Left our slightly upmarket $15 guesthouse, for another early start, making sure, this time to drink lots more (Water). Long, straight, flat road, hotter and hotter as the kms roll by. Goodbye Cambodia, we’ve learnt so much about your recent history, particularly from the biographical book by Loung Ung , First they killed my Father. A grisly time for the Khmer people.
Across the border without any trouble, miserable officials on both sides but, hey, at least this time, no charge. Didn’t take long to realise we’re now in Vietnam with the first motorcycles going back with 4 or 5 dogs crammed into a cage on the back – off to the BBQ.
Haven’t seen any other cyclists or other westerners, for that matter, for a long time. Need refuelling and choose the first place that with some tables and chairs indicates the possibility of food. Rice, uncooked veg and chicken “bits” in a curry sauce that had been sitting on the counter. Linda ate every scrap, Paul a little more hesitant. Surprisingly, both of us have felt fine, so far.
The approach to HCMC heralded by an onslaught of hooting scooters and mopeds. We squeezed in and out of the flow, avoiding the cars and buses turning in front of us. Reached down town to discover the hotel we had been recommended full. Outside met a Welsh/Australian cyclist who had lost his passport and was stuck in town for another 5 days. We now carry out passports everywhere.
Now for the sights of Saigon. Not a rickshaw in sight.