Vietnam 2023 – Trip Report 3

Thursday 31 August – Saigon  – Hanoi

Eyes open, time checked.  4.45am.

Good!

Back to sleep.

Sort of.

Phone looked at again; 5.30am.

Still good.

Doze, but little else, and then it happens.

That bloody alarm tune!

Get up, get sorted, and pack up.

Quick check of the time, and my phone is telling me it wants permission to do something.

Some kind of update, I think.

Whatever, just do what you have to, I mutter, as I click ‘yes’.

It begins, and an audible ‘aaaargh’, escapes my mouth.

It’s not some quick little app update, but a full system update, and from experience, well, it’s not going to be that quick.

I’m annoyed.

I’m annoyed that this bloody thing popped up now, but I’m more annoyed at myself, that I just hit ‘yes’ without considering the consequences.

And why is it of such importance that I need my phone to be able to do what phones do?

Well, I’m planning on ordering my first Grab ride, to the airport of all places, as soon as I get outside.

I’m packed and ready, but my phone is not, as I begin my walk downstairs at 7.00am.

Down one flight, and the thought crosses my mind that I might be better off staying near the modem outside my room.

Not so much because I’ll then be using Wi-Fi, but more that it might be quicker.

I make my way back up that one flight of stairs, and stare willingly, but also forlornly, at my phone.

It does actually update rather quickly, but it just didn’t feel like it, and then the ‘installing’ part begins.

I really don’t have time for this, so give up and head downstairs.

The plan, after talking to Lisa last night, was to book our final four nights of the trip, which will be in Saigon, here at the LeBlanc.  And that plan involved booking those nights as I checked out this morning.

But the younger girl isn’t at the desk, and instead, it’s the older woman.

She’s lovely, and incredibly friendly, but her English isn’t great, so I give up on the idea of doing the booking thing now.  I’ll sort it out later.

Instead, the only transaction that takes place is the transferring of the key from my ‘ownership’, to hers, which is accompanied by a cảm ơn.

Out into the hems, and then onto Nguyen Dinh Chieu, and yep, the bloody thing is still installing.

Rather than stand around looking like a dumb looking tourist, I decide to be proactive and remove myself from the street I stand upon.

Not because I don’t like this street, but because Nguyen Dinh Chieu is a one way street, and its traffic heads in the opposite direction to the way I need to go.

I set off, and turn right up the street I spent most of my time crossing over the last two days, and make my way towards Dien Bien Phu.

It’s crowded, busy, noisy, and already rather warm, and not helped in the slightest by both the backpack I’m carrying, as well as the considerable stress, bordering on panic, that I’m currently feeling.

Halfway up, and as beads of sweat form in multiple places, I look at my phone.  It’s still installing, and right now this is the most useless possession I own, with it not even being able to tell me the time.

Get to Dien Bien Phu, turn right, and find a little open area, away from the road, but easily visible, should I be able to successfully have a Grab person come to my rescue.

Phone is checked again, and the installation is complete.

Woohoo!!!

But now it wants to ‘re-start’.

Faaaark!!!

Eventually it returns to life, updated in all its new and never to be known glory, looking back smugly at me.

It knows I am massively displeased.

‘Grab’ icon is clicked, and the technically challenged begins fumbling his way through the process.

Grab bike is ordered, or at least I think it has been, and it appears that the fare will be 38 000 Dong.

It also appears that he, assuming he’s a he, is not far away, and that I could possibly see him in amongst all this traffic, should I look up and to my left.

I don’t, and keep staring at my now not so useless phone.

I’m not really sure what I’m looking at, but I quickly, as in really quickly, sense a presence near me.

I look up, and there in front of me on the road, is a guy on a bike, wearing a Grab helmet.

Well that was quick!  And easy!

Acknowledgement made, extra helmet handed to me, backpack placed where backpacks were designed to be placed, and we’re on our way.

The stress of the morning is quickly forgotten, as we zip our way through the mad traffic of Saigon.

It’s brilliant.  I love it.  It is seriously just so much fun!

On my way!

All too soon the park, not far at all from the airport, comes into view, and I begin wondering, but not worrying, where the Grab bikes drop off their customers.

I don’t expect to be dropped off at the door, because I’ve never seen large masses of the green helmeted Grab guys nearby, so I do expect a bit of a walk.

In anticipation of my ‘dropping off’, I turn my attention to my helmet, hoping to ascertain what sort of chin strap it has, so I can release it like the big boy I am, when we arrive.

But I just can’t work it out, despite squeezing it, pushing it, and just generally probing and fiddling with it, in every direction I can think of, that may result in an uncoupling.

In the end, I give up, and just enjoy the last few minutes of the ride.

Past where all the cars turn off, and around to the right, kind of away from the airport a bit, and then back again.  A group of bikes in the vicinity tells me we’re here, and sure enough, my guy pulls over less than 20 minutes after I got on.

Off the bike, helmet still attached, and I hand him a 50 000 Dong note for the 38 000 Dong fare.  He begins to organise some change, but I let him know that that’s not necessary.

He seems appreciative, but perhaps is also wondering why I’m still standing there in front of him, wearing his helmet.

I point at my chin strap, and give him one of those meek little smiles.  He obliges, and with him now reunited with his helmet, and me still none the wiser on how the catch worked, I bid him farewell with a cảm ơn, and head off to see if I can work out the way to the domestic terminal.

Across a small road, up a bit towards a multilevel carpark, and off to the left and under the aforementioned carpark.

All very straightforward, with the only concern being that I don’t bang my head on the rather low, overhanging plumbing pipes above me.

Out from under the carpark, and across the road where all the taxis and buses congregate outside the terminal.

Inside, find the Vietnam Airlines counter, which really didn’t involve any finding at all, and I take my spot in the queue behind just a handful of people.

Five minutes later I have a boarding pass, and I head off upstairs to do the security thing.

While it can be a rather painful and time consuming experience, this morning it is anything but that.

Take my place behind the two people who are ahead of me, positioning my passport and newly acquired boarding pass for ease of scrutiny, and emptying pockets of things that I would prefer remained in my bag, rather than left in full view on a plastic tray.

Passport and boarding pass examined by the friendly guy, and then returned, and it’s time for the complimentary x-ray and body scan.

Shoes and hat off, remaining pocket items removed, and I’m through within two minutes of getting upstairs.

Never before, and likely never again.

Off to the gate, and past all the expensive high-end stuff they try and sell you in airports.

I have less than no interest in this stuff, but for some reason I’m noticing this stuff, and everything associated with the displays, more than I usually do.

Maybe because I’m here on my own, and I don’t have to worry about whether Lisa remembered to put her shoes back on, after the security check?

I’m not sure.

The walk continues, and I notice an advertising sign with the word ‘journey’ written on it.  I have no idea what it means, or what they’re selling, but like last night, I think about this journey, that began 9 years ago.

I now wished I hadn’t seen that sign, and I really would have preferred not to have considered ‘our’ journey, as my vision becomes slightly blurry.

What the hell is wrong with me!?

Why am I getting emotional over a single word?

I’m really not sure, and the only thing I can put it down to, is the fact that I’m still struggling a little to believe that I’m actually back here.

I shake my head at my silly, slightly fragile, state, and think how much worse I’d be if I were actually catching a flight home, and not heading to ‘my’ Hanoi, this morning.

Yeah, wouldn’t be pretty…..

My eyes dry out as the walk continues, and I finally find my gate, which is right down the end.  I think it was also the same gate that our plane left from in 2016, when we flew to Quy Nhon.

See, the journey thing…..

So with bearings found, the next thing required is a café for an airport cà phê sữa đá.  I know it won’t be great, and I know it will be expensive, but it’s morning, and I need coffee.

Café found, large cà phê sữa đá ordered, and 78 000 Dong handed over.

And yep, it’s, you know, average.

But it does surprise me in another way, and that is that it comes in a paper cup, it has a paper lid, and the straw is of the carboard variety.

It’s a pleasant change from all the plastic, and as I head back to the gate, I can’t help but wonder that a change, albeit small, is underway here, when it comes to the environment.

Seat found at the gate, cà phê sữa đá savoured, for want of a better word, while a few notes are taken.

Five minutes later, while still admiring the paper cup and lid, I am reminded of my hatred for cardboard straws.

I’m sure there are worse products that have been invented, but apart from tofu, I’m struggling to think of another one.

As the battle with the straw drags on, something reminds me that I’m yet to book the LeBlanc for our final four nights, so I utilise Facebook to rectify that.

A message returns in mere minutes, and it’s nice to have that little chore, with it hardly being a chore when you consider what we have there when we return, out of the way.

More sitting, more waiting, a short walk to both pass the time, as well as reacquaint myself with what a smoking room looks like, but from the side of the glass where the air is clear.

Looks like a lot of fun in there….

Back to my gate for a bit more sitting and waiting, as well as some watching of airport user people doing their thing.

I don’t know what it is, but they seem to change once they have a boarding pass in their hand.

Waiting patiently for us.

Our flight eventually gets called, and yep, there’s a mad rush to be first on.

I wait.

The queue is long, which just reinforces my decision to sit back and wait, seeing as spending more time than I have to on a crowded plane, has very little appeal.

As the queue diminishes, I make my move, and it’s not long before I’m on the plane.  Row 43, so still a bit of a walk towards the non-pointy end, and seat ‘D’, which means I ain’t looking out a window.

Seat taken, bag at my feet, and I sit back and ‘enjoy’ the last of the ‘stowing’ of bags by the other ‘airport users’.

It’s always interesting, in a painful sort of way.

We get pushed back just after 10.00am, and as we make our way out on the tarmac, the pre-recorded safety demonstration comes on the seatback screen in front of me.

I’ve never seen it before, but it is so clever and so well done.

So well done, in fact, that it makes me emotional for some reason.

This is the second time this morning, and I just don’t understand it.  And worse, is that it hits me harder than the stupid ‘journey’ advertising sign, in the airport, to the point that I have to actually wipe away the liquid coming from my eyes.

Thank, ‘insert your preferred expletive’, they’re not playing the ‘Hello Vietnam’ song!

Tearful, but only to me, safety demo done, and the usual announcement is made telling people to turn off phones and electronic devices, as we make our way towards the end of the runway.

A minute later, while we’ve stopped to wait for something, someone’s phone rings.

We move on again, as the cabin crew strap themselves in.

A guy gets up to go to the toilet; he is told, in no uncertain terms, that that is not going to happen.

He sheepishly retreats.

We stop again; obviously there’s a few planes wanting to do the same thing that we are, while no doubt there’s some also wanting to return to earth; and another phone rings.

This time the woman answers it, and proceeds to have a conversation with whoever is on the other end.

The conversation, however, doesn’t last long, as the flight attendant makes it clear that the call is to end.

The terribly put out call receiver reluctantly hangs up, while being watched by dozens of disbelieving eyes.

We move on again, stop again, then move on.

We reach the top of the runway, and yep, again, another phone…..

My head involuntarily shakes as the plane makes its way down the runway, and as a dog’s bark is heard in the distance, and a baby cries, I sit and wonder how some of these people actually get through life.

We’re in the air just after 10.30am, and not long after, the food service begins.

When it eventually arrives; remember, we are in row 43; I open my bag to see the offerings.

There’s a savoury looking bun, or roll, type thing, that knowing a bit about Vietnamese bread / snacks, I suspect will taste nothing like it looks, and will actually be a little sickly sweet.

Bite taken; suspicion confirmed.

But I do battle my way through it.

Next thing is what appears to be two dry biscuit looking things, which have something that looks like could be cheese between them.

Again, with a little experience in such things, along with the fact that cheese is a little unusual to find here, I suspect it tastes nothing like biscuits and cheese.

Suspicion, once again, confirmed, with it being sweeter than the first thing.

The final offering comes in a fancy looking box, and my initial thought, partly due to the weight, and partly due to the fact that I’d seen them being sold on the street the other day, is that it’s a moon cake.

I have had a moon cake before, and while it wasn’t really my thing, I did eat some of it.

But this one, judging by the weight of it, along with the fact I’ve already eaten the other two things, is just a bridge too far.

And I feel really bad about it.

I leave it on my tray, just in case I change my mind, and happily accept a plastic cup of water from the drinks cart.

The water, which tastes like water, is good.

Making use of the complimentary headphones handed out earlier, I scroll the audio and visual options on the screen in front of me.

With most stuff less appealing than the ‘cheese and biscuits’, I settle on some music.

The Carpenters are an option, and knowing a few of their songs, I give that a go.  Although, while only knowing the very basics of Karen Carpenter’s life, I’m not sure listening to her in my slightly fragile state is such a good idea.

I decide to push on, but unfortunately, but perhaps fortunately, I can barely hear the sound.

Bryan Adams is then found, so that becomes the second attempt.

That too is a failure, with the sound quality ranging from really bad, to bloody awful.

I give up, write a few notes, which is difficult with a little turbulence going on, and then just simply watch our progress on the screen.

While it sounds like I’m complaining, I’m not.  It’s just observations, and I’m more than happy to accept that life ain’t always Disneyland and Christmas.

Anyway, I now have an interest; Vinh is to our left, we’re 10 600 metres in the air, we’re doing 870 km/ph, it’s -29°C outside, and we have 36 minutes to go.

Not long now, Hanoi!

Getting there.

Sit, stare, watch, count down metres as we descend, and just generally admire the flight attendants, who do an amazing job under, quite often, difficult circumstances.

They are also so incredibly friendly, and really do deserve so much better than what they receive, from many.

The final clean up happens, and when they get to row 43, I hand back my uneaten, and completely untouched, moon cake, explaining that very thing.

I think the flight attendant understood, and I really hope someone else gets to enjoy and appreciate it more than I could.

Closer and closer, lower and lower, slower and slower, and then at 12.20pm, we’re back on the ground.  Five minutes of not so aimless tarmac navigating, and we’re at the gate.

That’s probably as good as it gets, but it then takes 15 minutes to get off the actual plane.

Probably partly airport operational stuff, but also contributed to by the inability of some in regards to the retrieval of their belongings.

Finally get to the door of the plane, and the really friendly male flight attendant smiles and says, goodbye.

I reciprocate, while also giving him a cảm ơn.

He then says, “I love your tattoo”, while pointing at my arm.

The comment completely throws me, but it’s not so much what he said, but the way he said it.

I stammer out a surprised ‘thank you’, and head out onto the aerobridge, now walking a little taller, and with a bigger smile, following my small and ‘insignificant’ interaction.

I’m not completely sure why, but his comment meant more than he could ever imagine.

Into the terminal, and with a strong desire for a toilet, one is quickly found.

Relief attained, but my attempt to exit the facilities is somewhat held up, by the biggest crowd of men I have ever seen trying to enter a toilet.

With queueing not being a strong point of the Vietnamese, it was a mad scrum of people jostling to be the next to attain the relief that I had just achieved.

It was just ridiculous, to the point that it was funny, and funny enough that I actually involuntarily laughed out loud.

Finally extricated, I head outside in search of the Number 86 bus.

The familiar orange colour of the said bus is quickly spotted, but as I get closer, I notice it has the number 68 on the back.

Slightly confused, I look towards two guys wearing orange shirts.  One approaches, and because of the 68, I ask him if it’s the 86 bus.

“Yes, yes, hop on”, is his reply, so I do.

A young guy then gets on and begins taking fares, which when I hear him say it’s 50 000 Dong, confuses me even more.  Last year it was 45 000 Dong, and my belief is that it’s still the same.

He gets to near where I’m sitting, and making the assumption that my belief is out of date, I go to hand him money.

“No money, no money”, is his response, while shaking his head.

My level of confusion has now reached, well, another level, and I’m now the one shaking my head.

I have no idea what is going on, but decide to sit back and see where this all goes.

We’re soon on the way, and a few minutes later, we pull up at the International terminal.

And there, right in front of us, is another orange bus.

With this one having the number 86 on its back.

My number 68 bus driver then points at both me and the bus in front, and tells me to change buses.

Okay, well this hasn’t happened before, but that’s alright.

Quickly onto the ‘correct’ bus, 45 000 Dong fare paid, and we’re on the move just two minutes later, a bit before 1.00pm.

Feeling a little more relaxed, my attention is drawn to an email that I’ve received through the blog.

It’s a visa query, which isn’t unusual, and seeing as there’s not much in the way scenery out here to look at, I decide to get the reply out of the way.

That done, ‘send’ clicked, and I look up to see how our progress is going.

I’m slightly annoyed, but more surprised and perplexed, when I realise we are back at the Domestic terminal.

And there in front of us is a number 68 bus, with a stated destination of Ha Dong.

We sit for a few minutes, picking up a few more customers, and with the bus now rather full, we finally move on at 1.20pm.

But we don’t get far, as another customer flags us down.

That then happens twice more before we even exit the airport, and that ‘slightly annoyed’ feeling has now risen to ‘rather annoyed’.

The thought then crosses my mind that we could end up back at the International terminal, but fortunately for all concerned, that doesn’t happen.

Onto the express way, and then onto the big bridge that always makes me think of Toan, rain and 2017.

Getting closer, and then Long Bien Bridge comes into sight.

It’s great to see it again.

My stop, just up from Lo Su street, is next, and just after 2.00pm, I’m officially back in Hanoi.

It is so good to be back!

Down Lo Su, and then across the road to Hoan Kiem Lake, and the red bridge.

Yep, great to see it all again, as well as experience the buzz that is Hanoi.

My lake, my bridge, and along with Long Bien Bridge, my confirmation that I’m back in Hanoi.

Around the top of the lake, and then up Optical Street and past our former ‘home’ of Hang Hanh Street.

Around the corner, and drop in to see Cammy, formally of Green Village, who is now a permanent resident of Hanoi.  While it’s great to be back here in Hanoi, it’s even greater to see her again.

Very quick chat, just to let her know that I’ve made it, as I have an appointment to keep, and then up to the Holiday Emerald Hotel, my home for the next four nights.

Past the bun cha places on the corner, and while it’s been a long 12 months, it kind of feels like only yesterday that I was here.

Reach the hotel, and Jenny is at the desk.  Like Cammy, it’s great to see her again, after a few emails back and forth with her and Kate, over the previous few months while planning this trip.

She organises a juice and some mango, which was both much appreciated and really refreshing, and we sit and chat for a bit.

She’s lovely, as she was last year, and just so easy to talk to.

Appointment time looming, bag is dropped off in the room.  On the sixth floor this time, and because it’s only me, I’ve booked one of the windowless rooms.

Back downstairs, and down to quickly see Cammy again, before she finishes work.  Plans are made to catch up for dinner tonight, which will also give me the opportunity to meet her husband for the first time.

Close to my 3.00pm appointment time, I head off.  Over to Underwear Lane, and while it’s no longer a daily walk due to our change of hotel, it’s still a favourite street of mine.

Up towards Beer Corner, and then over to Ma May Street.  And there, on the right, the building where the appearance of my left arm changed forever, 11 months ago, almost to the day.

Yep, 1984 Tattoo Studio.

Inside, and I tell the girl downstairs that I have an appointment.

She seems to know, and directs me upstairs.

Reach the first floor, thongs off, and through the door.  A young guy approaches me, greets me by name, and already has the image that I believe I want, printed on a sheet of paper.

I was expecting to have to do some explaining, but they all seem to know, which has surprised me somewhat.

We sit and chat about it, discussing size and position, and then once the finer details are determined, he tells me they can do it now.

I wasn’t expecting that, after having to wait a few days last year, but I suspect having already sent them the image of what I wanted several weeks ago has sped up the process.

I’m tempted with the offer, but because I was prepared to wait until after I’d returned from Sapa and Bac Ha in a week and a half, I’m actually not in any great hurry.

And anyway, it’s getting very close to beer o’clock, and right now, I need a beer more than a tattoo.

Offer politely declined, but question on possibility of doing it tomorrow, asked.

“Yep, 10.30am?”

“Done!”

Back outside, and seeing as I can’t, and won’t, consider what I had on the flight as lunch, I head off to see if our pork skewer bánh mì girl is still there.

Down to Underwear Lane, then across to Hang Hanh Street, and around the corner into Bao Khanh.  Yep, she’s there, so one is promptly ordered for the grand total of 25 000 Dong.

With nowhere really to sit, I make my way down to the lake.  Across the road, and before I’ve had a chance to find a seat, I’m practicing English with a young girl and her father.

She’s a lovely little kid, and at just seven years old, her English is already very good.  Her father, who happens to be a doctor, is also really friendly, and we spend a few minutes chatting after the English lesson is over.

Bánh mì is finally eaten, and then it’s back to the Emerald for a quick toilet stop, via St Joseph’s Cathedral where a photo, as always, is taken.

Oh how I love that church!

It is just so difficult to resist the urge….

Down Hang Manh, into Stainless Steel Street, which is possibly and probably my favourite street in Hanoi, and then left into Bat Dan Street, where my beer place from last year is found exactly where I left it.

Seat taken, beer quickly arrives, and I’m well and truly back doing my most favourite thing.

Hanoi.  Bia Hoi.  Footpath.  Sights.

Happiness!

Yep, happiness!

The world is watched, and just like a year ago, it’s the same old.  And I am not unhappy about that at all.

The rubbish collectors, who are almost exclusively women, are doing their thing, and, I know I’ve said it before, but I just have huge admiration for them.  They work so hard.

The ‘sights’, and beers, are interspersed with a little catching up with people back home, who may or may not care where I am, or what I’m doing, along with a little teasing of people who, because they have been here before, would be very envious of where I am currently sitting.

Not just about the sights, but also the contemplation on the next one.

A bit before 6.00pm, time to make a move.  Beer tab fixed up, at the same price as last year of 13 000 Dong per beer, and I head back down Bat Dan Street.

As I do, a procession of ten or so cyclos goes past me, along with the associated tourists sitting in them.

The look on their faces was priceless, with a combination of bored, embarrassed and mortified, being the most common.

I’ve never understood it, and I never will, and I just don’t understand why they do it, and what the actual attraction of the whole thing is.

Into Stainless Steel Street, and up on the left is my convenience store from last year.

A few take away beers, along with a less important bar of soap, and, while not really paying attention, both the beers and the soap appear to be around 13 000 – 14 000 Dong each.

Back to the Emerald, and upstairs to my pre-booked windowless room, which I actually quite like.

A few notes, along with a couple of those very recently purchased beers, and then make use of that bar of soap, after a day of much running and sitting around.

Back outside before 8.00pm, and down to Hang Gai Street to meet Cammy, who unfortunately is on her own, as her husband has had to stay back at work.

Decision needs to be made on where to eat, and because I know where it is, and because I know everything I need to know about it, I make the executive decision on Nam Bittet.

Cammy is happy; probably because she doesn’t have to make the decision; and we head off in the direction of Beer Corner.

Getting to Beer Corner, it’s already crowded, so rather than walking the narrow lane and getting accosted by all the touts, we veer off to the left to avoid the worst of it.

Up to Hang Buom, and across to the other side of Hang Giay, and there, but not the first one on the corner, but the one next to it, is the restaurant that we’ve had a connection with since 2014.

It was, for quite a while, known as our ‘last’ restaurant, due to us finding it completely by accident on our final night in Hanoi, and Vietnam, way back on our first trip.

We have, since then, returned to what we now just call Nam Bittet, at least once, and more often than not, several times, on each subsequent trip to Hanoi.

As is always the way, we are quickly found a couple of seats, and our food, along with a soft drink and a beer, soon arrives.

The restaurant, as always, lives up to expectations in food quality, as well as ambience, which doesn’t quite sound like the right word when you’re talking about a street food place.

With Cammy at Nam Bittet.

We sit, chat, and eat, before I pre-empt Cammy and fix up the bill.  I still haven’t forgotten, nor forgiven, last year’s lunch bill payment, when she took me by surprise and paid before I realised what was going on.

Now one all, in the food paying stakes; but really, we’re well behind when it comes to what Cammy has done for us; and we head off with the loose plan of checking out the lake area.

Back down towards Beer Corner, then through Underwear Lane.  The toilet there, that has got me out of so much trouble over the years, is all locked up, and appears to perhaps no longer be what it once was.

If that’s the case, then it’s both disappointing and concerning.

Across to Hang Hanh, and around the corner into Bao Khanh, and the idea of the lake is quickly scrapped.

It’s the night before a long weekend of four days, to celebrate Vietnam’s National Day, and the party has already well and truly begun.

There are people everywhere, it’s absolutely nuts, and while it all looks like fun, the immense number of people just holds very little appeal to me.

Instead, we head up to the area around St Joseph’s, that while still busy, is far less frenetic than the lake.

Down a small lane off to the left, and a couple of ladies are found doing bánh mì’s and various drinks, including cà phê sữa đá’s and beers.

Too easy, and we’re quickly seated in the laneway, with Cammy doing the ordering, seeing as it’s just much easier, for obvious reasons, that way.

I soon have my beer, Cammy her cà phê sữa đá, and we just sit and chat some more.

While somewhat disappointed not to be able to finally meet her husband, it was just really nice to sit somewhere relatively quiet and catch up on the last 12 months.

She seems really happy, after the big changes in her life over the last couple of years, and it’s fantastic to see her that way.

More chatting, the time just flies, and all too soon it’s 10.30pm.

Even though the Emerald is just a few hundred metres down the road, Cammy insists on driving me down.

It’s incredibly kind of her, but she does make me a little concerned when she tells me she’s a very nervous driver when she has a pillion passenger.

I needn’t have worried, as she gets me ‘home’ safely, even managing to stop at the red light that we were always going to get, at the one and only intersection we had to pass through.

A quick see you later, as there will be plenty more catch ups over the next few weeks, and I turn to head up to the small convenience store just a few doors away.

I must have had eyes on me, as I’m immediately approached by a guy on a motorbike.

“Massage?”, he says, as he shows me his phone, which has a photo of a naked woman on it.

“Haha, no thanks”, is my response, but flattered that he had thought of me.

Up to the convenience store, still wondering, just like the last time the same little interaction / offer occurred, what is the going rate for such a service, and is it negotiable?

Unfortunately, but maybe more fortunately, I’m unlikely to ever know.

Couple of beers, along with a packet of chips, and then back to the room around 10.45pm for the usual.

It’s already late, but I’m not yet done, and while it kind of feels like it was a bit of a nothing day, it was far from that.

A change of city, an appointment kept, and another made, a catch up with a friend we’ve had for a number of years now, and a reacquainting with a someone we first met last year, when we made the move to the Emerald.

So yeah, not even remotely a nothing day.

A bit of Trip Advisor, some notes, and contemplation of how that 10.30am appointment tomorrow is going to slightly alter me.

Pin is pulled around 11.30pm, and while my room is dark and quiet due to the absence of a window, it’s not quiet from noise coming from inside the hotel.

I attempt to put up with it, but it’s clear it’s not going to work.

Get up again, and head down a flight of stairs to find the door I need to knock very loudly on.

No joy, it’s all quiet on the fifth floor.

Back up to the sixth, and nope, definitely not coming from here.

Try the seventh, and as I turn the corner out of the stairs, I can see my problem.

It’s a small group of women having a get together in a communal area, with one in particular who has absolutely no regard for any other guest in the hotel.

She sees me almost as quickly as I see her, and before I even get a chance to vent my annoyance, she apologises profusely, and promises to keep it quiet.

Good!, as I head back to my room, a little more awake now than what I was a few minutes ago.

Door closed, back in darkness, and noise, while still audible, is low enough to allow me to achieve what I need to, when I’m lying in a bed at this time of night.

Cheers,

Scott