Same Jeans...

Same Pants too.

OK, strolling off the plane into HCM Airport the muggy humidity hits you square in the jaw. It's no worse than any other far eastern country but it's not exactly pleasant. Nor, for that matter, is getting all visa'd up. After already having applied for it weeks ago I got to fill out the forms again and I think I like filling out forms as much as I do sitting still for twelve hours. Gragh. That said, I think I suit the 'vague surprise' expression that I wear on my official papers, so that's fine. Some Vietnamese beaurocrats are in for a real treat if I get up to anything that requires my immediate deportation. I ended up being one of the first to the baggae carousel though, which made the waiting all the more fun. Once all the bags had rolled on and been claimed (even that one fugly bag that everyone ignores a few times before its owner sheepishly carts it off when he thinks you're not looking). Now, my Vietnamese ain't great (I'm pretty sure the language isn't even CALLED that) so trying to get my bag back in French was hi-freakin-larious. Luckily there was a chart and some pictures so it got done in the end. Also the form was in English as well, so I the official's attempt to foil me was futile. I think. Bagless and weary (like Mary and Joseph in a way...) I slouched out of the arrivals terminal to be met with a young lady (no idea what her name was, I was barely awake and it wasn't Hannah so...) and a taxi to my guest house.

My taxi ride. Wow. The cab was clean etc but the awesomeness was the fact that every other vehicle on the road was a scooter. OK, maybe not every but most. Feh. Oh, how they duck and weave. Oh how they ignore all known traffic laws. Oh how they smell. They duck in and out of each other, cut each other off and en masse they look like their drivers are psychic because I'll be damned if I know how they avoid crashing into each other and flipping out. The horns are a lot quieter than Azeri ones too, which is something of a boon. If you ever been to Baku (oh how I laugh) you'll know of the cacophony that greets you every time you come close to a road. What? Yes, it is all close to roads. Yes, the noise is a constant background hum. No, I didn't get used to it. I don't mind the scooters though. Not at all.

Um, the Guesthouse 'California' makes a token effort to seem American in ther lobby. Well, whatever comes below token. There's a bottle of Southern comfort and some Disey crap sat behind the counter. Oh, and Batman Forever commemorative glasses from McDonald's. I may be stealing these on the way home. Val Kilmer is an underappreciated Batman (Again, how I laugh). My room is clean and has two fans, the shower comes up to my nipples (bless these tiny folks. Did I mention that I saw a Vietnamese midget on the plane? He was the smallest adult I ever saw. Awesome. If only he was female, I'd have me a wife to bring home) and the bed is made of steel. Ok, maybe not steel. Maybe just harder than the soupy mattress I'm used to. I do get HBO Asia though, meaning I watched Casino Royale for the first time, subtitled and still two thirds of a good movie. WTF is it with that ending? Hey did I say ending?