A Difference in Service

Location: Pattaya, Thailand

NP: DJ Tiesto - Athena

Mood: Reverent

Being accustomed to non-existent or downright rude Finnish customer service, Asia seems like an amazing place. Manners are reflected in all parts of social behaviour, from greeting people to hospitality and service. We were fortunate enough to catch a glimpse of a rare occurrence in a restaurant in Phnom Penh, Cambodia.

Me, Mika and Tero were sitting in our usual haunt (for the late opening hours and the cheap beer, a jug for 6000 Riel = $1.5, not so much for the food), Skypark Restaurant in Phnom Penh, when we noticed that a local man had passed out in the booth next to ours. He had also puked on the seat and the floor. One of the staff noticed him.

Now, in Finland the following would happen: A meat-headed bouncer would appear, grab the unconscious fellow by his neck and through him out on the street, preferably face-first. It would not matter if it was in the middle of winter and it was freezing outside. All the better, probably! Serves him right, or som nahm nah, as they say in Thailand.

The service was quite different in Cambodia, or anywhere else in South East Asia for that matter. The waiter called a couple of staff members to help him and ever so gently they tried to wake the poor man up. When he was barely conscious, they helped him to the toilet to vomit some more - and mind you, the door to the toilet was open so we actually saw the waiter assisting the man, holding him up because his feet would not carry him and even patting him gently on the back while doing so. In the meanwhile the other waiters cleaned the booth and prepared a make-shift bed out of two other booths in a darker corner of the restaurant! You guessed it: After the toilet episode, they gently escorted the poor drinker to his new bed for a comfy nap where he still lay when we left the restaurant.

In Finland this would never have happened.

Unfortunately it's not all roses in Asia either, or then there's supposed to be a thick chest hair and unchewable meat in a dish of pork with green peppers in Pattaya, Thailand. And the waiter is supposed to charge us extra for two moist towelettes we did not use.

Or the night buses by Virak Buntham Express Travel company from Sihanoukville to Siem Reap in Cambodia are supposed to be undersized, so that you can't straighten your legs, and overcrowded, so that you'll have plenty of company, making sleeping quite difficult.

In general terms, however: Finland 0 - SE Asia 1.

Border Crossing

Location: Siem Reap, Cambodia

NP: Pariisin Kevät - Tämän kylän poikii

Mood: Indifferent

Border crossings are unfortunate necessities I'll probably never learn to be comfortable with. Then again, giving fingerprints, being questioned and filling arrival forms... Does anyone really enjoy those?

Just a few days ago we arrived from Cambodia to Thailand via the Poipet-Aranyapathet checkpoint. It was the most chaotic border checkpoint I'd ever seen.

Purchasing tickets for a minivan to the Cambodian border from Peter in Tropical Breeze Guesthouse (the bus company was Ratanak Angkor Express) for $17, our ride was actually a normal car being driven by a very long-nailed man, probably a Thai. Expecting a comfortable ride, we ended up picking two more passengers and thus space was again an issue. Thankfully Mika took the middle seat and suffered in silence. The driver didn't seem to speak any English at all.

Suddenly we stopped at a point where the road made a circle around a small pedestal. Where the hell were we? Before that we had stopped once or twice so that the driver and the male passenger in the front seat could run some errand. No one told us anything, but as the other passengers left the car, we figured we were in Poipet.


We were. The border was near, but the system at the checkpoint was anything but clear.

When in Poipet, head this way to the border (between buildings).

Immediately upon stepping out of the car, a guy came to talk to us, insisting he could get in touch with our bus company on the other side of the border and would like to change our tickets to stickers that would be good as tickets, he claimed. Having heard all kinds of tall stories on our travels, I didn't trust him. I showed him my ticket, but when he wanted to take it and give me a sticker instead, I refused and walked away.

"If you don't trust me, I can't help you. You're on your own", he said.

So we were. I had noticed a sign saying "Departures" on a building nearby, so I figured it was the way to go. It was a passport control point, but after I had qued and got to the official at the booth, he pointed at our blank departure cards that we would have to fill before he'd stamp our passports.

We occupied a small counter nearby and started filling the cards. A card for leaving a country? Bah! Pointless byrocracy.

As we were filling the cards another young guy came to talk to us. He said he could find our bus company for us on the other side of the border and guide us through the checkpoints. I was again suspicious. "What will it cost us?" I asked him. "Nothing. If you want to tip me afterwards, it's up to you."

I was still suspicious so he explained it to me again.

The border looked so chaotic with people coming and going everywhere and with no clear guidance on what to do or where to go. I decided to agree to his terms of help with no payment. He assisted a little with the departure card, though it wasn't necessary. Handing the card and my passport over to the official again, I received a stamp but no instructions on where to go next and got the feeling the man spoke no English at all. Also it was hard to hear anything through the small slot in the glass in all the ruckus.

With the help of our guide, we headed straight onwards from the left side of the passport checkpoint. There was a gap between the buildings with a path that was in no way guarded and vehicles and people were going to and fro.

Behind the gap between the buildings we found a wide area with small shops selling souvenirs and food. Our guide asked us if we wanted to buy anything or needed to go to a toilet. We didn't. He took us beside a casino and told a little about the local habit of gambling. I found out that he was from Cambodia, not from Thailand.

About 200 or 300 meters later down the road he instructed us to take the left side of the road to the next checkpoint. There were actually signs instructing to do just this there, which was relieving. I guessed we were now on the Thai border. We crossed the Friendship bridge on the left side to the checkpoint. Going through the metal gates really meant nothing, as there were no officials there to check anything, and they all lead to the same spot where our guide had walked to already.

Next up ahead was a building with the proper checkpoint. A crowd of people prevented all access inside, but our guide told us just to get through them because they were Thai and as non-Thais we needed to use ques 4 or 5, unlike them. He also told us to fill in arrival cards when we got inside and then go to the que. He'd wait for us on the other side of the building.

I pushed through the angry mob with a sword in hand like Moses through the Red Sea... Err, minus the anger and the sword, and Moses and the sea. Inside we filled in our arrival cards (Name: Mike, Sex: Male, Occupation: Assessor, Annual income: Low, Embarking from: Siem Reap, Disembarking at: Pattaya, Address at destination: Apex hotel, First time in Thailand: No, Visa number: -, etc.) which took us at least 15 minutes, and then qued at line 5. A tourist came to us and asked if he was supposed to have a departure stamp from Cambodia before queuing here and if he needed a visa for Cambodia when all he wanted to do was do a visa run. We didn't know, but I told him we'd gotten our stamp about 200 meters "that way". He went. From his looks and his accent I'd guess he was from New Zealand.

After another 10-15 minutes of queuing the immigration official asked a most difficult question and expected an explicit answer from me.

- Finland?
- Yes.

And after a fingerprint scan I was through. Nothing but my passport was inspected. A waste of time for the individual really.

Our guide waited for us outside the building and guided us about a hundred meters further. He asked for our bus tickets but I only wanted to show them to him, not give them away. We came up to a guy sitting by a desk just on the side of the road and our guide asked us to give him our tickets. So we did, though I got suspicious handing them over. It lead to no problems though, as together the two of them escorted us to a travel agency to arrange our ride onward to Pattaya. The woman there didn't speak a word to us, only to the two guys with our tickets. Quickly we heard that there'd been a minivan to Pattaya at 5 PM and it had just left 5 minutes ago. Oh great. But not to worry, "They are calling for it to come back", our guide told us as he sat down to rest with us.

And surprisingly just a few minutes later a minivan arrived to pick us up with just two passengers on board before us.

I paid our guide three US dollars and a couple hundred Cambodian Riel (only worth a few cents). He didn't look happy or sad, just wished us a good trip.

On the way the minivan picked up more passengers, but not so many that we'd have only one seat per person available. No, the whole back of the van was ours for the entire trip.

All the other passengers got off before we came to Pattaya. On the last stop the driver pulled up on the side of a large road, pointed to some guys nearby and said "Taxi".

I noticed a plastic locking system from my backpack had fallen off. We looked for it for a little while with the driver, but couldn't find it. Thanking the driver we headed for a direction along the road that we thought would be correct, estimating from where I thought the sea was. But I couldn't see the sea because it was already dark. There were hardly any roadsigns either, but at least there was a sidewalk for pedestrians usually.

We went to a 7-Eleven to ask for directions. "Where are we?" Mika blurted out to a female cashier. "We in Pattaya", she replied happily. They couldn't pinpoint our location on the map, but another customer gave us instructions to Walking Street...

Circling around Pattaya for an hour and asking for directions to Apex Hotel (it has a swimming pool!) at least four times ("Ahh, Apec", they replied. Some of the directions were wrong, as usual), we suddenly found the place. But it was too expensive for us these days. 650 Baht for a double room, since they had no twin rooms... We decided to head outside where I'd seen the sign for Ice Inn (which was always our second choice) right next to Apex Hotel's sign. It was a far better choice. Even though they had no single or twin rooms available, a double room cost 490 Baht and included air-con, free wifi, en suite bathroom with a hot shower, complimentary water, a fridge and a spacious room where I now sit, writing this.

Another change of scenery was behind us. Though it was nothing as bad as the night bus from Sihanoukville to Siem Reap, I was getting too old for them.

Two Faces of Siem Reap

Location: Siem Reap, Cambodia

NP: The XX - Intro

Mood: Pleased

A river separates the two sides of Siem Reap. The other a flamboyant, loud, tourist-infested and filled with bars and restaurants, and the other a quiet, dark and relatively serene (apart from the barking of dogs) place in the middle of locals.

You can guess which side appealed to us more.

The difference between them is almost like night and day. The separation is a boon, for one can enjoy the benefits of mass tourism (the services) when needed without the need to absorb all the bad side effects of it. The river ends the ruckus of the city center like a brick wall.

Riding bicycles along both banks of the river offered a nice glance of the city. Step away from the center and there's really very little else than residental areas, with a hotel and a temple thrown in here and there.

Our Siem Reap was a nice, quiet place made for resting and relaxation... had it not been for the noisy family (probably British) staying at Tropical Breeze Guesthouse, just like us, and the Finnish couple (Tero and Nina) who would again lure us down dark pathways for cheap beer and drinks...

On a different note, Peter the receptionist at Tropical Breeze Guesthouse seemed to me like the Cambodian version of Stephen Bonnell II (aka Destiny), for those few who might know the name.

I will miss Siem Reap.

My Name is Jones

Location: Siem Reap, Cambodia

NP: Infected Mushroom - Symphonatic

Mood: Impressed

Siem Reap - a town that stands as a testament to an age-old conflict with Thailand, previously known as Siam - resides near the number one tourist destination and sight in Cambodia. Angkor Wat and a plethora of old Khmer Empire's temples nearby easily offer even the most disinterested tourist hours of exploration.

We spent over ten hours at the temples.

Someone who takes a keener interest in history might even stay in the region for days just seeing the sights without a thorough study. For us, however, paying $20 for a single day's pass to the area and another $15 for the tuktuk driver's services, ten hours (from 5 AM to past 3 PM) of constant walking and wondering without food (by our own folly) was enough.

Still I can't quite shake the impression Angkor Wat by itself made on me.

We watched the famous temple at sunrise, which was not as spectacular as hyped. Yet the temple itself was a marvel to behold, and would've certainly left an even deeper impression without the flocks of tourists that spoil one's need for solitary exploration. Walls lined with bas reliefs depicting battles from ancient Indian tales, apsaras shaped on the walls and walls shaped in decorative patterns for a purpose unknown... Even the stone floor I stood on was in many parts decorated with odd shapes.

And then there was Bakan, the principal sanctuary of Angkor Wat's uppermost terrace... To reach it, you climbed steep stairs newly built on top of the old temple steps on one side. Inside one found a garden of stone built of pillars and slabs, open to the sky. Gazing out the window you could spy over all of Angkor Wat, all the way to the outer walls behind the long pathway of stone to the temple.

Leaving Angkor Wat behind our tuktuk driver took us to the gate of Angkor Thom, then to Bayon (from which we walked to about eight smaller temples, including Terrace of the Elephants and Terrace of the Leper King, and climbed up Phimeanakas). Bayon was an impressive structure with its giant faces and I liked it second best after Angkor Wat.

After Angkor Thom's temples we were already quite tired and ready to call it a day, but there was much more left to see. Chau Say Thevoda and Thommanom would be our next destinations, followed by Ta Keo temple-mountain, which was an interesting climbing experience not recommended for the elderly or careless people, as the stairs are very steep, partially broken and there are no hand-rails to hold on to. Good luck breaking your neck! But the view from the temple's top was decent.

The stairs of Ta Keo temple-mountain.

At Ta Prohm I just wanted to pass through it quickly, but I now regret my haste, as Ta Prohm was the perfect Indiana Jones experience - ancient ruins swallowed up by the jungle in its most visible form. Huge trees had penetrated the temple floor and thick roots ran through the broken stone pavement and partially collapsed buildings. It only lacked pit-fall traps and gigantic, rolling stones.

After Ta Prohm there was still Banteay Kdei and Sras Srang to explore... both of lesser importance, claimed my aching feet and exhausted head.

Angkor Archaeological Park offered by far the roughest yet most rewarding day of all on this trip. A large bottle of water does not for ten hours last - making me a sad individual just trying to survive in the heat at one point on the trip. Luckily, unlike the food, water and soft drinks were not always overpriced in the park.

The unfortunate thing is that the battery on my cell phone died already at Angkor Wat, and Mika's new camera shut down somewhere at the smaller temples.

So Mika bought a t-shirt with my money ($2.5) to remind him of the place.

I would've preferred a whip and a fedora.

The Beaches of Sihanoukville

Location: Sihanoukville, Cambodia

NP: Way Out West - Mindcircus

Mood: Laid back

Sihanoukville in southern Cambodia is the biggest port city of the country. For us it offered beaches a plenty, from vast stretches of white sand to easy-going bars by the sea.

We tried staying at Monkey Republic, which was Lonely Planet's pick on Serendipity Beach, but though the location would've been good, the bungalow ($10 per night for a twin bungalow) was far too grimy (the white pillows were dark grey with stains), smelly and hot without air-con. We managed to stay there for but a single night.

The pillow at Monkey Republic.

Changing to Sunday Guesthouse (which was much more of a hotel than the Sunday Guesthouse in Phnom Penh) brought all the necessary creature comforts: a working wifi, clean room (with but a few ants on my bed), hot shower and a view over a construction site. However, it was further away from the beach, on a shady side road. We received a twin room with one double bed and one single bed that cost $15 a night. Despite what was advertised, bicycles were not available at the hotel.

Smile Cambodia was a permanent stall-like restaurant by the golden lions circle. It offered easy smiles, inexpensive food of a decent quality, and quickly became our local favourite perhaps mostly due to the prices and the agreeable lady that seemed to cook there from dawn till night, from 7 AM to 11 PM.

Serendipity Beach was filled with bars and restaurants and a few souvenir and art shops. I bought three pieces of art at Makaplo Handicrafts and ate well each day.

Staring at the blue sea from a comfortable chair on the beach with a 50 cent draft beer in hand was as close to heaven as one is bound to reach anywhere. In the distance a bar was playing mellow beach music as the waves broke on the sandy shoreline.

It was my kind of beach, apart from the few pushy vendors that worked the crowd of Caucasian drinkers.

- Hello sir, bracelet?
- No, thank you.
- Why not?
- I don't want one.
- Then you can have two.

Otres Beach a few kilometers away was still quite undeveloped stretch of white sand, though there was a line of bars/restaurants and some guesthouses. It offered a nice bicycle ride from Serendipity Beach, with a chance to swim, though the beach was too shallow for far too long.

And there were more beaches still... but we chose not to explore it all. A visit to city center by bikes reminded us of the fact that despite the mostly quiet traffic and calm atmosphere, Sihanoukville is a fairly large city. Showers of rain stumped our bike ride to a meager, short adventure on the nearby streets.

Relaxed Sihanoukville reminded me of Cha-Am and the calm of its beaches. But what Cha-Am lacked in variety, Sihanoukville had and offered readily. And though still pretty dark at night, it did it in more light than Phnom Penh at least. Plenty of food, cheap drinks, easy shopping and irresistable beaches make it a superbly laid-back destination where I could see myself living for a time.

Perhaps for a long time.

Phnom Penh of Substance

Location: Phnom Penh, Cambodia

NP: Rollergirl - Superstar (Butterfly Remix)

Mood: Unorganized

Disrepair, occasional heavy traffic and ever-present darkness. Discontent about making it before the sun set. It was the essence of Phnom Penh.

When the sun set, stores and services closed their doors. Everything closed too early. Come on! This is the capital of a country! It is supposed to be the shining example to all other cities within the nation. Just like Helsinki was for Finland... Erhh, well there goes that argument.

The Russian market, or Psah Toul Tom Poung by it's proper name, offered claustrophobia and small stalls selling various fakes and souvenirs. Having nearly worn out my Binsin sneakers (there was just a small tear on the bottom and the inner heels were torn, plus there were a few holes on the fabric on top), I sought a replacement and found a pair of fake Timberland walking shoes that fit the bill on the second visit. The saleslady asked for 25 dollars for them, but my cunning and resilient haggling tore through the price tag like a hot knife through butter and we finished at 22 dollars and a complementary pair of socks. Splendid! It was a pleasant haggling experience, however.

We also found a few kramas (Cambodian multi-purpose scarves) at Russian market costing anything between 1 to 4 dollars, depending on size. Haggling was again required and the discount received was very little.

Having spent nine nights in Phnom Penh, we headed onwards to the southern port city of Sihanoukville where large stretches of beach awaited exploration. Six dollars bought six hours on the bus. Soon the streets of Phnom Penh faded away into snapshots from the windows of the bus and the bustle of the day silenced under the moan of the motor as our driver followed a thin trail of bumpy asphalt south. Always to the south...

"Hello sir, tuktuk?"

Location: Phnom Penh, Cambodia

NP: The 69 Eyes - Dance D'Amour

Mood: Placid

Phnom Penh was concrete and crowds and darkness. From the window of the bus I peered at the street names in this dimly lit city and found what I'd been looking for: We were driving on Monivong Boulevard, which is a big street running through the length of the city. The bus took a turn on Sihanouk Blvd and soon stopped. On the seat next to mine, Mika was snoring.

Immediately upon stepping out of the bus a flock of tuktuk drivers set upon us like birds of prey. They wanted too much, $4 for a short trip ($1 would've been a suitable price). We declined and opted to walk instead. One of them kept following us and told us the city was dangerous to walk in. I had told him we were going to Dragon Guesthouse and already had a booking, which we didn't really have. He told us we didn't know where we were going and he did...

The streets were numbered, so finding our way in Phnom Penh was very easy even though the streets were mostly dark. I had seen Monivong Blvd from the window of the bus so heading to the right direction right off the bat was also easy. The tuktuk driver wouldn't receive his pay from us tonight.

After a short walk we arrived at Dragon Guesthouse. Red towels, pink toilet paper and a room (double rooms cost $10) in disrepair didn't make me feel any closer to dragons (though pink toilet paper seems to be a thing in Cambodia) so we decided to change to another place after one night. Sunday Guesthouse just a few blocks away offered a sweeter deal ($10 for a twin room, so just $5 per guest) with accommodation in better shape, though the room was smaller.

The Genocide Museum of Tuol Sleng was a terrible sight to behold. A school converted into a torture center in the 1970s where men, women and children were kept in tiny brick cells, interrogated and tortured until they they confessed to crimes they didn't commit. Now it's a museum that houses photos of the victims (mugshots) and of their tortured, broken bodies. There is also a collection of skulls and bones to finish off the eerie feeling of the place. A very expressive sight, unlike the Killing Fields of Choeung Ek which was far too touristy.

We met a Finnish couple from Hyvinkää at Sunday Guesthouse. Such a shock to hear Finnish spoken by others all of a sudden! Tero and Nina turned out to be such fun company that soon we found ourselves having rom with them at a French bar and going to Heart of Darkness for a mixture of beer and Aikido... but I can hardly remember what happened next.

Suffice to say Phnom Penh kept us entertained for several days. The worst part was probably the early closing times and the darkness of the city. The best parts - cheap beer and the compact size of the center which enabled walking as a form of transport.

Doing that, you could never escape the often repeated shouts of "Hello sir, tuktuk?" though.

"These Asian Girls, Man..."

Location: Phnom Penh, Cambodia

NP: Bad Boys Blue - You're a Woman

Mood: Relaxed

"These Asian girls, man... They're so hot!" said a random tourist we met at a convenience store in Ho Chi Minh City. He was feeling the heat, desperately trying to figure out how to hide the huge amount of money he had just taken from an ATM, and was asking us for advice. We laughed, he swore, and promptly headed back into the busy night of Saigon, bound to lose his money to booze and pickpockets.

But he was right. Thorough empirical research claimed that in the West there were one or two kittens in a dozen. In Thailand there were four, in Malaysia only three, in Vietnam five, and also five in Cambodia.

These are matters of opinion, of course.

But I'd heard it claimed by an Australian already in Bangkok. And repeated in Saigon. Then I'd also seen a Thai man in Hat Yai drool at western bikini models.

Perhaps there was truth to the saying I'd heard once from a Vietnamese lady: "Men fall for beauty, women fall for words."

In the dark nights of Phnom Penh we'd only fallen for a jug of Angkor beer for 6000 Riel ($1,5) and the travelling days still ahead.

The Deep Dark of Cambodia

Location: Phnom Penh, Cambodia

NP: Ozzy Osbourne - Killer of Giants

Mood: Perceptive

After considering sailing up the Mekong River like Captain Willard we finally opted for the bus and a short ferry crossing because it was only a fifth of the price (HCMC to Phnom Penh by bus = $10) of the boat and took less than half of the time (6 hours). We booked the trip for the first time using a travel agent just downstairs from our hotel reception in Ho Chi Minh City.

The bus came to pick us up at the hotel. Our bus company was called Kumho Samco Buslines. They seemed pretty reliable and the guy in the bus asked every passenger if we wanted them to take care of the visas at the Cambodian border for us. Their price was $25, which is $5 more than the visa itself costs... if you can get past corrupted officials for that price, that is. So we agreed, handed them our passports and dollars, and let them take care of the visas.

We crossed the Vietnam - Cambodia border via Moc Bai and Bavet.

On the border there were no hassles, apart from a lost passport of a girl from Darby, England, who was seated next to us on the back of the bus. Her passport was left (by the bus company) at the Vietnamese checkpoint, but the bus company guy went and found it for her within a few minutes. I was glad, because her English sounded lovely after listening to several broken accents at this beautiful language, though we only exchanged a few words.

Kumho Samco Buslines' service was very good. When compared with the Starmart buses we used to get from Malacca to Singapore, there was a vast difference in service. This time we could've even stayed in the bus and let the company handle all the border byrocracy, though that must be dependent on the countries and officials involved. The bus itself was worse than Starmart's luxury coach with massaging seats.

We stopped near the border at a restaurant where I didn't know how to order food. The toilets were Asian.

The road to Phnom Penh was dark. There seemed to be almost no lights in Cambodia, apart from those in private homes or stores that were still open after dark, until suddenly we hit a field that was sprinkled with strange, blue lights about a meter above the ground. It was a bizarre sight in the middle of a black landscape.

The ferry at night. Clear image.

A ferry took us across a river. Soon in the distance loomed a dimly lit set of houses that they called Phnom Penh.

Peanuts Protect You from Ghosts

Location: Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam

NP: HIM - When Love and Death Embrace

Mood: Perplexed

Today I leave Saigon for Phnom Penh in Cambodia, so it's time to look back at some of the events that took place in this chaotic city.

The first thing that springs to mind are the people I've met here, most surprising of them being Ky from the reception of Mai Phai Hotel. One night he offered a meal he'd ordered (balut!) to us and Mika hungrily wolfed down the underdeveloped chicken embryo and egg saying it tasted good (like an egg) as I watched in awe. That was the one meal I really wanted him to try, and now it was done, just like that, without requiring any manipulation on my part.

Balut tastes so good!

The next day I brought Ky that bottle of Sangsom that had caused us trouble at the Singaporean border where we'd had to open it. It was a minor gift in terms of value, but it was still something from another country - Thailand in this case. Ky asked if it was safe to drink as is or with ice... Yes, but it's 40% alcohol!

Later he took us to the Reunification Palace, the city zoo, Notre Dame Cathedral and the French-built Post Office. He and Mika went off to Monkey Island as well on another day, as I battled an upset stomach at the hotel. He was of great help during our stay in Vietnam and deserves a big thank you for his time and patience. And maybe a few pretty girls as well.

Kim the Korean was another traveller I met in the lobby of Mai Phai Hotel. It was actually great talking to another traveller who'd been having similar experiences of Vietnam. He was also interested in my earlier trip to South Korea and asked what I thought of Busan.

"Well... I really liked Japan..."

Me in Kyoto, Japan, in 2010.

He hadn't visited Japan, which I thought surprising, seeing how much he seemed to like travelling. Except in Vietnam where he'd just been cheated at a massage parlour (he'd paid 120 000 Dong for a massage, but was asked for 200 000 more after that as a tip before said massage).

Ky at the reception offered us some peanuts. "In Korea they say eating peanuts protects you from ghosts", Kim said as he munched on one.

On our first evening in Vietnam we met a group of Norwegians in a restaurant who said the worst thing you can do here is pay with dollars. Always use Dong. So we did. "Snackar du svenska?" one of them asked loudly. "Yeah, but I prefer not to."

Watching a UEFA 2012 football game (Spain vs. France) in Sports Bar we overheard a group of drunken French louts calling their Vietnamese waitress stupid to her face because she was charging them the wrong amount for drinks. They demanded another waiter. Such directly rude behaviour of course came from the westerners, not the locals. Them being French, for that matter, seemed only fitting. And Spain proceeded to trounce the louts' team 2-0.

So what else is there to say about HCMC apart from the people I met? We got to try some crocodile meat at Din Ky's... which is not much. To be honest, I didn't really like the city. Granted, it's a big city and hanging mostly in District 1 I might've seen the worst of it. To me it was chaotic, too crowded and too noisy. It was too much in your face. You had to be alert at all times and relaxing was difficult, even inside the hotel, because my travelling companion was going peanuts. Eating was not private, the food wasn't particularly tasty and it seemed to rain every day. Hell, even Facebook was banned in Vietnam.

Well, at least the beer was cheap.

The Sounds of Traffic Never Cease

Location: Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam

NP: Swallow the Sun - New Moon

Mood: Uneasy

Saigon. Shit, I'm still only in Saigon.

The largest city in Vietnam, Ho Chi Minh City (formerly Saigon) seems like a polluted, aggressive giant on wheels. Hordes of motorcycles rule the streetview in a city that hardly ever seems to sleep, despite the official closing hour at midnight. Cars, buses and even a few bicycles swim amidst the clamor, in the constant stream of motorcycles and mopeds.

The sounds of traffic never cease and the narrow sidewalks are partially blocked by stalls, parked vehicles and trees. As a pedestrian you have to be constantly alert. Crossing the street here is more dangerous than in any city I've ever visited.

The vendors of HCMC are unbelievably aggressive in their marketing methods. Standing by the entrance of a marketplace today invited a shoeshiner to almost forcibly start shining my shoes, despite a firm "no", and I had to walk away to escape his twitching brushings. One even asked to shine my friend's plastic sandals.

Eating outside at a restaurant invited nearly 20 walking vendors to introduce their products to us during the 40 minutes we spent there. Some of them don't believe the first "no" and insist on showing their wares regardless. What seemed to work was turning your head away once the wares were being shown.

"You need boomboom?" a small woman asked my friend suddenly as we were ringing the bell by the metallic gate to get in to the hotel at night.

Where did she come from? Gosh I didn't even see her.

"You want lady?" another one said as she appeared from the dark to stand beside me.

Prostitutes walk the streets at night and follow you on mopeds despite declining their services. It might be frightening if it wasn't so amusing. And it happens every night when you venture out onto the darkened streets from the comfortable shelter of the Mai Phai hotel we're staying at.

After serene Malacca and calm Singapore, it all seems a little too much to bear.