As we've moved south through Vietnam there have been notable changes.

The weather has improved enormously. The jacket I bought has already been consigned to the bottom of my backpack - temperatures here rarely fall below thirty degrees and my tan has been topped up.

Food, too, has changed dramatically. Having been disappointed with the relatively bland cuisine in the north, we have feasted on fantastic fodder in central Vietnam. Regional variations are pronounced, with different towns specialising in different dishes. In Hoi An we stuffed ourselves with cau lao, a pork dish made with water from the Bau Le well, sucked meat from the claws of tamarind covered crabs and dipped melt-in-the-mouth squid in an aromatic dipping sauce. In Hué we've sampled rice cakes in steamed banana leaves, spicy sesame coated pork ribs and succulent beef wrapped in lôt leaves. Gorgeous.

Hoi An is a UNESCO world heritage sight and rightly so. It's an absolutely beautiful town and utterly charming. The narrow streets of the old town are mercifully free of motorised vehicles (most of the time) meaning that a meander around is possibly without risking your life every third step. The buildings are squat and painted in pastel shades, with shop signs all painted in tasteful gold letters on wooden backgrounds. Every other building is a tailors filled with vibrant fabrics and beautifully made dresses and suits. Between these sit arts and crafts shops, cute eateries and amazing historical sites. At night things look even more lovely: the streets are illuminated by strings of coloured paper lanterns.As well as spectacular temples and assembly halls we visited the Tran Family Chapel. Here, one of the residents gave us a guided tour and an insight into some of the traditions of ancestor worship: these included an altar stacked with boxes containing wooden tablets bearing the birth and death dates of family members and a garden where the umbilical cords and placentas of new born babies are buried for good luck.

We also visited the Cham temples at My Son. Here, Indonesian settlers build shrines to their gods which stood for hundreds of years until American shelling of the site led to major damages. The temples and towers are currently being restored, but with some difficulty: nobody is actually sure how the Cham people constructed their magnificent buildings. The best bet is that the bricks were glued together by layering them with flattened sugar cane, coating them in oil, building a wooden pyre around them and burning the lot until it all fused together. Unfortunately, those doing the restoration work have thus far been unable to replicate the success of the Indonesians.

In Hué, the damage to historical sites has not been extensive, but evidence of the war is never far away. The ancient citadel looks like it has been restored to its former glory, but just yards away sit decommissioned American tanks and guns. Just north is the Demilitarised Zone (DMZ) where north and south Vietnam were previously divided. This thin band of Vietnam saw massive fighting and has the scars to show for it. We visited the Vinh Doc Tunnels, a warren of underground rooms and passages where the Viet Cong hid for over five years while the war raged on around them. In claustrophobic tunnels (all dug by hand) which reach up to twenty-three metres below the ground, seventeen babies were born and sixty families lived a life which can scarcely be believed. Thankfully, nobody died and the families remained undiscovered: the one stray bomb which hit the site caused a hole which the resourceful residents turned into a ventilation shaft.

An unexpected financial bonus has arrived courtesy of my benevolent former employers, meaning that for now, the dream lives on. Next up, southern Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos. Sadly, our travelling party has been reduced to three again, following the departures of Sam and Katie. They'll be missed.