Because we didn't want a mad rush getting away from Italy, we decided to stay the night in Fiumicino - near the airport. That suited Beth too, as she had to fly to London to join her Contiki tour. After the usual research we found a place called the Hotel Seccy, and worked out that the simplest and most economical way to get there was to fly from Verona - despite our earlier searches.

We were all up in plenty of time for the final round'em up and move'em out. We dined on whatever we had left in the fridge and humped our luggage down the four flights of stairs (lift still broken!) and across the 150 metres of Piazza Bra to the taxi stand. (What a location!). We were at Verona airport about 25 minutes after stepping out of the lobby, and checked in pretty quickly, so settled down to a farewell coffee - or at least Anne and I did. Poor Beth, the real coffee fiend is finding it impossible to get soy milk with coffee in cafes in Italy!

The flight to Rome was uneventful and our transfer was waiting for us as promised. We were warmly greeted at the hotel, and settled quickly in our room. While the hotel is certainly not worth the four stars it gives itself, it is a very clean and friendly place and a very solid 3. A room there cost only 5 euro less than the flat in Verona!

After a bit of unpacking we went for a walk around Fiumicino (the suburb, not the airport) to find some lunch. The impression it created was not helped by the grey weather and gathering clouds. After a pretty big circuit we settled on a tavola calda which was actually quite good, and like most new things in our travels, once you understand the system, it is quite sensible. We just ordered a couple of plates each - which came as rather large serves of whatever - pasta, potatoes, zucchini. When we shared, it was quite a nutritious meal. Then we spotted the "tris" plates - with three sections that allowed you to have smaller serves of each item and build your own mix.

Back to the hotel for a bit of down time, then off for a walk - just in time for the rain to come down and complete the elements of the image of Fiumicino as a rather dowdy seaside place in the off season that may have seen better days. Still, it is fascinating to see the string of rather cheap looking private beach "clubs", all painted in garish colours, looking like overly made up elderly dames who were trying too hard.

We had a break at a cafe near the hotel which was like a shrine to the film idols of the 50s and 60s - American film idols that is. Back to the hotel to manage to set up the TV to give us the English audio for the Simpsons (which are just too much in Italian!). We managed to put a dent in the second of our bottles of Zyme wine, a Valpolicella classico, before tea at the pizza place next door. Like many of Fiumicino's restaurants it specialises in sea food, but their pizzas with a very thin crust were all we needed before hitting the sack.

The real adventures were waiting for us just around the corner - on the 5th!

A good breakfast in the hotel, in time for Anne and I to check out at 9. Beth's flight wasn't until the evening but they gave her a later check out. (So we had to say a sad goodbye to Beth.) Our transfer was on time, and we left Europe as we arrived - in a Merc!

As always - and thank God - we were very early to check in. As we approached the check in counter we were able to walk right up to it without queuing. Yes - it was too good to be true.

As the Cathay official was checking our pre-approval for our Vietnam Visa, she noticed that Anne's DOB on the letter we had been sent did not agree with her passport. She checked with her supervisor, who escalated it further. We had to take our bags back like a pair of rejected suitors and go over to the Cathay customer service desk. For once this type of arrangement lived up to its name. The supervisor of supervisors sent off a telex (to Vietnam we think - probably to Cathay there. And no, we were not aware anyone still used telexes any more either). We were asked to come back in half an hour and see if there was an answer.

I never like sitting idle, so while we waited, I got myself online and opened up my emails from the agency that had sent me the letters. Thank goodness they had a phone number. I then skyped the number and explained our plight to a staff member who spoke very heavily accented English (just like me really). He understood the problem, and asked me to email him the details. By then it was time to go back to the counter. No joy. The advice was to wait another half hour, rather than checking in only to Hong Kong, because if the miracle happened, it would save us recollecting our luggage.

Back on skype to my new best friend, and he said he would email me the altered letter in 10 minutes. Blow me down, that is just what happened. Now, how a commercial agency can re-issue a government letter complete with stamps in ten minutes defeats me, but I am happy to be defeated on this one. Back to the Cathay desk. Our other new best friend, aptly called Gioia (Oh, Joy, Oh bliss) was just saying she had still not heard when I was able to share the glad tidings. Then she agreed to print copies of the changed pages for us if I emailed them to her.

By the time we checked in flights were pretty full, and it seemed to take forever to get us seated, but our third new best friend Valeria (no puns available) sorted it out and we were, 90 minutes after starting, through check out. The great attention to detail on the part of Cathay may have saved some later embarrassment, but reserve judgement until you hear the process in HCM.

The Cathay level of service makes Qantas look pretty pedestrian. They have those terrific seats that recline without poking the person behind in the eye, and a great on-demand entertainment system. The staff were attentive and most polite. The 10 hours and 40 minutes passed in relative comfort if with no sleep. Someone really needs to tell airlines that just turning the lights off when the body clock says 3pm won't send you nighty night. (A: And I watched three movies although missed the last five minutes of "Debt", plus two episodes of CSI New York- thanks for the tip girls! And the food on this flight was excellent.)

Hong Kong in the early hours for transit was slow and untidy, but we had a good buffer. We became Vietnamese dong millionaires for 70 euro. We noticed we had not been seated together for the HCM flight, so I went to ask if that could be fixed. The bad news was no, the good news was that I had been upgraded. Like the gentleman I am, I gave the business class seat to Anne. She checked in as Dr Michael Bezzina without a murmur. When we cattle class types were finally able to board, I was challenged, but they let us go. Anne may wish to describe the royal quarters in detail. (A: My quarters were luxurious and I enjoyed every minute of the two hours I was there. The seats were the business class ones that cut across the cabin at an angle, not those side by side so there was maximum privacy. Soon after I arrived a lovely attendant introduced herself to me and asked if I was Dr Bezzina so for two hours I was!!! I could adjust my seat so it was almost completely flat and if this had been a longer flight I may even have been able to sleep which I usually can't do on a plane. The service was terrific again- I would really recommend Cathay Pacific, and we were served a lovely breakfast. I wonder if I will have such an opportunity to feel like a queen again?)

M:

The plane was boarded on time but rather late to leave. Then we were in Vietnam.

There was a clearly marked booth for applying for visas. There seemed to be three windows doing stuff - taking money, passing passports back, handing out and accepting forms - but no great system. All the while there was someone calling out what we assumed to be the names of the successful visa applicants - but between her accent, the diversity of languages the names were in and the crummy microphone which cut out and crackled, it was hard to tell.

We bellied up to the counter with our lovely amended letters and passports, only to be given a form to fill in. One of the early questions was your passport number - which was on the passports we had already given them. I know mine. Date of issue stumped us both though, so we just left them blank. We gave them the two photos, but not the 4 by 6cm that were explicitly asked for. They took the incomplete forms without demur and handed one photo back. We stood back, and after a not entirely unconscionable wait, got our passports and visas for USD25 each. We were in!

Then lines for immigration, mobs for x-raying luggage for customs and we broke through into the real world - and crowds that would make a Sydney FC game look good! Our driver was waiting for us - and had been there for an hour. He squeezed and bullied and insinuated the car through the HCM traffic - much busier than my earlier recollections and dropped us about 30 minutes later at the hotel (Xuan Mai - currently ranked number 4 of 269 on Tripadvisor)) where we were greeted like family - with promises of more assistance once we had settled in.

The room is clean, spacious,and well airconditioned. It has a TV with a good range of channels and a fridge and a bath and a kitchen sink whose purpose escapes us. The street is, as we knew it would be, noisy, but we think we'll cope. It didn't stop us napping for a couple of hours anyway!

After naps, we were ready to venture out. Armed with a map and some advice about a good place to eat we sallied forth into the lunatic traffic. Since I was here last, it looks like the scooters and motor bikes have been breeding. It really is impossible to walk on most of the footpaths (covered in scooters) so you are among the seething flow of traffic even when you DON'T want to cross the road. Now that takes some nerve. Spot a little gap, step out in a measured way with eyes on the incoming traffice, deviate neither to right or left. (Did I mention "say your prayers"?) and cross. Whew!

We had a nice meal at Kim Cafe - Pho Bo for me and a Chicken dish for Anne. It cost us about 12 dollars to feed both of us. We set off for a walk in the general direction of the Ben Tanh markets, but the combination of heat, traffic and tiredness meant that we really didn't have the necessary psychological resources to deal with the high pressure tactics of the stall holders who often grab you to get your attention. A little was enough for today. And just in case you think we were shrinking violets, you may like to take a look at some of the comments here. We want to get some tailoring done here, but we may ask the lady who seems to run the place - Nang - promounced Nung- if there are some recommendations rather than having to run the gauntlet.

Speaking of Nang, we spent about 15 minutes with her organising a range of activities for the next week - tomorrow to the Mekong (hope the forecast is accurate), Monday to the Cu Chi tunnels, Tuesday a water puppet show, Wednesday a cooking class and market visit. Sunday will be a local day and there is a forecast for wet weather - as there is for Tuesday and beyond.

Back for a rest - catching up on last nights absence of same - and then back on those mean streets for a meal about 9. This time we used a Lonely Planet suggestion, Pho Quynh. It sits on a busy street corner and really does mainly pho - as advertised. The great pity is that by avoiding stuff that might have been washed in the local water you can't have basil or bean shoots in the soup.

Currently just finishing this blog entry up after 11. Strangely not feeling like bed! The only dark cloud on the horizon is that my camera seems to have died. Not sure whether to buy one here or limp along with the phone.