So we woke up in the morning, booked for a trip to the Cu Chi tunnels - the scene of some of the heaviest action (ground and air) in the Vietnam war. We strolled down to the travel agent's office in Pham Ngu Lao (well actually we took a taxi, as we'd slept in) and had a whole ten minutes to spare before the 8AM start. We let the guy know we'd be having a coffee next door, which was our first mistake of the day, and the bus left without us. This wasn't a problem though, as they quickly called in the cavalry - another tour guide called Mr. Ki

The policy of the government here is to encourage guided touring by veterans, and although Ki had missed the US war (he was at university until '73) - he was then a Northern soldier in the reunification wars. His first stop was at a factory set up to assist victims of Agent Orange - which provided craft-type jobs (making baskets, lacquerware and cigarettes) for those victims of Dioxin who were 'lucky enough' (his words) to have properly functioning arms and eyes. Although the factory was partially closed for Tet, it was amazing to see. We found it a very positive place, but the legacy of Dioxin, which was sprayed heavily over the entire Cu CHi area, is still very evident today - causing a whole range of birth deformities in people across the region and further afield. Agent Orange, like a landmine, doesn't go away with a peace agreement, and continues to extract a terrible price for the conflicts of the 1970's.

About an hour's drive in and we arrived at Ben Dinh - a renovated section of Cu CHi's tunnels. This was an agricultural area in the early 20th century, and served as a base for armed insurgency against the French and then American forces, given its proximity to Saigon. Underground tunnels were first built in the 1940's to provide the guerillas with protection against the heavier artillery of the incumbent administrations in the capital. The tunnels were extended to over 250km in length at their zenith in the 60s, and were home to some 16,000 VC fighters; only about a third of that number survived to the end of the war.

The parking lot was full - this is a very busy stop on the tourist trail, but is also heavily visited by local Vietnamese people. After buying tickets, we were marched into an underground bunker, and then made to watch a strange 1960's propoganda video for 20 minutes, which would have been funny if the subject matter wasn't so serious. A typical opening line from the narrator - "Like a bunch marauding devils, the war-loving Americans tried to bomb and destory the peaceful village of Cu Chi". This was followed by portraits of local war heroes or "American-Killers", who were presented special awards for "killing and maiming the enemy" - one of them was a 16-year old girl. It was very bleak, and shows something of the anger and bitterness that made the Vietnam war a battle of such relentless attrition. Feeling a bit dazed, and slightly relieved to not be American (one of our group, Bruce, found it quite uncomfortable), we then progressed to the tunnels proper.

I can't say I loved the tour side of it. There was something of the fairground conveyor belt experience about Cu Chi. Each group stopped at a point in the jungle and was shown a particular feature of the tunnel, with a bit of information on the whole setup. Trapdoors, construction, kitchens, field hospitals, smoke dispersal systems, and traps designed to maim rather than kill were all dealt with in turn. We crawled through a 15 meter tunnel, which had been specially widened to accomodate fat foreigners - the orginal tunnels were only 70x80cm to make life as difficult as possible for the larger American soldiers, but even the widened tunnel gave a flavour the harsh conditions that those people had to put up with in addition to all the other nastiness of being at war. It really was an amazing feat of operational logistics and construction, with fighters living semi permanently in underground bunkers, drawing water and carring out everyday activities five or six meters below the surface of the earth. To large extent it worked, too, supporting insurgency all the way from the Cambodian border to Saigon - this was probably the reason the American and South Vietnamese declared it a 'free-fire' zone, allowing and encouraging any spare artillery (e.g. from bombing missions elsewhere) to be dropped over Cu Chi - in addition to the Agent Orange defoliation program in place. When you think of all the horrors that went on here it seems strange to tour from stop to stop in this macabre DinseyWorld - some of the bunkers even have anamatronic robots in VC gear carrying out the day to day tasks of war. To top it all off, we ended up at the refreshments stall at the end of the line. As we walked in gunfire burst out from the range at the right hand side, causing some of the group to leap into the bushes! In addition to beers, cokes and ice-creams, you can also buy rounds of ammunition and have a crack with an AK47 or M60 machine gun at some targets on their shooting range ... bizzare (but also quite fun, I'm ashamed to say).

Having said all of that - it's definately worth going to Cu Chi. The area must have been home to some of the heaviest, nastiest and most sustained fighting ever seen on our planet, but it's risen from the ashes in its own way - even the trees have grown back.

On the way back, Ki gave us his view of Vietnam's experience post-war. It was terrible that "Uncle Chi Minh" died, he said. Lots of people call Ho Chi Minh "Uncle Ho", "Bac Ho" or "Uncle Chi Minh" here, and he's still very much viewed as a father-figure. In the rudderless decade after his death (which included American withdrawal, reunification and the overthrow of Pol Pot), the government implemented a harsh style of communism which resulted in extensive poverty. "But now," he said, smiling, "we lucky! Vietnam now follow China idea. If anyone can get money, they can start business. No politics, but if you have money, you pay tax and follow rules, you can make a lot of money. Look at me. Tet holiday today, I should be home with family. But I prefer to be here with you and your dollars". That summed it up for me. Vietnam has embraced Socialist Capitalism (whatever that might mean) with open arms. I don't know if that's good or bad in the grand scheme of things, but it's filled the people with a huge amount of optimism and drive, and it's got to be better than the 20th century - which from all accounts was a hundred years of fairly non-stop conflict, with the worst kinds of war(and some would say the worst kinds of peace, too)...

Gosh - all that blogging and it's only lunchtime...

So - feeling slightly shell-shocked, we got back on the bus and were dropped off at the War Remenants Museum. This used to be called "The Museum of Chinese and American War Crimes", and is very, very harsh. It's basically a collection of photographic displays of different aspects of the Vietnam War, and includes some very graphic scenes in some sections. There is a whole wall dedicated to My Lai - the site of the massacre of hundreds of Vietnamese civilians in 1968. I guess there's more than one side to every story, but pictures of dead women & children chucked in a pile on the floor are pretty hard to look at, and it's hard to understand how a group of soldiers could kill a whole villiage full of non-combatants, even if they were supporting the VC effort with food and shelter. This display really brought home that the worst thing about war is the way it normalises brutality. There was a picture of an American GI smiling for the camera; probably 18 or 19, and looking really comfortable in his own skin, but holding up the partial corpse of a VC soldier (I guess the same age), who'd been blown in an armed contact.

Obviously the museum gives a one-sided view of the war. It ignores the fact that there was a South Vietnamese government and armed troops, and also glosses over some of the post-war retribution activities; bulldozing of war cemeteries, etc. However, some of the (clearly later) displays are more conciliatory in nature - there's a whole section dedicated to Jane Fonda, who was very active in the anti-war movement, and visited Vietnam extensively during the last years of the war. Also remembered are the hundreds of journalists on all sides who lost their lives between '65 and '73.

The last room we visited in the museum has a large map of the world on the far wall. On it are listed the 168 countries who have diplomatic relations with Vietnam, and the order in which those relations are maintained. The Russian Federation is first, with America coming in at 155. Looking around the rest of the room, it's filled with press cuttings of countries who arranged international protest against American involvement in Vietnam, with small but vocal countries moving right to the top of the list. Thirty years on, support for that cause still plays such a huge part in matters of government and trade - it really illustrates the importance of the war as a defining theme in the Vietnamese psyche ... and it's very clearly remembered, with support of exhibits like the one we've just seen.

As I came out of the museum, I realised I hadn't taken any pictures, and that I didn't remember anyone else taking any either ... it's such a grim place, it leaves you feeling really sobered, and we were pretty quiet walking back to the hotel.

Later on that evening, we went to the rooftop bar at the Sheraton to see the sun go down. Ho Chi Minh City stretched out in front of us as far as the eye could see, in every direction - corrugated iron rooves blending with the smog of three million motos about fifteen kilometers in the distance. Mulled over what had been quite a day, and had two drinks (at Sheraton prices) that cost more than the hotel room we were going back to that night!