I’m interrupting Tori’s writing on the rest of our time in China in order to get recollections on Vietnam down before they fade too far from my own memory. Hopefully an unfaithful chronology will not be a deterrent.

We got into Hanoi early in the morning, following an interesting night by train from Nanning that saw us sharing a cabin with two Chinese-speaking Germans and my continued interrogations by customs officials about my choices of books. A quick cab ride brought us into the center where we settled into the old quarter and got down to business.

Vietnamese cities are characteristically loud, a byproduct of the constant motos that swirl down the web of streets and the din that accompanies everything else trying to be heard over this. Perhaps China has inured me to it, but the noise seems to not exist for me and without it, Hanoi is a singularly pleasant place to while the time away, which I did with abandon, taking enjoyment in the myriad cafes, breads, and fruit smoothies on offer, as well as palatable western food missing in Shenzhen.

Overall I didn’t do much, accompanying Tori to sites (Ha Long Bay excepted), and seeing a few new ones, like the abridged Hanoi Hilton, the bulk of which was sectioned off for new development. Both of us were content to relax and enjoy the city, and my happy memories of Hanoi were again reinforced, this time infused with a passion for the whirlwind moto taxis that whip you between the farther flung spots.

The next stop was Hue, the imperial capital which featured an imperial palace and old tombs on the outskirts. Heat was the biggest enemy here, turning any excursion outside into an exercise in survival. Nevertheless Hue is smaller and more manageable than the big two, and riding bikes in the countryside was fun. A long day of bus, plane, and taxi got us to Saigon, set up in Pham Ngu Lao, the backpacker ghetto, the poor man’s Khao San Road.

Entreated by the chorus of ‘Hello, moto, where you go?’ we took to seeing the War Remnants Museum, which I passed on to read the Economist outside whilst Tori took in the disfigured fetuses courtesy of Agent Orange. From there we went to the An Dong market in Cholon, the HCMC version of Chinatown. The feeling of Saigon is a city much bigger than Hanoi, probably wealthier, but I think also lacking the humanizing traits that make Hanoi such a pleasure.

Our penultimate day involved a haphazard Mekong Delta tour, a term to be taken lightly as we basically skipped around a few islands set in the broad brown current, seeing ‘famous’ local things that, surprise, we could buy for a good price. Sometimes in Asia you get hosed, and that’s a part of the experience. All the same it was something new and not unworthy of the long bus rides that sandwiched either end of the boating excursion. Just not something I’d repeat.

Some early-morning confusion led to us boarding a bus to Phnom Penh instead of Siem Reap, for reasons not entirely explained. All the same, we got into Cambodia successfully and after a brief diversion which I will describe later, are now in Angkor. Vietnam, again, was beautiful and in general the people are fantastic. There are so many other places to see strung on the roads between the two big cities, its a shame time is so limited.