#nice lights

Perks of working from home.

Music: Nicolas Jaar - Volver (Label: Other People)

You ever smoke one of those damp, half-broken cigarettes that doesn’t quite burn right? They only taste good at 2 AM

All of the locals call Ho Chi Min City, Saigon still. And as I resided in the city for at least 4 nights, I will as well. I really enjoyed my time there but I must admit it's a strange place. It's a capitalist adonis in an unmistakably communist country. There is also the starkest difference between the rich and poor above anything else I have seen in the rest of SE Asia. I stayed in district 1 with the other throngs of backpackers. The area mainly specialises in bars, clubs, restaurants, massage parlours, hair dressers and street food. There are perhaps 200 establishments in the space of a couple of streets so it very much feels like the place is built on top of itself. I stayed at the Nhi Hi guesthouse and got an absolute bargain. $7 all in got me a single room, hot water, cable TV and en-suite (the works!!). The staff (well family I guess is more appropriate - it was more their house) didn't speak much English, but heck we still got on like a house on fire. Alice and Guilaume were also hitting the mean streets of Saigon at the same time, so I was fortunate enough to spend a lot of my time in their company. Our first stop was for a blind massage where we were unfortunately rather unimpressed. The place was cheap, but it basically felt like I had paid someone $3 to put me in pain for an hour. The beating was appropriately finished by hitting me on the head by (at least what felt like) a novelty plastic hammer. I personally recovered by having a second massage performed by some lovely Vietnamese lady. In reality it did nothing of any benefit for my muscles but sure did feel nice. Happily I then stumbled into Jonas, whom I had previously met in Battambang, outside the imperial palace so impetuously we visited it together. It's cheap (just $0.75!) and luxurious, but not particularly interesting. It shows the rooms where the south Vietnamese cabinet sat and where the presidents wife used to sleep amongst other things. The building is a cross between Art Deco and the 60's love of concrete, so undoubtedly that was a bit of a hit. That night we partied at a roof top bar (drinking alcohol at altitude is just more fun) then stumbled onto one strangest clubs I've ever been too. Jonas had recommended the club which played electro music mixed by a DJ at the front and put on a wicked light show. It's patrons were exclusively rich Vietnamese, rather than scruffy backpackers which was quite refreshing. They were all dressed really nicely and played it pretty cool by not really dancing but partaking in more of an artistic sway. Naturally dancing wise we just went for it and got stuck in. Some would say we embarrassed ourselves.. But I'd prefer to think we demonstrated how to have more fun. The club was different in that there was no dance floor. Instead everyone was grouped around small tables, the vast majority of which included a fruit platter that had been purchased by a patron. We made friends with the table next to us, (largely by dancing upto them until they couldn't miss the hint and felt compelled to join in). I knew we'd been accepted into the fold when they offered round both a slice of watermelon and the generously filled bowl of wasabi peas. Drinks weren't cheap in the place, $25 for 3 cobra (extortionate for Vietnam!): but they did provide a waiter who would stand next to you and salt the top of your beer after every sip. Well at least until you asked him to stop as he's running your drink. I was fully embracing the establishment when a warmed towel was draped on the back of my neck as I was enjoying a wee. Having never experienced anything like it before, I tipped the guy a $1 then ran outta there. The following day I visited the war museum, which would probably be more accurately named the 'look how bad the Americans were' museum. Saying that it is a thoroughly professional experience and tends to make its points through statistics and pictures so it was undoubtedly truthful. Rather it just focuses all the shit the Americans did as opposed to looking at anything North Vietnam got up to. Myself, Alice and Guillaume finished our time in Saigon with something of a karaoke crescendo. At the lush, 'Milan karaoke' we crooned for 2 hours in a very extravagant settings. The western songs were a bit hit and miss. Some of the instrumental tracks were slower than in reality. But it meant we had a ready made excuse whenever we inadvertently mullared a song. Hoarse and hungover the following day I set off for the Mekong Delta.