It is such a good feeling when the natives try to majorly rip you off within the first few hours of being in a new country. Our bus pulled up on the side of a busy road rather than a bus station and instantly taxis were being offered to us from every direction. Asking the taxi driver to show us where we were on the map, he pointed off the page. The place we wanted to go, with the majority of backpacker accommodation, was central on the page. He claimed it would cost £20 to get there. No way. Sometimes you really have to trust your instinct, and I just knew this guy was lying. I skipped on over to a travel agent and asked them to please show where we were and how far from where we wanted to be - 'it's just around the corner, two minute walk'. My Reliable Gut Feeling - 1, Vietnamese Con Artist - 0.

After a horrible journey and almost getting ripped off, my first impression of Saigon was not a good one. But it wasn't the city's fault our Cambodian buses were falling apart and you can't judge a city of people on a few con artists. Many of my first impressions on this trip have been wrong - mainly of people, many of who have ended up as my closest friends on my travels, and the same can be said of the places you go. After a lazy day in the city searching for the best coffee shakes, we met up with Matt and Al who had left a day before us for Saigon, and who, we were secretly pleased to hear, had an equally rubbish bus journey there. And one thing made me open up to Saigon - Matt's enthusiasm for the place. He just absolutely loved it, and told us about all the interesting places they'd been with vigour - unlike us who had moped around the relatively small backpacker district, and only two streets of it at that. We finished the night with a introductory trip to Yoghurt Space courtesy of the guys: a frozen yoghurt place with an abundant array of flavours and toppings that I really couldn't get enough of. As I write this my mouth is watering.

The next morning we said farewell to Al, who is crazy enough to bike the whole of Vietnam on a motorbike he bought from a mechanic on the side of the road, as I understand it. With an open mind, the rest of us went to Chinatown, looked around the overflowing market and tried to find the pagoda by way of a dodgy drawing courtesy of Matt's artistic skills and some helpful bank staff. It was rumoured there was a white couple spotted whilst we were in Chinatown but I didn't see them, so as far as I'm concerned we were the only Westerners there.

We visited the excellent, albeit biased War Remnants museum, which takes you through the Vietnam War (or the American War as it is called in Vietnam) from the very beginning, post WWII through to the after-effects of today. It was a brilliantly informative though inevitably sad exhibition on an area of history we aren't really taught much about at home. I later bought a book on the war in order to learn more from a lady who drove a hard bargain, had very good English and played the card game s***head with us whilst we enjoyed one of my favourite beers yet, Saigon Green. Which for the record, cost approximately 30p each. Needless to say, at prices like that, Saigon really grew on me.

Saigon have some of best and cheapest pampering treatments I've come across so far, so once Matt set off the next day, us girls took advantage. I'll be honest, we flashpacked. And we really ended the day feeling like we were on holiday rather than backpacking; if you are ever in Saigon, go to the 23rd floor bar of the Sheraton hotel at sunset. The view is incredible and it is also conveniently happy hour at the time (the mojitos are quite incredible too). It's a good job Vicky was there to knock some sense into us else Lauren and I would have stayed there for another hour or two, knocking back the cocktails. I still have zero self control after a couple of mojitos, and I doubt that will ever change.

Dinner was at Pho 2000, famous simply for the fact that Bill Clinton dined there once upon a time. It's not the sort of place I would usually picture the most powerful man in the world - it looks more like a canteen than anything else. This was the meal time when it became evident how much we needed the boys around...simply to finish our meals for us. Too many left overs and no boys looking for a second or third meal. Somewhat inconveniently the restaurant was located next to the night market, something which we berated the boys for later after going on their recommendation - we all lost a bit of money there. It's also where my love affair with lacquerware started - deadly.

Lauren and I took a day trip to the Mekong Delta to check out the area. We took a boat down the river in traditional Vietnamese conical hats, which led to some unflattering but necessary photos, watched coconut candy being made and I freaked out momentarily when they just randomly whipped out this MASSIVE python from NOWHERE. Not a fan of that part, but otherwise an interesting day seeing how the people of the Mekong Delta live their lives, often in floating houses on the river.

The craziest part of Saigon was definitely the traffic. I have never seen anything like it, and I don't know if I ever will again. There's some stupidly accurate statistic for the number of motorbikes in Saigon (millions) and it really is something that needs to be seen to be believed.Those who have been to Vietnam will know exactly what I mean by this; you just can't acurately imagine it. They are EVERYWHERE. They zoom all over the road, beeping horns constantly and somehow never crashing into each other/any pedestrians/obstacles. They even drive on the pavement. Being a pedestrian in Vietnam is honestly terrifying. The best rule when crossing the road is to follow the locals' cue: walk slowly, with purpose and don't hesitate. I find screaming as you cross helps to relieve the tension, but do whatever works for you (Lauren's was shutting her eyes).