Street scenes, Saigon

It seems odd to leave work early, midweek, to go to a place most people turn their noses up at when they first hear. “Vietnam? For pleasure?” said the African girl behind the counter at Boots where I bought my diarrhoea sachets. Most people at work think we’re mad to be going but then most of them haven’t worked out we’re going together yet.
At Ho Chi Minh airport after a long but incident-free flight, the air is stifling hot and wet; it’s 8pm. The exit and taxi ride are easily negotiated and we arrive at an unmemorable but acceptable hotel in Pham Nga Lao, downtown Saigon. Outside everything is still happening so we venture out of our “box” room, take a beer and wait for life here to sink in. Mopeds swarm by and the atmosphere, far from feeling pressured and crime-ridden (like Nairobi did the last time I arrived in a developing city), is buzzing with energy, vigour, smiles and excitement.
The night’s sleep is generally okay but fractured. At 2am I wake up and am almost shouting to Pam that there is no way out. I am having a dream where our room is a ground floor shop unit and we’ve actually concreted ourselves in. Since I hardly know the layout of the room this is highly confusing and disorientating but causes Pam much hilarity. Luckily, thanks to the jet lag, we’re straight back to sleep after this disturbance until first 7.20am and then 11am. Lack of windows means we can’t be sure if the rain we’re expecting has come or not. Luckily it hasn’t.