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How I will remember Ho Chi Minh City - the sound of motos in the morning and the screams of terrified tourists, running for their very lives....

So, here I am in Ho Chi Minh City but not for much longer. Tomorrow is my last day in Vietnam, and from here I will catch a flight to Kuala Lumpur before catching a flight the following day to Singapore and then to home. The time has gone so slowly in some ways: we've done so much in the three months I've been away, but it's gone so fast that it seems like only yesterday I was stepping on that plane......

The pioneers, altogether at their last stop, HCMC, the city of pagodas....
This picture is taken at the Vietnam Quoc Tu pagoda and that's Shakyamuni there behind us, waving his many arms.

Ho Chi Minh City, or Saigon as many people still refer to it by its former name, is the perfect place to end a trip like this, in an urban metropolis that is simply teeming with life, culture and history. But the first thing that hits you about Ho Chi Minh City isn’t any of these. It’s the traffic, hopefully not literally, but here there are no guarantees.....!

I don't know if you can see this, but those boxes say Longevity Mushroom. Priceless. Well, a few hundred thousand Vietnamese Dong (we have not sniggered at the name of the currency once, nor have we once said "Who's got the dong?", "Where's my dong?" "I've got a little dong" or any variations thereof. Not once. Apart from then.

Ho Chi Minh City has a population of over 6 and a half million people, and although many of them drive cars, over 5 million of them use motos. The streets are packed with more motos than the average moto factory on its yearly ‘What’s the maximum number of motos we can pack into one place’ day. Fact. Add into this mix buses, cyclos, bicycles and pedestrians and you have a recipe for the most amazing road-crossing experience you’ll ever have in your life. The stream (by which I mean tsunami) of traffic on the roads is constant, so in order to cross you just have to step into the traffic and walk. Oh yes.

And more traffic. That cyclo ahead has Kate and Ang in it. This is a very mild traffic moment, now try and picture taking on the most chaotic roundabout you can imagine in one of those. I had a truck of police in my face at one point, not the police in my face, they were just pointing and laughing, but actually the truck. It has to be experienced, especially as the government wants to phase out the cyclos as they slow down the traffic, not to mention shortening the drivers' lifespans.

Somehow, cars, buses and so many motos you couldn’t shake a big old moto shaped stick at them, just swerve round you, usually tooting at full volume but never actually hitting you. Which is nice. Our first day, we thought we would spend our whole trip here on one block unless we got taxis across the road, but it’s weird how quickly you get used to it, and I hope that I remember not to try the same trick at home. The only consolation is that it works the same way for the motos who just swerve in and out of each other’s way with a generally high level of success. We’ve seen a couple of riders come off since we arrived, and there are on average 3.5 fatalities each day here, so not always though. Extreme.

The Thien Hau Pagoda in Chinatown. Very beautiful.

My favourite thing about the motos though, is the helmets that the riders wear. It has only recently become compulsory to wear a helmet in Vietnam, and the helmets worn here are not like the ones at home. They are a cross between a baseball cap and a helmet and I am seriously considering bringing one home so that I can use it as a cycle helmet.

The incredibly beautiful Hotel de Ville. Not actually a hotel, but the headquarters for the People's Committee of Ho Chi Minh City, which is what they call a local authority here. I'm quite liking the People's Committee of Portsmouth as an idea....

Our first stop was the War Remnants Museum, which tells the story of the Vietnamese War, acting as both an important portal to the perspective of war from a Vietnamese perspective, and as a testament to the lasting, enduring damage of war to all sides. Harrowing, disturbing, and in many places very moving, the museum is a must visit destination to anyone with an interest in the history of Vietnam. But be prepared for an emotional experience, and in some places a shaky one. My overwhelming ignorance over the history of South East Asia (and thus my history of the world) has come to the forefront of my attention so clearly over this trip.

Waxwork Vietcong at the Cu Chin Tunnels. The waxworks weren't that impressive, but I took the picture because I thought the one in the hammock looked a bit like Paul McCartney.

Like many others, I suspect, I simply had no real idea of the details of world history, the complex machinations of man's incessant need to dominate land, people, ideas. At times this has filled me with a strong sense of humility and at points even shame during my time here, particularly in Vietnam and in Cambodia. Even more than this, my own lack of awareness of recent world history has made me even more aware of my ignorance of current world affairs, and the things that are happening right now.

For a real insight into the Vietnam War and the Vietnamese people, though, a trip to the Cu Chi Tunnels is a must. The people of Cu Chi built a network of underground tunnels that were used by the Vietcong and run for some 200km. When we went down into the original tunnels, they are only large enough for me to crawl through. I lasted for about 25 feet before I hoofed it up and out the next exit into the fresh air. At points it was pitch black in there and ridiculously hot, and it was a real effort of the mind for me not to descend into panic (memories of being the wrong way round in a sleeping bag as a child.........Matthias.........?).

Goods for sale at the Chinese Medicine Market, Chinatown. I'm not sure what these are but they smelt funky.

Yet the Vietcong would stay in these tunnels for days on end, often living within them to avoid detection by the US. As well as the tunnels themselves there are a vast amount of hidden entrances and exits, and the Vietcong constructed a huge amount of ‘home-made’ weapons and traps, including a ‘bamboo trap’ previously used for hunting animals, which is a swinging trapdoor in the ground that, if stood upon, propels the victim down onto a bed of spikes.

This guy is climbing out of the tunnel system. That's a hidden exit. Look at the size of it. Now imagine how small the tunnels are. When that lid goes back on, you can't see it at all. Those Vietcong - who were mostly 'normal' civilians and farmers - were good. Like really good. And what have we got by comparison? Dad's Army.

The sheer determination of the Vietcong, who were often farmers by day and guerrillas by night, highlights why any offensive by foreign governments, no matter how devastating, could not succeed here.

A little sculptured dude outside the Fine Arts Museum - I would call this piece, Average Man Thinking.

At the Fine Arts Museum, where we saw work of many Vietnamese students who are using art to make sense of the legacy of the past, including many pieces that show concern about pollution, the changing urban environment, and about the continuing effect of Agent Orange and other toxins used in the Vietnam War, which continue to devastate the lives of many across Vietnam. This is also a recurring theme in the War Remnants Museum, where photographic collections document the multiple disabilities and often severe hereditary effects of these toxins on generations being born today. The Fine Arts Museum is one of my favourite places we’ve visited here, in part due to the contemplative atmosphere of the building, and due to the sheer range and amazing quality of pieces on show.

The Old Post Office - can you see Uncle Ho watching over proceedings at the back?

HCMC has some amazing architecture. A great example of 60’s architecture here is the Reunification Palace, where we have a guided tour with the hilariously charming Nghiem, who takes us around on his lunch hour. The reunification palace was like a step back in time and it was here that the North Vietnamese officially wrested power from the South after the US pulled out of Vietnam. The most surreal part of this visit was a dying scorpion on the floor in the basement, which no one seemed to have noticed and by which no one but us seemed alarmed.

Dying scorpion. Just there, on the ground. Was Ithe only one thinking, 'Where there's a dying scorpion.......' Possibly. Did I get the hell out of there? Immediately.

The Sixties have NOT left this building - The Reunification Palace, virtually untouched since its days as the former home of the government of South Vietnam, or the 'US puppet government' as they like to call it here.

After the Reunification Palace, we went for a walk into the centre of HCMC. Capitalism may only have been adopted by the government in the mid eighties, but Saigon was the previous home of entrepreneurialism before the Communist government took power and reunified the country, and it has returned here with a vengeance. Western nations have had a real problem with the lack of respect for copyright in Vietnam, and the photocopied books, pirated DVD’s, and rip off Playstations and iPods are on full and open display everywhere. This is a real novelty for me, and part of me really likes it! My photocopied books will be prized possessions when I get home.

Ho Chi Minh City even has its own Notre Dame Cathedral. It's blooming huge.

Religion has been one of the most interesting things about Vietnam, which is inherently multi-faith, with temples for Taoists, Confucianists, Buddhists, and Hindus, Islamic mosques and Catholic churches in abundance. The most fascinating religion we’ve encountered though is a Vietnam original and was only founded in 1926 – Cao Daism. This religion fuses aspects of all the above religions, especially Catholicism, Confucianism, Taoism and Buddhism and has very strong spiritualist aspects, as the religion was founded on messages received through mediums from the spirit world. Indeed, one of the saints of this religion is Victor Hugo, the French writer, who communicated many messages to the church!

The Great Eye of Cao Daism at its HQ Cathedral in Tay Ninh, some 100km outside HCMC and our first and only tourist coach trip. Never again. Hell is other tourists. Nuff said.

We met a follower of Cao Daism a few days ago, Mr Kim, who is a cyclo rider here in HCMC. He spent a couple of hours with us over coffee explaining some of the final details of Cao Daism, using a notebook stuffed with notes, diagrams and pictures that he has compiled over the years for just this purpose. There is something very beautiful in Cao Daism, a sincere attempt to bring together all the major religions of the world, that perfectly illustrates their similarities and highlights the inherent beauty in humankind’s attempts to understand and find meaning in the world around them. Cao Daism fuses elements of pure mathematics and even physics with its religious eclecticism and begins with a religious explanation for the Big Bang, which created Yin and Yang.

Mr Kim at the Thien Hau Pagoda. We were very fond of Mr Kim, and his ability to teach via repetition. The title of this last blog entry is one of his Cao Dai mantras.

Travelling has also made me aware of my good friends at home, who have kept in touch in lots of ways over the months, and how very important they are to me. One good friend recently reminded me of the importance of remembering the ‘big picture’ in my consideration and reaction to what I see here, and nowhere has the ‘big picture’ been as evident as here.

Talking to Mr Kim about Cao Daism, as well listening to Minh on our visit to the Cu Chi Tunnels, made me realise that the appreciation and profound desire for peace that both men so powerfully articulated to us can perhaps only come from a lived understanding of suffering and violence. Perhaps, I wonder, this is why things in the West are such a mess, where our every need has been met with such luxurious ease, we no longer understand the material or spiritual value of even the simplest things any more.

My favourite of the temples and pagodas Mr Kim took us to, Quan Am Pagoda, dedicated to Quan Am, the boddisatva of compassion. This is a taoist pagoda, and so colourful, I hardly dared blink in case I missed something.

As well as introducing us to his faith, Mr Kim also took us around HCMC’s Chinatown with one of his friends on their cyclos. There is something inherently wrong about two elderly men cycling you around the city, but this is not how Mr Kim sees it. He has made his living this way for many years and in the process has learnt to both speak and to write English.

It's me, monkey! Ok, not actually me but Monkey as in magic, as in born from an egg on a mountaintop, as in blowing on your fingers for your magic cloud. Monkey. He's big in Vietnam. This was also at the Taoist pagoda.

It's me, the dragon! Well, not me. Another of the many finely detailed features of the Taoist temple. Beautiful.

I am not sad that my trip ends here. There was a point where I was nervous about it, but even this has abated. It is only South East Asia that I am leaving behind, and all that I have learnt comes back with me. My next adventure starts in England, and I feel more aware of a sense of adventure about this next part than my nerves would allow me to feel when I left England for Kuala Lumpur. In reverse, coming back to England, it is, as the South East Asian tourist mantra goes, ‘Same, same but different’. I have no way of knowing what awaits me in England and what I leave in South East Asia – my desire to anticipate every event in the false belief that I can somehow control it – I am more than happy to leave behind me.

Smoke me a kipper, I’ll be home in time for breakfast!

And, as ever, and for the last time in cyberworld, Peace Out x