Soooo from the beginning... We met in Heathrow at half 10 ish and faffed about with the checkin. First with the self-checkin machines which took forever and half of them didn't work and then they sat us miles apart from each other and we had to queue up anyway. Then with the super-grumpy checkin clerk who was not having a very good time talking to us, but did checkin our bags, but did also sit us all miles apart. The guy behind us was checking in box after box of crisps (walkers, mccoys, the works), which at the time was hilarious. Mainly for me.

We didn't have long in the departure area, only enough time to buy some books we probably won't read and some snacks for the plane, oh and a super-useful WHSmiths bag. This guy in the queue had a wheely case that he must have dropped 20 times whilst we were in there, each time making the whole store turn and glare.

So then we boarded. And the plane was extra nice, with one of those consoles in the back of the seat infront with a cracking choce of films (I watched 3) and games and TV and whatnot. The food was fine, the time passed fine, Abi and I Valium-ed up but have obviously become super tollerant, or cross tollerant with booze, because it did little to either of us. We were also on the flight with Mike, another Notts medic who was on his way to Austraila for the month.

The changeover in HK was unremarkable, other than seeing the chav-tastic glittery phones for literally thousands of pounds, they were a joke. Oh and I had a smoked salmon sandwich made mostly of just bread, incase you were wondering.

The next flight, we were also sat miles apart, though the lovely lady with the hilarious accent said we could sit together, eating our whatever-it-was with noodles and whatever-it-was.

In Ho Chi Minh Airport my bag didn't arrive, which was a bit annoying, but oddly didn't annoy me. The lady at the Cathay Pacific desk seemed confident it'd arrive later that night and would be delivered to my hotel in the city by 11pm. It wasn't.

After more security checks to get out of the airport, odd, we changed over our small wadges of random currencies and suddenly became millionaires. 25,000 dong = 1 GBP, or thereabouts. Ever since it has been totally hilarious getting bills in restaurants for three-quarters of a mill, or buying a stirfry for a few hundred-thou.

Our taxi driver ripped us off massively on the drive to the Hotel Orient in district 1, as standard, and we checked in, it was fine. It was in the backpacker-area, with really nice street bars and a super handy travel advisor KIM. Well not actually Kim, but Kim's friend who probably looks exactly like Kim. So we had a drink and told about 20 street vendors to piss off and then formulated a plan with Kim's friend, and headed to the market.

It was super busy, everything piled high, thousands of tiny Vietnamese people trotting around grabbing us trying to sell either total tack, gross tack, fake designer tack, slightly nice tack, or the most amazing bargains ever, buried in tack. They all stared at our eyes and told us how gorgeous we are all the time, taking photos of the girls - but not of me for some reason, probably would all have been a bit much for them.

As usual, if you accidentally look at something, then anything that looks a tiny bit like it is unfolded and thrown at you - which at first made me feel guilty, but then later on just annoyed. I bought some linen trousers, they're filthy now.

We sat in the park for a bit and just took in the city - agreeing that we loved it. The air is thick with humidity and a big cloud of smog hangs over the whole palce, but the vibe is so relaxed and so friendly, everyone smiles at you, and even though they can be a pain in the arse with the heckling, they are really nice about it. The street vendors will even tell you to be careful if you accidentally leave your bag unzipped because they're worried you'll get mugged - now that really took me by surprise. The language isn't too much of a problem, they understand some of their words and we understand some of their gestures, and we get by.

We meandered back to the hotel, washed off the film of sweat and pollution, then tried to find a restaurant the lonely planet reccommended for it's traditional menu and non-touristy feel. We walked around for an hour, we walked until there were no more street lamps, then we asked for help and the lady pointed in totally the wrong direction.

We ended up in what turned out to be a super swanky part of town and a really swanky restaurant, though it was still dead cheap. Here Lydia met us.

We ate, we returned to the hotel, my bag hadn't arrived, so we popped into see Kim's friend, who might have been Kim's friend's friend, and booked our plan for the day after. Then we had a drink in GO2 before bed - we were nackered, I think it wasn't until just then that the time difference hit us. The beds were like bricks full of cement covered in plaster, but we slept like logs.