The bus to Saigon (I call it that for short, and also because the older Vietnamese still refer to it that way) takes about five hours from Mui Né.
Saigon teems with mopeds, with hundreds passing at every crossing. Traffic lights are taken as mere suggestions and crossing the road involves playing multiple games of chicken all at once. I quickly take to running across the road, holding my arm like an American footballer running back, shouting ‘stop!’ very loudly.
I walk around the city centre for a while, until I get to the War Remnants Museum, which until relatively recently was called the War Crimes Museum. It’s nearing evening, so already closed, but I take a few pictures of the US planes, tanks and helicopters that are on display outside.
At the hotel, I book a tour of the Cu Chi Viet Cong tunnels preserved from the war for tomorrow.
In the evening, joining some of the lads and Jen and Stacey for a short bar crawl, I try the traffic warden technique, i.e. trying to stop traffic by waving my hands to get everyone across the road. It doesn’t work.
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