Splitting the last five days between Mui Ne and Ho Chi Minh City has been a study in contrasts.

Let's start with Mui Ne. A small, beach side town on the southern coast, Mui Ne often gets skipped on the tourist trail from Nha Trang to HCMC. Drawn by the sand and surf, and the prospect of breaking up an 8 hour bus trip, I decided to spend a few days. An avid windsurfer, Jochen was more than happy to join me. We got into town in the afternoon and not much later had found a place on the beach for $5. As you enter town, a unique landscape greets you. First you pass through hillsides blanketed by bright, multicolored tombs. Then, as you wind your way down to the water, you see, on one side of the road, large, white and red sanddunes, and on the other, a palm tree lined beach hugging the Pacific.

As you can imagine, the three days I spent here were relaxing ones. The main road is dotted with resorts and guesthouses ranging from 5 star to 5 dollars. You already know which end of the spectrum I was staying in. Never-the-less, the experience was excellent. With a restaurant, bar, bungaloes, and a nice little strip of beach, there wasn't really much reason to stray far from where we were staying. I fought the urge to totally vegetate, and rented a motorbike to cruise the coastline.

My first stop was the Fairy Spring: a lush, but extremely shallow river that runs down to the ocean from a set of waterfalls a couple of kilometers inland. I parked the bike and started walking towards the source in water not much deeper than my ankles. One bank of the river is formed by the sund dunes for which Mui Ne is famous. On the other, banana plants, palm trees, and other tropical vegetation thrives. Something else which thrives in this area is children. Throngs of local kids flow up and down like the water around their feet, most carrying food, drinks, and decks of cards. When I reached the rather disappointing waterfalls, they were all around me. Scattered everywhere from the little pools of water, to the sloping sanddunes, to the patches of shade offered by the the palms trees. Many were playing cards (and, from what I could tell, gambling). It looked like a teenage utopia where everyone went to escape their parents. Those seeking a tranquil, secluded waterfall might have found this scene disappointing but, to me, it was intriguing. A much better place to spend one's free time than at a mall. The more outgoing kids approached me to practice their English and indulge their curiousity in the foreigner in their midst. Their interest was genuine and untainted by the desire to make a quick buck. Although a few of them did ask me to give them my ear-rings. The $5 each I requested seemed to be out of their price range.

My next stop was a nearby fishing village. I could smell it before I could see it. A result of the huge clay pots filled with fish oil, a local speciality. Sitting in a bend at the far end of the beach, the village was buzzing with activity. As I rolled through I could see people processing last night's catch and preparing the nets for the multitude of fishing boats lying at anchor in the water. The beach front was littered with all the debris generated by the village. That, and the permeating stink of fish oil, aided my decision to hit the road.

I had the bike until 4:30pm so I decided to make the most of my remaining time. I drove down along the water and up into the local hills which offered a panoramic view of the ocean and the surrounding towns.

The evenings in Mui Ne don't warrant much description: eating dinner, drinking beers, playing cards, watching the sunset for half and hour, and otherwise recovering from a day of doing not too much.

The next day Jochen and I and few other travelling companions of late (Tom-UK, Lily-Australia, Ida-Sweden, Revital-Israel), made our way down to the beach front of Jibe's Cafe. Jibe's seems to have the local market cornered on surfing. windsurfing, and kitesurfing equipment rental. It also has some of the nicest, and not surprisingly busiest, beachfront. I ruled out kitesurfing and windsurfing (for cost and inexperience factors), and surfing (for unsuitable wave conditions), and settled for a boogie board at the rate of $2 for the afternoon. Tom and I spent a few hours in the surf trying to catch the incoming waves at the perfect spot that would allow us to ride them all the way into the sand. We failed more often than we succeeded but it was still a great time. Back on the beach we watched the many windsurfers (Jochen among them) and kitesurfers with a little envy, and then stayed as the dying sun painted the sky with surreal shades of pink, yellow, orange, and red.

It was a blissful few days on the beach and now it's over.

Yesterday I arrived in Saigon. Technically, Ho Chi Minh City but the main district is called Saigon, a name which is often applied to the whole city. Whatever you choose to call it, it's a huge change from Mui Ne. The motorcycle traffic in Saigon puts Hanoi to shame. The bus dropped us off on Pham Ngu Lao in the early evening. Jochen, Ida, and I picked one of the countless budget hotels on the street and found a room with three beds and two fans for $8. The rent doesn't split cleanly three ways but the proprietors of the guesthouse didn't buy that as a reason to give use the room for $6.

The area is a self contained backpacker land similar to Bangkok's Kho San Road. Everything you need, from bars to restaurants to internet cafes to souvenir shops, is at your doorstep. Of course, spending all of your time here would mean missing all the other attractions the city has to offer. With that in mind, I spent my first full day wandering the streets on foot.

Walking around, guidebook in hand, made me a prime target for moto and cyclo drivers touting rides around town. It's fortunate I have plenty of experience blowing them off because I had to do it today more times than I can count. I didn't visit any museums or major attractions. Just strolled and sucked up scenery. Saigon is a place where the honking and beeping of a million motorcycles echoes through streets lined by luxury hotels like the Caravelle and the Sheraton. Old world charm meets New World Order on boulevards lined by lush, drooping trees and glowing corporate billboards. The smells wafting from market food stalls, the insane traffic which tests your reflexes and your nerves, the girls on the street whose winks and smiles tell you that the 'full body massage' probably lives up to its name, the architecture which ranges from French Colonial to Ultra-modern, all combine to make Saigon a feast for the senses. And that's just my first impression. I'll let you know how she's treating me in a few days.

This video shows an example of the organized chaos that is traffic in Saigon: