Why does it always seem to throw it down at border crossings? We’ve not been out of our mode of transport for more than 30 seconds with all our bags and, on queue the heavens opened and we were sodden. This is not like a aspirational rain storm like in Blighty, but a full on dump of hundreds of millions of gallons of water!

Anyhow, doing the regular dance with border crossing “officialdom” (you see it everywhere don’t you)  ergo (don’t step over the line!, don’t smoke,don’t smile in a “leary” or disrespectful fashion, don’t make any jokes about nefarious insurgent activity), all so tedious.( I think that you will have guessed that I’m much animated by men in sparkly uniforms and epaulettes that occupy positions of absolute authority  at border crossings.) We were allowed in.

Got into town  early evening and settled into our accommodation at the Jasmin Hotel in downtown  Hanoi. Went out for a stroll around the lake and took in the “jaded elegance” of the old French colonial buildings and frontages of a time gone by.


Then to bed as we planned a trip out to Halon Bay.