Look out Saigon, here comes Gil.

6/5 - Up with the lizards. The bus is arriving at 7.00. I gave 2 American lasses some friendly stick for being late. We set off and one of the lasses mentioned passport. I'd left mine at reception, but it was only 100 metres. I had to eat my stick though and it wasn't over yet. I hadn't got my ticket for the ferry from reception either. I had reckoned on picking it up from the ferry place. It changes from place to place. A moto man brought it over for me, 30 bob and I got some brownie points from the lasses, he brought a diary they had left behind. I was last man on the hydrofoil and we are off to Rach Gia. Vietnamese films are shown on board and are played so loud, it's pointless trying to listen to my music. Even though I don't understand them, the films are funny, in a Keystone cops sort of way. The 2nd one has the boat rocking with laughter. Our Mick should be here to watch these, they are his sense of humour. The trip was painless, but not for the lass over from me, throwing up. Another lass was greener than the top she had on, poor buggers. Into port, loaded up and safely back on dry land. Lots of willing help again. Then came the touts. I must just look like a mug, they walk passed all the other tourists to get to me. I am a mug, I nearly always fall for it, but not this time. A transfer to the bus station and I'm off to HCMC. The travelsicker is sat next to me this time, but he is saved by the Mekong, we just pulled up to the ferry as his head was bowing into the sick bag. I didn't have to volunteer to go as a foot passenger this time, we all got thrown out. I'll have to find out why this happens. The heavens opened as we approached HCMC and it is crazy, there are hundreds, probably thousands of motorbikes and bikes going through rainwater a foot deep in places. I have not seen anything like this in a big city before. The bus station is about 8Km outside, but the flooding stretches way down the road towards city centre. I got off the bus to the usual barrage of touts, so went for a wee to escape. A moto driver offered to take me into town, so I laughed and pointed at the rain. He showed me he had a spare cape. It would have been an adventure, but I declined. If his motorbike is in as good nick as him, I doubt we would have made it out the bus station. I ended up in a taxi with a puddle in the back and paid not too much over the odds, I THINK. The traffic rules in HCMC are "he who dares, gets through." I thought we were going to collect a few motorbikes and bikes along the way. You'll have to see it to believe the traffic flow, it is beyond words. We got to Pham Ngu Lao, backpackerville and it is a pretty cool place, just as I'd imagined backpacerville. Everything small and packed together. The landlady at the hotel asked where I am from.
England.
London?
No, the North!
Newcastle? I was gobsmacked. She has been 3 times to a friends and loves the Tyne bridge.
Up the stairs, only to the 2nd floor. The Geordie/Vietnamese took my small pack. Your shoes have to come off before you go upstairs here, the place is spotless.
Shoes off, bags off, sandals on and off to check the eateries. I walked the whole street and plumbed for a place where a Scots lass sat with a big bowl of soup. Good choice and a perfect people-watching table. At last, I tried the famed Pho Bo, beef soup but more. It was bloody lovely and so was the Beer Saigon, which considering I'm in Saigon, it should be really.
Bed time I think. You can't find a woman when you want one, well, a willing one, although there are a few moto drivers around here who could probably help. I haven't looked. HONEST GUV!!.