Saigon

Sleeper bus from Hoi An to Na Trang.
The 'beds' in this bus were not flat. The first third of the bed slopes at an angle of forty five degrees over the end of the bed behind, and the remaining two thirds of the bed are flat. The beds are designed for small Vietnamese people to lie propped up in this position. Tall Westerners have to try to fit in somehow. My legs were a few inches too long, so I had to bend my feet to one side or the other, or bend my knees. A six foot man has to lie with his knees bent, or his feet sticking out into the corridoor. The bus driver had a foul temper and swore at everyone every time we got on the bus or off the bus. He let Vietnamese passengers on the bus all night. They lay in the corridoors, blocking them completely. He refused to stop for four hours to let the passengers get out to go to the toilet. In the end there was a massive protest and he had to stop - but in a wasteland full of rubbish with one flooded toilet. Some of us decided it would be better to squat down in the undergrowth, which we did. Sleep was broken repeatedly. Not a good way to travel.

Sleeper bus from Na Trang to Saigon
Same kind of bus with the same problems, except that it was the day time. The bus drove along a wide, flat valley, between gently sloping peaked mountains on either side. Brilliant green rice fields stretched from one side of the valley to the other for mile after mile after mile. The Vietnamese use irrigation, chemical fertiliser and pesticides to grow as many crops a year as they can. Groves of coconut palms and huge plantations of pineapples broke up the expanse of rice fields from time to time.

The bus drove like a dragon through the outskirts of Saigon, blasting traffic out of its way with its horn blaring constantly. We drove through an industrial wasteland for hours, past dirt, smoke and factories of every kind. Eventually the bus deposited us in a bus station somewhere in Saigon. No-one wanted to tell us which bus station it was and the taxi drivers were all running an overcharging mafia. We tried to find a bus that would take us to the centre but the bus wouldn't stop. Then a young Vietnamese man took pity on us, got us on the right bus and accompanied us to the centre, where he found out the way to the hotel we wanted to stay at and took us all the way to it.

The traffic in Saigon is even more hellish than in Hanoi, because the roads are wider and there is more of it. The only way across the road it to walk through the traffic, which travels much faster in Saigon. I have found a new travel companion - Diana, an intrepid German woman, who, like me, wants to go to the delta independently. I'm planning our escape from this hell-hole of a city as soon as possible.