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Coming up to the end of first week on this trip and I can’t believe how fast it’s going.

Today a guide is taking us round ago Ho Chi Minh City – his name is Kevin.

From the hotel we drive out to district 1, passing the US embassy on the way.  Here a long queue snakes along the front wall.  The queue consists of locals looking to apply for a US visa.  I wonder if any of them are thinking twice after yesterday’s election result?

The bus takes to a market stall at the side of a busy road.  Here a number of weathered street sellers, man stalls selling fish, fruit and  crickets.  I bought a dragon fruit for the banter, but no idea how or when I’m going to eat it. 

Behind the markets is a yellow gate which marks the entrance to a Buddhist temple.  

It’s the Mausoleum of Le Van Duyet, a local king who once defeated the Chinese before his people killed him.

Like we found at Ninh Binh, this is a triple gate.  Why’s that – because when it comes to temples, three is the magic number.  I ask Kevin how old the gate is, but he doesn’t understand what I am saying.  He repeats “how old” in a strong Northern Irish accent.  Eventually I get the answer that it was built in the 1830s.

The temple itself is a fine work of art – blue mosaic tiles cover the roof.  The Spanish would call this trencadis, but we’re not in Spain.

On the temple wall, is a 3D mosaic of a unicorn.  It’s the eyes that get me, the poor think looks mentally deranged.  I’m sure there’s a reason for the google eyes.

It’s shoes off at the door before we can enter.  Just like being back at home!  Inside is incredibly ornate, and decked out in red and gold.  The colours signifying power and luck per Chinese culture.

A monk decked out in baby blue pyjamas bangs a gong while a lady prays with an incense stick burning in her hand.  The purpose of this is to alert the gods of her prayer.

There’s oodles of symbolism – there are two bird statues. They’re cranes which are believed to carry spirits to heaven post death.  I call them Samson and Goliath.

There’s also a stuffed tiger, but tigers aren’t indigenous to the surrounding area any more.  They’re mostly in China.

Heading more central by bus, I get the opportunity to talk with Kevin about Ho Chi Minh City.  Do locals still call the place Saigon?  Is there any controversy surrounding the name change?  The answers are yes and no.  People here don’t care what the place is called.  They’ll go by either.  

Kevin also tells us that crocodiles used to be everywhere in Saigon – particularly down by the river.  I guess urbanisation has driven them out, but who knows, we might come across one!  😬 

The weather today is very hot, probably the hottest we’ve had on this whole trip so far.  It’s 31 degrees, but feels like 39 degrees with the humidity.

We walk through an area known as book street, lined with bookstalls and publishing houses.  There are nice vibes, and it gives the city a touch of class.

Eventually we come to a stall selling sugarcane juice.  The sugarcane looks like bamboo shoots, and a machine presses them, squeezing juice into a plastic cup.  

A dash of kumquat is mixed in for added flavour.  The drink is incredibly refreshing, like lemonade but far sweeter and a lot less bitter.

We walk past Notre Dame Cathedral (no, not that one, but does look like it, not that we’d know as the whole thing was clad in scaffolding).  They’ve been restoring this place for over 5 years.  Covid came along and the money dried up, and now it’s perpetually scaffolded – what a shame.

Both this, and the adjacent Central Post Office were built during French Colonisation in the late 19th century.  

Inside the Post Office, my eyes are immediately drawn to the huge portrait of Ho Chi Minh on the back wall.  The post office is a hive of activity, but mostly tourists browsing souvenir stalls which now take up some of the former post desks.  There are still a few remaining, so this is still a post office.

On the left and right by the front door are 8 wooden boxes.  They resemble confessionals, but are actually old phone booths.  These aren’t still functional – who needs a phone booth in this day & age.

On these are multiple clocks showing times around the world:  London, Paris, Canberra, California & Washington.  Incidentally time on the two US clocks have both stopped – with Trump now president again, is this some form of ironic foreshadowing?

The walking tour continues past the Opera & City Hall buildings to the Park Hyatt Hotel.  It was here that the author of Good Mornjng Vietnam was living as a journalist covering the War.  Many of the things he saw made it into the final film, which rather disappointingly was filmed in Thailand.

After lunch, it’s a short drive to a house on Nguyen Dinh Chieu Street, which was used by South Vietnamese freedom fighters.  A hatch in the chequered floor opens to reveal a section of tunnel, once used for storing weapons.

We drive next through Chinatown, which is far more expansive than Japantown that we came across last night.  The bus stops and we start walking past (medical) drug shops.  

There’s something for every condition under the sun, but I believe Chinese medicines have been largely discredited.  

We arrive at the Thien Hau Temple, which our guide tells us is Danish, and my own notes tell me is Mazuist.  I’m not sure what the difference is.

This temple is dedicated to Thien Hau Thanh Mau, born 1044 in China.  She was known for observing the stars and predicting the weather.  Let’s call her Barra Best.  

On one such occasion, she sensed her brothers and father were in trouble at sea.  According to the internet, her spirit reached out to save them, and managed to reach her brothers but not her father who was swept away.  

This place has a pretty similar feel to the other temples we’ve visited. There’s a lingering smell and smoke from the many burning incense sticks.  It’s not good for the eyes.

We’re being exposed to a sad materialism.  People come to pray to the god of money to become richer.  Our guide tells us money is everything, and we debate whether money truly brings happiness.  In this culture money is everything, and all I can see is an undertone of greed.

The final stop in today’s tour is the Ben Thanh Market.  Here money definitely is driving force.  It’s an unpleasant experience on several counts – space, temperature, noise, people and smell.  There’s a scent of vomit hanging in the air, around the fruit stalls. That’s probably the infamous Durian fruit, which I’m hoping to try later on the trip in Thailand.  Theres no cheese here unfortunately, cheese (and dairy) isn’t really a thing in Asian culture.

I buy a few teeshirts, and haggle to get the price down a little, but we’re negotiating with seasoned experts.  They’ll pull every trick in the book.  I couldn’t get out of the place fast enough.

In front of the market, a film crew has set up in the car park.  There’s enough wooden acting here to make Hope Street look like an Oscar winning production.  

As the sun is setting, I want to head down to the riverside, hoping the skyline & golden light will make a nice photograph.

I’m intrigued by the Bitexco Financial Tower.  It looks just like Unit HQ from Doctor Who with the protruding Helipad at the top.  Some call it the CD rack, except someone’s jammed a tambourine in.

This was the tallest building in Vietnam… for 4 months during construction, and is now the fourth tallest.  Its shape is said to resemble a lotus bud, reaching up to the sky to represent a growing Vietnam.  As far as skyscrapers go, this one is pretty iconic!

Across the river, a few men and women are fishing, but we don’t see any fish.  

As the sun sets beneath the skyscrapers and the evening draws on, we walk to Bui Vien Street and the TikTok famous Cafe Apartments.  This is basically like a real life restaurant vending machine.  You pick what you want from ground level then try and find it.

With mum feeling a bit hangry, we picked Downtown steakhouse on the first floor.  I went for a steak sandwich (sorry not very traditional tonight) and watched the world go by from the terrace.

After this, we hopped in a taxi for a 3km trip out to Crescent Lake Park.  It’s shaped like a croissant, with a bridge at one end.  The promenade is lit by little lamps, and across the lake, the reflections blend in the ripples of the water.

The bridge is known as Starlight Bridge, and it’s like walking through the stars.  An LED strip adds some colour to the side of the bridge. 

Looking for a coffee shop, we passed a man with his top pulled up, stood rubbing his belly.  Do you think he might be pregnant?  These days it wouldn’t surprise me 😂 

We had difficulty finding a taxi to get to the hotel, but eventually did make it back to bed and ready to do it all again tomorrow.