After beaching it up in Nha Trang for a few days we put our bikes and ourselves on the overnight train to Da Nang. Cheating, perhaps, but I've done the stretch before and we had to make up for lost time. From there we rode about 30km south to the ancient sea port cum perpetual tourist zoo of Hoi An. People come to Hoi An for one reason: to get pimped out in a new suit and shoes. And you're damned right that's exactly what went down. Dan got two of each. And vest. I had a pair of leather suede boots made up to go with my $4 leather suede jacket from the flea market. Pimpin'.

I ran into some friends from Melbourne and we hit the bars. Two-for-one whiskey and cokes for $2.50? Yes please. Much drunken merriment was had, and a shisha pipe was passed around. Dan met a 'cousin' (it's an Italian thing) and as the night progressed our one table became about four. The bar closed and we thronged out to Why Not? bar, which is seemingly the only place in Hoi An open after midnight. People get very drunk there and dance on the pool table. Every night. Someone decided we should get some pot, and Dan found himself driving a dealer named Duong on the back his bike to aquire some of the good stuff. From Duong's mum's house of course, where else. The poor guy had no idea what he was in for. Duong chose the wrong white dude to proposition for a deal. Dan was already raging drunk by this point, and little dealer Duong with no helmet was hostage to his bursts of speed and lack of vision. The inevitable happened. Dan crashed the bike on the way to Duong's mum's house, and returned with a shaken and somewhat petrified Duong, and no drugs. Poor Duong was understandably upset at this point, but Dan wasn't finished yet. He couldn't find the 200,000 dong he'd had on him, and began accusing Duong of stealing it. Duong was mortally offended. Not only had this guy crashed the bike with him on the back, now he was accusing him of being a thief. The money turned out to be in Dan's pocket the whole time, right where he'd left it. When he discovered his error Dan apologised profusely. Duong wanted nothing more to do with it, but Dan wouldn't leave the poor guy alone. He pulled Duong into a forced hug (which was more like a headlock) and wouldn't let him go until Duong had accepted his apology. Then Duong started to cry. Like a baby. Oh, the injustice of it all! A country where the scorers make the dealers cry! But that still wasn't enough.

When Dan woke up the next day and realised that his phone was missing, he jumped on his bike, hungover as f***, and went straight to Duong's mum's house. He revved the engine until the windows shook in their panes and half the neighbourhood showed up to see what the f*** was going on. The message had been sent, and he took off. No doubt minutes before the Hoi An mafia would have showed up to beat his helmet in with bamboo sticks. He never found the phone.