Dalat and Hanoi

So I left Ho Chi Minh City, very excited to escape to Dalat which is located in the highlands of south Vietnam. The bus trip was not six hours. It was ten (always add at least three hours onto what the tour bookers tell you). At least the bus was a bus, and not a ute. And I did get a seat by myself where I curled up into the smallest human ball imaginable. The road was really bumpy, or the driver was on crack, I don't know which. I have never been so relieved to get off a bus in my entire life. But I heard it takes over forty eight hours to get to Laos, so I obviously haven't experienced hell in its purest form yet. Dalat is one of the most beautiful places in Vietnam because: 1. It is clean. 2. You don't feel like you're suffocating when you step outside. 3. The mountains are like something out of a dream. The temperature is cool, but not cold cool. Just right. I actually got to use my legs and walk up hills. I visited the Summer Palace where the last members of the royal family went to vacation. A beautiful pagoda and a waterful. The embroidery gallery was not so exciting. On the 29th I flew to Hanoi. Hanoi is so different to Ho Chi Minh City. It doesn't smell like a sewer. The buildings have thousands of years of history and the streets are narrow, filled with interesting shops and people. I love it here. I would also love to post some photos that I took but alas, they were all WIPED AWAY by one of the mysteriously inept computers over here. A months worth of photos gone. At least I still have my passport. The first question I got when I arrived at the hostel was "Where your boyfriend? Why he no here?" I stared at the little Vietnamese lady, not knowing how the fuck to reply. "I'm travelling alone." She gave me a look that should be reserved for animals about to be put down. "Oh, I see," she said sadly. Today I went to Ho Chi Minh's final resting place. Of course you have to cover yourself up and if you were caught bringing a camera in there, I reckon there is a high possibility you would be shot. The guards are very scary, humourless people. You file in and theres no time to stand around gawking, they yell at you if you pause. If you ask me, I don't think the corpse was real. I am not particularly well acquainted with dead bodies, but it looked more like wax. The skin was sort of white. And the hair wasn't three dimensional. I remember his fingernails the most. They looked perfectly manicured. Apparently Ho Chi Minh never wanted a big spectacle when he died. He simply wanted to be cremated. But there was no chance of that happening. When I left the building, I noticed a Vietnamese woman crying behind me. I can understand why they love Uncle Ho so much. If it wasn't for Ho Chi Minh, there would be a Macdonalds on every corner of Saigon. I also saw Hanoi prison, which the French established in the late 1800s to stow away political dissidents. Some American soliders were also sent there during the war. All the photographs depict them smiling, laughing and playing basketball or cards, or receiving medical treatment. I don't know how the government really expect people to believe that the Vietnamese gave American P.O.W.s a holiday during their "temporary detainment". Getting a flight to Siem Reap tomorrow. I can't wait to see Cambodia. But I will miss Vietnam and the people here.