Oh dear. I'm becoming quite the travel slut. I'm falling in love with Vietnam too.

It quickly becomes clear that this is far and away the most 'foreign' place I've ever been. As always, it's the little things...

Phone wires are hung above the streets in magnitudes that block out the sun. The architecture is a miscellany of communist horrors, shiny glazed blocks and French beauties. The language is utterly impassable. Yogurt bars are where young people hang out. The face masks to keep germs at bay are a fashion accessory, which the glamorous match to what they are wearing. And so on.

As always, the driving style cannot go unmentioned. If the road is packed, or if the one way system doesn't suit you today, just ride your moped on the pavement. The pedestrians will move if you drive fast enough.

But my personal favourites are the construction sites. The Daily Mail et al love to drone on about the UK being overrun by Mr Health & Safety, and sometimes they have a point. However, ying and yang being in balance, for every Britain there must be a Vietnam.

Today I have been showered with sparks and concrete dust, blinded by spot welding, and watched a couple of 3-year olds playing cards on the second storey of a five storey scaffold, whilst daddy mixed cement behind them. And that was just from the pavement, imagine what the middle of the building sites must be like. Something out of Mordor.

I briefly considered extradition of the UK's H&S personnel to Vietnam for a bit, to try and soften them up. Sadly, I suspect they'd just take photos to drop into What Not To Do presentations.

Just a thought.