May 28, 2011
DAY 24
Still no luck with the Vietnamese invitation letter. There’s nothing at Guilin airport. Something doesn’t want me to go to Vietnam. I figure I was a draft dodger in a former life.
I fly four hours south to Kuala Lumpur to fly one hour north to...

DAY 24

Still no luck with the Vietnamese invitation letter. There’s nothing at Guilin airport. Something doesn’t want me to go to Vietnam. I figure I was a draft dodger in a former life.

I fly four hours south to Kuala Lumpur to fly one hour north to Saigon. Beats me why. For a trip that was originally conceived as an overland route as far as I could go, something has gone badly wrong.

In Kuala Lumpur airport there is a Business Centre. It’s located in the Plaza Premium  Lounge. I’ve gotten really good at it in China and I haggle down from 118 Malaysian Ringgits to 28 to use e-mail and print the Vietnamese invitation letter. I settle my business. Next to me an American surfer who missed his flight and says ‘bra’ to his buddy on the phone settle his business.

Onboard the first flight there’s a quiz near the end. They give away dinner for 2s. They ask for the flight number, then the Air Asia website, then the captain’s name. No-one has a clue what the captain’s name is so they ask the menu price for something and everyone goes for the in-flight menu card. People hold the same menus aloft on the second flight and stub fingers at pictures of mineral water, nuts, duty free.

Following so much time on trains, I am not a fan of air travel. In spite of being that much closer to my fellow passengers, I have next to zero inclination to strike up conversation with them. Build me a high-speed sea train and put me on that instead. Give the Chinese 2 years and someone will have come up with the plans.

At the airport I withdraw cash. It’s Mongolia all over. I have piles and piles of Vietnamese Dong.

I share a cab with a half-Vietnamese, half-German girl into Saigon. She has her own fashion brand and lives right near the American embassy. She gets out first and says I need to only pay the cab driver 50,000, she already agreed a price. I watch the meter rise to 200,000 then scram as fast as possible after giving him 50,000. He follows for a while, there’s some shouting, I wonder if it will get ugly, then I’m just another backpacker in the backpacker area.

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