Billy Joel wrote a song in the early eighties called Goodnight Saigon about the Vietnam War. As you can imagine with the subject matter it wasn’t a chart-topping toe-tapper but he must have been on the right track because this was the time he was bedding the world’s top supermodels as often as I brush my teeth. Now, I don’t think this account of my visit to the War Remnants Museum will follow the same trajectory but here’s hoping? And for the record I brush my teeth twice daily (as well as daily flossing).
Just to illustrate that this is about more a record of mediocre nutrition and bad spelling, I will start on this sombre note. The War Remnants Museum was well worth a visit and highlighted how shockingly little I knew about the Vietnam War, as well as the many bloody conflicts prior. Each display walked the fine line between, “these were the good guys and these were the bad ones”, rather it questioned are these conflicts really necessary as well as highlighting the unintended casualties of the whole situation (on both sides). Outside the Museum there was a unparalleled assortment of US Forces’ equipment that you can get up close and personal with. Tanks, gun turrets, flamethrowers.
Not that any of these items are for sale to the public, but if you are a war buff, there is apparently a war market (I imagine in the same manner as the food markets) where instead of buying a plate of noodles and some pastries you can buy some old Zippo lighters and uniforms issued by the US Government during the Vietnam War (which is referred to as the “American War” throughout Vietnam).
Random Musings/Photos/Captions
Here’s a list of odds and ends that all occurred during the four nights in Ho Chi Minh City before I went north:
Rather than taxi to the airport I took the local bus. The airport is located approximately ten kilometres from the centre of town, however travellers are warned to allow close to an hour for the commute. I thought this due to the congestion in the city. While some of the blame can be laid there, we did spend ten minutes on the bus as the driver decided to stop off and pick up his lunch halfway through the journey. One of those instances where you file it under “local customs?” I don’t know he had in his various little plastic bags, but when the smell hit my nostrils in the back of the bus I was jealous whatever it was slipped under my radar. We did make it to the airport on time.
People are asking, “Where are the food pictures?”. Keep reading …
A few days behind but don’t fret. For my tardiness except my sincerest apologies. If that grovelling didn’t work how about a shot of some puppies in a basket?
