My Last Pho and a Prayer for No Bombs Abroad: An 18-Hour Journey Home from Hanoi

Last night, I bid a tearful farewell to my last gin and tonic, and this morning, my final Grab taxi ride and a heart-wrenching last breakfast of pho noodles. All very sad, of course, but entirely inevitable, given the rather inconvenient fact that I only had two weeks on the clock.

Here I am, 7:45 AM Hanoi time (which is, if my bleary-eyed calculations are correct, about 1:45 AM in the UK, give or take a few yawns), ensconced in the departure lounge. I'm bracing myself for the grand 18-hour odyssey home. First stop: Abu Dhabi, where I'm sincerely hoping Donald Trump hasn't decided to redecorate Iran in the interim, ensuring a safe passage. Then it's on to Manchester, followed by a rather charming 3.5-hour hop from one station to another, eventually culminating in my triumphant arrival at Leeds City Station. From there, it's a quick taxi ride, straight into the waiting, undoubtedly eager, arms of my loving family.

So, what was Vietnam like for the "ardent traveler"? Well, this blog certainly won't be winning any Pulitzer prizes for in-depth cultural analysis, but for those of you who've never set foot here, or are merely contemplating it, allow me to put your mind utterly at rest: Don't even think about it. Just buy a plane ticket and get here. The rest, my friends, can be effortlessly arranged upon arrival. Seriously. The locals are practically tripping over themselves to help, and hotel bookings are a doddle. A three-star establishment, which you can snag for a mere £20-£30 a night (and which we'd probably label a Spanish five-star or an English four-star due to its sheer fabulousness), is impeccably clean. Even the "pens" – those student-doss-down sorts of places that basically consist of a bed adjacent to a toilet – are immaculate. I know this because a lovely Aussie bloke I met last night, who was practically a professional hostel-dweller, showed me photographic evidence. He'd managed to score private rooms in these "student block" hotels for a wallet-pleasing $12 a night. Not exactly ideal for a romantic couples' getaway, perhaps, but for a single bloke on a budget, it's pure gold. He estimated his entire monthly expenses in Vietnam, excluding flights, (accommodation, food, laundry, and local travel) to be around 600 Aussie dollars. For those playing along at home, that's roughly £300 or $500 US per month. Crazy money, I tell you. He'd traversed the entire length and breadth of the country, from Ho Chi Minh City all the way back up to Hanoi, often by overnight bus – a 12-hour trip for a paltry $12, where you actually get a bed. Imagine that!

Just had my breakfast, a glorious bowl of pho (pronounced "fuh," as in "far away," not "foe," unless you're feeling particularly dramatic), which set me back a princely 50,000 dong, or about £1.50. I've rather enjoyed it, largely because I'm a self-confessed soup fiend, and I think I've existed out here primarily on soup, juices, and fruit. I've dabbled in the odd Indian, but mostly, it's been a liquid diet. In fact, I weighed myself this morning before leaving my room. I arrived here a respectable 75.8 kg, and my scales this morning reported a delightful 74.9 kg. So, unless the scales are on the blink, I seem to have actually lost weight, never mind putting it on! But then, I have been doing my best GI Joe impression: zip-lining, tobogganing – anything and everything that screams "adrenaline junkie." At 73 years old, it's probably bloody crazy, but boy, have I enjoyed it. I'd come back here tomorrow. It's just so, so, so beautiful, immaculately clean, and immaculately safe.

Now, for a few "dos and don'ts," you may ask? When it comes to street food, throw caution to the wind! Don't let anyone discourage you. It's often *healthier* than restaurant fare, and here's why: as soon as the meat is bought, it's brought to the street and promptly eaten. In a restaurant, it might be languishing in a fridge for three or four days. So, feel free to eat off the street; I haven't had a single problem since I arrived. In fact, I've experienced the complete opposite of compensated!

Another tip: don't flash your wealth. It's not just insulting; it can turn an otherwise honest person into a crook. A £1,000 watch won't bother them, but a £20,000 Rolex might just turn their head. So, be normal, be courteous, and for goodness sake, be quiet. I haven't heard a single raised voice since I've been here. They have a fantastic philosophy: violence or aggression is an extreme form of weakness, so anyone who starts shouting and screaming is merely looked upon as having lost their argument. To save face, people simply don't do it.

I think I witnessed my first "accident" last night: a car gently nudging the back of a motorcycle. Other than that, I haven't seen a single road incident since I arrived, which, in itself, is utterly mind-blowing. You wouldn't believe it. I mean, Ho Chi Minh City boasts 10 million scooters, and I imagine Hanoi has an equal number, because everyone and their pet goldfish seems to own one, and they're all utterly mad. I dined out last night, as mentioned in a previous blog post, and my ride was a young girl, probably seven or eight years old, still dripping wet from who knows where. She cheerfully said, "Jump on the back!" I'm a rather large chap, you see, but she whisked me through the narrow streets and down back alleys, me precariously perched as a pillion passenger. It was horrifically dangerous, yet, at the same time, I felt utterly unconcerned. Even people emerging from doorways, whom she seemed poised to mow down, were merely scooped around without a single "dickie boo" or "What on earth are you doing?!" In Vietnam, it's like water meeting an object; it simply flows around it. If you stand in the middle of the road, they'll drive around you. The trick here is to stick your hand up in the air so they can see you, and just *keep walking* at the same pace. Don't bother trying to dodge them; let them dodge you. You can stride across the road with relative ease and comfort if you simply maintain a steady pace and a clear objective. It's that easy. Even cars do it! You can drive into oncoming traffic at a 45-degree angle, and they'll still miss you. I swear these people have magnets – opposing magnets – on the front and back of their scooters, so if one approaches another, the magnet simply pushes them out of the way. I truly believe that 90% of the drivers here would qualify for Formula One; their reaction times are so bloody quick.

But that, my friends, is part and parcel of the Vietnamese experience. Do experience the street walking. Don't be frightened about being pickpocketed or beaten up, because it simply doesn't happen. They warn you about it, but it's a myth. I've wandered through the busiest streets in Hanoi and Ho Chi Minh City, shoulder to shoulder with multitudes, and nobody has come anywhere near me. In fact, you're largely amongst your own kind anyway. There are a few Filipino gangs apparently lurking around Ho Chi Minh City and Da Nang, but the police are, shall we say, "tidying them up." More often than not, if someone approaches you, they're simply trying to sell you something that's probably not worth its weight in rice. I haven't heard of any pickpocketing or violence of any description. In fact, if there were any violence, the locals themselves would step in to help, because they have an absolute abhorrence for it here; they hate it.

Another "don't" is "don't bring too much cash." Your card works everywhere. You can pop into a "hole in the wall" (ATM) and get money out at a surprisingly good exchange rate. I've done a lot of purchasing here on my card, and a quick peek at my online banking shows I'm getting 35,850 dong to the pound, whereas the exchange bureaux are only offering 34,000. (Excuse me, I just sneezed then – not actually typing this, you understand, merely dictating. My little old "sausage fingers" simply aren't fast enough to keep up.)

Anyway, I'll be back again. I guarantee I'll be back again. When? I don't know, but I definitely will. The only thing putting me off is the flight. Eighteen hours is a marathon, not a sprint. A seven-hour hop to Abu Dhabi, then an 8.5 or nine-hour flight to Manchester, interspersed with a couple of hours waiting in Abu Dhabi and a few more hanging around here and there, and then your taxis. I think, from door-to-door, it was exactly 23.5 hours when I left home. We shall see what happens. I'm going to update this at a later date because at this moment in time, I'm utterly drained of deep thoughts.

Virtually no "don'ts" in Vietnam, it's all "dos." Just go ahead and do it. You'll love the country, you'll love the people. The flora and fauna are superb. And the food? Oh, the food has been truly delightful. If you're only interested in burgers, chicken, and chips, then I politely suggest you stay home. Over here, you'll feast on spring rolls, glorious pho soup, and all sorts of wonderful, spicy (but not burn-your-face-off spicy, unless you want it to be) dishes. They generally serve the chillies and garlic on the side. If you're not put off by my bowl of pho this month (I wanted to take a photograph of it, I don't know if you saw it), they serve it with a fresh platter of cut chillies, sliced ginger, and garlic. Add it if you dare; otherwise, it's wonderfully mild: noodles, bean sprouts, spring onions, sometimes a few slivers of carrots. But mostly, it's all about the broth. That heavenly broth can take 24 hours to create, simmering chicken bones with fish soup and spices. It truly is remarkably fresh-tasting and utterly lovely. I'm going to try to recreate it when I get home and bore the family with it because it's genuinely healthy.

Anyway, I'll check in later and see if I can't throw a few more photographs your way, but for the most part, my journey is complete. If anyone has any comments, please leave them. If you have any questions, please ask. Okay, so I've only been here two weeks, but I've packed a hell of a lot into that time. I've learned a hell of a lot, and if I can help anyone, even if it's just one of you, then that's one more person whose life I'll feel I've contributed something to. I think there are about 70 avid followers of this blog at the moment, with 350 visitors and something like 900 looks. I've noticed the algorithms are showing nearly 50 people shining in every day to read it. God knows what you think of me, but I'd truly love to hear your comments and thoughts now it's all over and done with. It might even spur me on to do another one. It's been a ride, it's been an experience, but most importantly of all, it's been a pleasure. I've really enjoyed doing the blog, and I've enjoyed Vietnam even more. Take care of yourselves, guys. Thank you.