Can anything prepare you for Ho Chi Minh City?

It wasn't my intention to write a blog for this trip, but Alison and I are so awe struck by our first day in this former capital of what used to be the Republic of Vietnam that she thought we should. We are joined on this trip by Imogen and her partner, Matthew, at least for the first week, so it should be good to have another pair of eyes to help us take everything in (not to mention just crossing the road).

This is one of the quieter roads. And who cares about properly maintained electricity infrastructure, just hang the cables from whatever post you can find.

We walk over this bridge every time we need to go somewhere.

Our first day in HCMC was a very, very wet one. In fact, we had what they call 'thundery showers' almost non-stop. At one point, you could see nothing from out 27th story penthouse (and, yes, it is a penthouse) the rain was so intense. Mind you, even when it's not raining you still can't see the sky; it's either smog or cloud but we haven't seen the sun once. The forecast for the rest of our stay in HCMC is no better, with similar conditions every day until we leave on Wednesday. 

View from our window, gosh we're wealthy tourists.

The other view from our window, what a contrast.

Alison and I thought Athens was chaotic but nothing prepares you for HCMC, nothing! It's what you would come up with if you were given the task of devising a system of complete madness yet, for reasons I haven't yet been able to fathom, it works completely fine for the locals. Everything in this city has its own method to its madness, even if that method is as foreign to an interloper as the language itself. Nothing about this place makes any sense to us, but that makes no difference as the people are largely oblivious to us anyway. There is certainly not much English spoken here and you could count the westerners we've seen on one hand.

Dinner last night.

City Hall

Ben Tanhn Market. In the foreground is the HCMC underground being constructed with the Japanese.

There's not much of the old Saigon remaining, but these trees are a nice reminder of the old days.

Our taxi ride from the airport to our apartment was our first baptism of this place. At first (and by that I mean in the first sixty seconds) I thought we would be killed in an accident, but then you start to realise this is the way it is over here. We were surrounded on every side by cars, motorbikes and small trucks who maneuver in and out around you as if you weren't even there. There are horns tooting everywhere, but nobody seems to pay any attention. I can't quite figure out whether they're the world's most skillful drivers or just completely oblivious to the reality of road trauma. In the end, we just relaxed and sat back knowing this might have been our last day alive.

But if you think driving on the roads is a death wish, try crossing them. The locals have no regard for traffic lights, crossing signs, pedestrians, civilities, in fact anything remotely resembling civilisation. Our first tentative attempt at crossing a road almost saw us collected. Strangely enough, after only a day at it, we've become almost experts. The trick is, make your mind up and just cross, don't look back and never, ever hesitate or else you're a goner. The motorbikes will just maneuver around you, but hesitate or confuse them and it's another tourist bites the dust. As I said, it's just another chaotic system but it works.

You can buy anything you want just on the streets, but Alison says it's too risky (what would she know).

The Saigon River is like a filthy drain.

The filthiness and squalor of the place is the other thing which smacks you right in the nose. Because it is so wet, the pavements are covered with all manner of things squashed and soaked. It is amazing to see how humans are prepared to live, and it certainly reinforces how 'soft' our lives are back home. Alison and I get concerned if we haven't swept the floor or vacuumed the carpet for a few days, over here it's more likely to be, "I haven't scraped the dog crap off the pavement for a few months". 

Despite the rain, we're out and about as much as possible. I can't say I like this place, but we've come all this way so we'll make the most of it. Anyway, since my beloved Geelong Cats are out of the competition, there's really no incentive to return home. I might just have to stay here and join the cesspit.