfield, if you fancy getting in touch with the NHS.

Went back to Hanoi and got the overnight train to a village called Sapa, up in the mountains...



...where the locals like to grow a lot of rice.



Don't be fooled by the angelic face of this local girl...



They'll follow you for miles trying to sell you bags and bracelets (she left when I asked her if she wanted to buy some shoes).




"That's him, mum - the one who made fun of me for having no shoes. Him with the camera."



Nice place though, despite the pleas of "YOU BUY FROM ME?"





Then flew down to the middle of the country to a place called Hoi An, the tailoring capital of the country.



Visited some other old stuff in a place called My Son...



...and managed to get the stereotypical shot of a Vietnamese lady without asking.



On our last day in the country, we went to the Vinh Moc tunnels: an elaborate network of underground tunnels where a lot of the northern Communists used to live and hide during the American war. These people used to bear the brunt of a lot of American firepower as they were situated just north of the demilitarised zone, which separated north from south. They used to live in the tunnels in little caves like this. These aren't real people though: they're just models.



We also visited the old USA military base of Khe Sanh, site of an infamous and quite bloody battle. This is me, coming out of a bunker with a gun (two fingers squeezed together). It might look like I'm making a joke out of it all, but if you think that, you're wrong. I wasn't. In fact, while I was there I managed to coin this little phrase during my tour. I think it's quite profound: "WAR! WHAT IS IT GOOD FOR? ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!"