Faithful followers, forgive my silence. Baby Asus, my trusty gadget, was sulking yesterday, as she hadn't been charged, hence lack of blog. First world problems, eh? Fear not, there will be extra insights today to make up for it....
I was on a coach, with all of my Brownies, en route to I'm not sure where. I alighted from the coach, with two indeterminable Brownies, to purchase water, in Buckingham Palace Road. As we approached the coach, the driver put his foot down, and the coach sped off. I ran, with the two indeterminable Brownies, following the coach, all the way to Chislehurst - Summer Hil in fact, just by the station. Gary from Coronation Street turned up, driving a blue Fiesta; he asked if I needed any maintenance jobs doing. I declined, and he drove off.
I woke up, couldn't think where I was, and was extremely confused. Methinks this humidity does funny things to one's head. That and the anti-malarials I've started on. You can't get these without a prescription; unless you know people who know people in South East London.
But what really did happen, was this: I awoke to find that my room-mate had done a runner. Once I'd remembered where I was and realised that the whole Brownies / coach / Gary from Corrie thing, was a surreal dream, I honestly couldn't see any trace of Jo. I inwardly catastrophised, as those of you who share my personality-type will understand. 'She's got the train tickets'; 'what if she's been abducted?'.
I decided that the best course of action was to have a shower to clear my head. I showered, dressed and styled my hair, then went up to the 12th floor, where I found... Jo! She had not done a runner, or been abducted. She had, in fact, got up at the appointed time, and gone for breakfast. The fact is, I'm not really a morning person; or an afternoon person; in fact, am I really a person?
We breakfasted, then bundled into a taxi to Ho Chi Minh's Mausoleum. We inadvertently joined a tour group and were ushered through the group entrance, where we were obliged to surrender all our possessions and to join a line, manned by surly young guards, beautiful clad in spotless white suits, dripping with medals. The youth of the guards makes me think that they must have national service here. We saw them changing the guard, in true communist fashion, complete with bayonets and curious walks. We glided through the queue, then into the building, where there were guards every few feet. We saw Ho Chi Minh himself, just lying there. He wanted to be cremated, according to the guidebooks, but it wasn't to be. I have to say, he didn't look well, but then again, he was dead.
The humidity here is the most intense I have ever experienced; and it doesn't relent, even after dark. I have never drunk so much water in my life.
Crossing the road is an important part of life here. My advice to the traveller would be this - if you haven't got a decent travel insurance policy, don't even consider crossing the road; see how much you can achieve without crossing the road.
If you have a decent travel insurance policy, take these steps; look at what is coming; stroll into the road and keep strolling. No sudden movements; don't speed up; don't look anyone in the eye. It's a bit like shopping in Ikea.
We went pergoda hunting and were disappointed to find a stunted pergoda, of which the picture didn't do justice. It was part of a temple, which was closing about 5 minutes after we arrived.
On our way there, a tiny Vietnamese woman insisted that we pose for photos with her very heavy load - scales of pineapple and bananas. It was heavy and she was very small. It was fun, and she earned herself a dollar or two.
In the afternoon, we went to the puppet theatre to see the water puppets. Whilst I missed part of the proceedings due to falling asleep, what I did see was superb. It all dates back to northern Vietnam in the 11th century, when rice paddy fields were flooded and villagers would make entertainment by standing in the waist-deep water with the puppets performing over the water.
There followed a stupendous display of water puppetry, which involved 14 separate scenes with various people and animals. They glided through the waist deep water unerringly, weaving stories which were narrated in Vietnamese, so naturally, I understood every word. It was a superb display of unusual puppetry, run by 10 talented puppeteers who appeared at the end, waist-deep in water. The puppets had jumped, squirted water, interacted with each other, weaved in and out of each other; it really was extremely clever and a joy to watch.
We walked out of the theatre; Jo turned left. To my right, I heard a high-pitched voice squealing 'Helen, Helen!!' I was dumbstruck to bump into one of the 1st Chislehurst Guides, on holiday here with her family. Unbelievable, but in a good way. We are 5734 miles from London. It's a small, small world.
More tomorrow - stay with me.
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