Friday, November 10.

First, a comment about Ho Chi Minh Traffic. Though similar to traffic throughout SE Asia, HCMC raises the thrills up a notch. In a city of 11 million, there are an estimated 9 million motorbikes. For only the second time did I hear that street lines and traffic lights are treated as entertainment, vice rules or recommendations. My view is that everyone, including pedestrians, are expected to be attentive and predictable. Emphasis on predictable. In America, on a motorcycle, we’re taught to expect cars to be unpredictable (with good reason). A good example of predictability is when pedestrians cross the street. If you begin crossing at 2MPH, you should maintain just that speed, regardless of the situation. Motorbikes may avoid you by slowing down (unlikely), speeding up (possibly) or swerving (very likely). Changing walking speed screws up their swerve calculations. (One other thing to do is ignore horns. I never could tell if the horns were warnings or just a “how-do-you-do” to a friend.)

We visited the Independence Palace, residence of South Vietnam’s President back in the day. Also visited its underground bunker. What I noted was the lack of electrical outlets. Hard to imagine a time in my life when nothing needed to be plugged in. The official rooms are essentially unchanged from 1975 when it was taken over by the North. Very ornate. We also stopped by “Book” Street, the Cathedral (closed for renovation) and the Central Post Office, which looked like a train station. We also saw the site of the famous “Civilians climbing into a helicopter” scene, which actually was the roof of the CIA building at the time. Now it’s a slum apartment building.

We then visited a secret Viet Cong ammunition storage cellar. Very well hidden.

After lunch we were let off at one of the markets, walking distance from the hotel. Unremarkable. Hawkers here have no hesitancy in blocking your way with a shirt or shoes. Multiple offers to shine my sneakers. A “No” has to be given with feeling.

After a siesta I stopped at a rooftop bar and ran into three fellow travelers. They choose to follow me to the Irish bar. Thankfully, they enjoyed the food, despite a slight smell of tobacco. Others went on an optional motorbike food expedition. They all had a lot of fun. I was uninterested in riding on the back of a bike.