The eagle has landed!

On the way to the hotel, in the hotel limo, greeted by an icy cold towel and bottled water.

Supposedly only 7 km away from the airport, but will take 40 minutes. "Traffic", my driver explains.

HCMC airport is spanking new, I got through immigration and picked up my luggage in 15 minutes.

Wow.

Many roadside hawkers with mystery food for sale!

Its a Sunday, the park is full of couples on benches, or groups of friends sitting in a circle on the grass.

Its right next to the heavily jammed road, I don't know how fresh the air can be.

Saigon has a very different feel to Hanoi.

I have always loved Hanoi; the weather, the liver pate and baguette, the old quarters and gentle people with restrained politeness.

Everywhere you looked, in Hanoi, you would see slim, long straight haired women in pristine white traditional dress.

That always made me smile, and sigh a happy little sigh.

I have been sitting here in the jam for the last half hour.

No smile, no happy little sigh.

Except marvel at the motorbikes weaving in and out of traffic- father, mother, son and daughter, all balanced precariously on one bike.

Oh dear, bike carrying baskets of melons just crashed into another bike carrying cartons of random goods.

No one is hurt, but melons are everywhere. Cracked open and crushed by other bikes and cars.

No one stops, the two riders pick up whatever they can salvage, and life goes on.

Still no smile, no happy little sigh.
(@BlackBerry)