After Hoi An, I headed back to Ho Chi Minh City with Matt, while Jimmy headed off to his own Da Nang adventures. This time, we booked The Hammock Hotel, which was slightly more luxurious, because we could. The theme of this trip was still food, so we had loads of it. Nothing special to write about really. The craft beers as well. It was good and we had it.

There was an interesting place where we had Com Tam away from district 1, where it was an old Vietcong hideout, and there were secret doors in closets for them to escape to the ground floor if someone came up to search for them. Like the Cu Chi Tunnels, this was really meant for the smaller sized guys. We would have just died, and it would have been a better option.

What really got me thinking was on the cab there, the driver drove through the small and narrow alleys of a crowded local market. People were just living their lives, not aware of the presence of an interloper (me). It really felt like I was getting a snapshot of the local lifestyle through a glass panel, like I was in an exhibition or safari. And each and every one of those people probably have a story of their own, a life more than I can ever emphatise with or imagine. And it struck me, stuck in the back of a small taxi, how big and varied the world actually was. It struck me so much that I wrote it down in my phone right there and then, and that is how I remember this shit now. Because once the Com Tam came, my mind stopped, and my mouth started working.

We also got our guitars that are super cool and well made and reasonably priced from the only shop at Guitar Street that spoke english to us. The shop is called Dai Viet. It has been my go to guitar when I pick it up and pluck a few chords for 2-3 minutes several times a week.

And because I really don’t know how to end this, after some time, we went home.