I travelled from Phnom Penh into Vietnam by boat, on which I met three crazy Swedes (Goran, David and Kurt), a prostitute-obsessed Singaporean, and a quiet German guy amongst others. Meeting these Swedish guys was definitely one of the highlights of my time in Vietnam, and I had a great laugh travelling with them until we parted company in Hue.


Saigon via Chau Doc (19-22 March)


The boat from Cambodia disembarks at Chau Doc, a dusty town that obviously doesn't receive too many foreigners but is popular with cross-border smugglers. We arrived in the mid-afternoon, in time to see all of the local women riding home from work and school in their white silk pajamas and conical hats, and I got some great photos – although unfortunately I had my camera stolen (in Nha Trang) before I could upload them... I shared my room for the night with the German, who still didn't have much to say, but seemed nice enough...


The following morning we travelled by bus (with a boat trip to a riverside market along the way) to Saigon, where we met a Kiwi girl who joined our merry band as we hit the bars and clubs of the city. I noticed that the German guy wasn't so quiet anymore – not that he was saying much to us, but he jealously guarded his new β€œgirl” over the following couple of days... The nightlife in Saigon is pretty lively (a lot more so than the other cities I visited in Vietnam) – although, as with Bangkok, most of the local women in the English-named bars are short-time girls. We went to one corner bar, and played the locals at pool for a $5 bet a game while we drank. By closing time, I think we were the only people in the bar who weren't either prostitutes or staff; it was quite bizarre – and probably a little uncomfortable for the three women in our group!


The following day we joined a tour to the Cu Chi tunnels, which were elaborate underground tunnel complexes used by the Viet Cong during the war. Our German companion – who we realised by now was a bit strange – chose this opportunity to reveal himself as a complete mentalist, as he started a violent argument with the tour guide over the $7 admission fee that he thought was included in the $3 price of the bus trip! Unfortunately he didn't seem to be showing any desire to part company with us, and I still found myself sharing a room with the guy... The tunnels themselves are well worth a visit. The highlight is the section of tunnel they let you crawl through; it's dark, humid and a little terrifying if you think too much about where you are and what's all around you (hoping your visit doesn't coincide with an earthquake!) - it's amazing to think that whole groups of people lived down here without going crazy.


We returned to the same bar that night, since Goran was on a winning streak at pool. We found out that the German was a pyromaniac as well as a general freak, as he borrowed and broke everyone's lighters making fireballs to impress his lady... as you do... As Goran commented: he was probably voted β€œmost likely to dismember a corpse” in his high-school yearbook. As our Kiwi friend said her farewells, she made the mistake of telling the whole group that she was heading to Mui Ne the following day. Wouldn't you know it: within a couple of hours the German guy is telling us he's also headed to Mui Ne the next day... although we still had to cope with his weirdness for the rest of the night, which included his attempt to buy the affections of one of the working girls by approaching her with a wad of cash held in front of him like an Olympic torch. As our knowledgeable Singaporean friend informed us, this is one of the few ways you can insult a prostitute; effectively letting her know that you know she's a prostitute. As it was, she took his money, and left without him!


While we were relieved that we were losing him, we were a bit worried about his intended stalking victim, so David texted her a warning. Thankfully, she made it out of Mui Ne alive and without sighting him...


Nha Trang (22-25 March)


We caught the train from Saigon to Nha Trang, looking forward to some cheap scuba action. We arrived at night, and were talked into one of the hotels one road back from the beach with a discount that mysteriously disappeared once we'd arrived and carried our bags upstairs. Feeling indignant about being lied to for the sake of a few dollars, we made as much of a fuss as we could while leaving and found other digs (more expensive but honestly quoted – see how principled we are!) elsewhere for the night.


It all worked out for the best, because the next day we found another great hotel nearby run by a friendly family – they even took us out to lunch one day! As with Ko Tao, Nha Trang is a great place to go for cheap diving, and the variety of coral and animal life is probably better. We went with a French-run operator ( http://nhatrang.online.fr/sections.php?op=viewarticle&artid=49" rel="nofollow">Coral Reef Diving Center ), that had great food on board the boat for lunch and crepes waiting for you when you return after your dive – a nice touch.


We hired mopeds, although I crashed mine before I'd even got out of the car park (they showed me how to change gears and accelerate, but not how to break!), so I had to settle for being a pillion passenger. Be careful, though; one of the mopeds we hired suspiciously broke down within minutes of taking them out; we suspect that they deliberately unscrew or remove something in order to cause a breakdown, such that you lose the deposit (or have to pay them for the repairs). Thankfully, a local mechanic fixed it in seconds without charge, but then another moped ran out of gas; make sure you don't get ripped off by the roadside petrol ladies, who will initially try to charge you 10 times the going rate by β€œmistake”...


The last night in town, with no diving ahead, we had a drunken night of karaoke, dancing and ah... drinking. It was Goren's daughter's birthday back in Sweden, so we all sang happy birthday to her into his mobile – which unfortunately was stolen later in the night, along with all of his holiday photos that were on it. A good reason to make sure you regularly upload/email your photos while travelling. Not that I could be smug; I realised the next morning that I'd also had my camera stolen the same night. A good reason not to be too greedy with the potent-but-cheap cocktails they sell at the nightclubs! (Embarrassingly, I'd also spent almost an hour standing outside my hotel after midnight trying to work out how I was going to get through the security fence and inside, before realising that I was standing about 2 metres from an open gate...) Since I didn't have item insurance for it, the excess made it pointless to claim on. Thankfully I didn't lose too many photos; mostly the photos from Chau Doc I mentioned previously, and a couple of movies of the Swedes doing their best English karaoke. And I still had my main camera...