VIETNAM - Ho Chi Minh (Saigon)

"Bullshit Mister! Why are you such a bad man?" This remark was directed with some venom at Philip. Adult eyes glared out of the face of a 12 year old boy as he spat the words. He'd approached us as we sat outside a bar and had been much miffed by the fact that the cheap, illeagle copy of 'Lonely Planet: Vietnam' that Philip had bought in Thailand, was a more recent copy that the pirate copy that he was peddling. He wanted to borrow the copy to copy it again and Philip was understandably reluctant to hand it over. Finally, for a quiet life, he agreed to do so, on the condition that the boy left all of his other books with us. It just goes to show that if you give an inch... Poor Philip was accosted by the same boy the night after who was just looking for a fight. These kids can be pretty grating on the patience but they seem to grow out of it, if the older hawkers are anything to go by.

But that aside I enjoyed my short stint in Ho Chi Minh. On Monday I happily surrendoured all map reading responsibilities and trotted around after Philip as he lead us around the city taking in the major sites: The covered Ben Thanh Market, where you are practically rugby tackled by merchants trying to sell you trousers as you pass; the Fine Arts Museum, sadly closed on Mondays but in a beautiful colonial villa so I stared longingly at the awening, my thirst for some art remaining un-quenched; the Ho Chi Minh City Museum; the rather depressing War Remnants Museum that offers a rather one-sided account of the 'American War' and holds some unbelievably grusome reminders of the brutality of mankind; past the Natre Dame Cathedral - very incongruous - and then back to the Pham Ngu Lao area where we are staying, diving out of the way of motor cycles and saying a silent prayer every time we crossed the road.
On Tuesday we boarded a large tourist bus and were packed off to suffle obidiently around Cu Chi (a district 60km out of the city) and marvel at the remarkable system okf tunnels winding for some 200kms around Ho Chi Minh. The Viet Cong lived in these tunnels whilst fighting the Americans and they have now become a symbol of 'Vietnamese Revolutionary Herosim'.
Our cheerful, toothless guide showed us a 1960s propaganda 'documentory' about the tunnels commending the Viet Cong as "American killing heros." When you see the ingenious ways in which they disguised the tunnels and numerous ways they found for giving American soldiers long and painful deaths as they fell into traps all over the jungle, recycling weapons used on them, you wonder how the Americans ever thought they stood a chance. The Viet Cong were totally relentless in their determination and, unlike the Americans, where never struck with the moral crushing feelings of futility. Consequently, they won.

On my last evening in Saigon, I went for a wander in the little park near our guest house and cused myself immediately for not bringing a camera. The park itself is fairly conventional, but pleasing, with tarmac for jogging and ball games, punctuated with neat walled patches of grass with an occasional palm tree plonked fetchingly in the middle. The earlier rain had cleared for a pretty mauve sunset that sat reflected in the puddles. People strolled, stretched, jogged and played impressive games of keepy-uppy - popular in South East Asia. I was politely offered a "Good evening" by a beautiful girl dressed in the silk trousers and high necked tunics - slit to the waist - that you see so many elegant girls wearing here (which causes the most amusing effect on Philip). The setting sun danced off the shiny windows of a glitzy office building and the motor horns tooted in approval. I wished I could have stayed longer.