Again Kitty R. and Sir Last travel by vietnamese night train, in which the compartments are made entirely of varnished dark wood, on the table there is a jug with freshly plucked flowers, and blue bathroom flip-flops lie scattered on the floor. The compartment is for 4 people, so Kitty R. and Sir Last are accompanied by two young American women who teach English in one of the Thai schools in the countryside.
Travelling around Southeast Asia is simple and sweetly thoughtless. After landing, most often in Bangkok or Hanoi, the tourist is immediately taken into a spider’s backpacker network, not requiring from him too much thinking or organizing. Town after town, attraction after attraction, thread by thread; offer attack at every step. To get out of this imposed network is probably possible only for lucky motorbike owners or very fierce hitchhikers. A specific travel dress code also seems to be solid here; dresses and trousers predominate in banana and watermelon patterns (Kitty’s favourite couple is the one dressed as a pineapple-couple).
To write that Saigon is crowded for Kitty R. is as writing that the Earth is round; almost everyone knows that. However, for Kitty R. to hear about this is one thing, and to survive it, is another matter. Ho Chi Minh is not a pedestrian city; here are scooters that fill the urban space to the brim; all pavements are completely obstructed by parked mechanical two-wheelers. Kitty R. observes and inevitably participates in the street traffic with a certain fascination; it seems that there is absolute lawlessness here.