Well, so it goes that after hearing Max whine and whimper about his lack of photo opportunities in Singapore I felt sorry for the guy and behind his back organised a long Easter weekend in Vietnam and more precisely in Hanoi city and Halong Bay.

When I told him about it he hopped around like a puppy and happily bought himself a humungous new Canon lens that he would traipse around the bustling streets of Hanoi and use to immortalise every wooden plank of our cruise ship for 4 activity packed days.

Claiming to know everything about Vietnam he was mightily miffed when we did not land after 1 hour as he thought but after 3 and a half as I had told him but got over the annoyance immediately and after having (me!) the usual meltdown-kill-this-bunch-of-morons moment at the ridiculous bureaucracy of visas and passport stamping we finally headed to Hanoi.

Never had we seen such a sea of scooters and even the scary experience of scooter filled Bali did not prepare us for the stampede of intertwining motorcycles carrying everything from enormous bales of clothes, to chickens packed 50 to a crate and even the occasional bull.

We headed for the old quarter where our hotel was booked and where the taxi would pick up us the following day to take us to our cruise ship and took possession of our room. But there is no rest for the wicked and immediately we headed off to visit the old town.

Now, old Hanoi city is a mix of faded French colonial grace and a multicoloured garbage heap and while it might sound ghastly it is also very real, human and sweet and miles away from sterile Singapore.

Scooters....scoot out from and to every direction and road rules are really pointless guidelines while the constant use of the horn is king. After a first moment of panic we realised that there was a certain flow and order to the manic, noisy disorder and also that closing our eyes and stepping out to cross the street would be more effective and less dangerous than relying on the faded zebra crossings last painted back in 1960.

Stores spill out onto the streets that become a sort of extension of businesses, homes, kitchens with punters and owners sharing a meal, a game of chess or a hair cut while sitting on plastic toddler stools. Women shred vegetables and cut meat sitting on the pavement while toothless grandmas stir fry strange concoctions on a portable gas hob and gossip with other toothless grandmas shaking their head in visible disapproval at the youngsters and having a jolly good time in the process. With everybody looking at the two of us (usual giant freaks in a region of the world filled with pint sized people) and offering food at every corner I jumped with glee at the sight of what looked like a suckling pig roasting on the fire but at closer inspection I recoiled with a mix of horror and acceptance of different cultural practices when I saw what usually sits on ones lap after a long walk and does whoof being basted with oil and spices.

Still I realised sadly that I was a bit hungry and we decided to stop at a corner bar and watch the world go by. We ordered a stir fry with fish (just in case!!!) and a coke as an attempt of prevention of food poisoning. 10 minutes later a guy arrived by scooter with a bag containing two Tupperware filled with what looked suspiciously like a stir fry and strange but true two plates appeared soon after...hmmm!

Who cares, it was good and filling! With a full stomach I started to relax and look around only to be miffed by the sight of a sign at the side of the cafe mentioning Internet and Wife.....

Not quite sure what this was about my endless analytical mind concocted within a second the idea of an internet dating service and I was immediately enraged by the fact it was only meant for men and did not take into consideration the need of women and people with other sexual preferences. I almost got on my usual soap box only to realise that the word was spelt incorrectly and that it was actually Internet Wifi service. I immediately deflated realising I did not have a war to start but laughed uncontrollably at the result of an over active mind in front of a misspelt word.