I was 21 when the US loaded the last of its people onto helicopters on the roof of its embassy in Saigon and withdrew from this country. Forty years later, it is surreal to be standing on Vietnamese soil, getting the other side of the story. Because there are always two sides, and we got a lot of propaganda and outright lies when we heard the first version.
Spent about six hours wandering the streets of Ho Chi Minh City’s District 1 today. First the War Remnants Museum, then Independence Palace, Notte Dame Cathedral, the charming Post Office Building and finally, massive Ben Thanh Market. Traffic is deadly. The number of motorbikes on the street is mind-boggling, and they have their own rules, often driving on the sidewalk when it’s more convenient than the road. Pedestrians have no choice but to plough into the middle of the onslaught because if you don’t, you don’t get anywhere. I had a few gasps today but nothing that I consider a close call. It all seems to work.
I’m pretty sure I’m in a backpacker slum of sorts. There aren’t many locals and there appears to be a heavy emphasis on beer. No worries though, the hotel is great and there’s a superb Indian restaurant around the corner. I’m outta here in the morning for the Mekong delta.
