I haven't updated this for a while...two weeks actually. But next we went to Nha Trang, fab beach and night life. That's about all. The waves were insanely massive; we couldn't actually handle it and kept nearly drowning and being scraped along the sea shore - far less sophisticated than the eight year old girl next to us. I got back to the hotel, whipped off my bikini and filled the whole bath with the beach. Harry loved the waves however and spent four solid hours in the sea with Sam and I checking on him every ten minutes from our sun beds. This is where we parted ways with the old boy.

Next we headed for Dalat in the Central Highlands. When we first arrived we thought it was pretty weird, and got taken by a dodgy cab to what appeared to be a retirement home. We quickly left on the back of an old lady's moped and found a much more suitable hotel where we secured the Honeymoon Suite for $10. We found a delicious restaurant called Art Cafe (first one in the guide book), where we got wine for 60p and Sam gorged herself on pumpkin soup. We did look for some nightlife but it appeared to be non-existent so we retired early to our marital bed.

The next day we took an Easy Rider tour of the surrounding countryside. This was great fun. It basically means you get whipped around on the back of a motorbike by people named 'Ocean' and 'River'. Sam's helmet actually said 'Wahoo'. It was a good representation of the fun. We were taken to a silk factory, someone's living room which was apparently a broom making factory (they all stared at us in there), a coffee plantation and a questionable tea plantation. Here we gave each other sceptical looks as Ocean stopped at a literal hedge at the side of the road and asked us if we could smell the aromas. We could not. After a waterfall we visited a pagoda. I went off to find the 'Happy Buddha' and was alarmed when I returned to the spot where I had left Sam and couldn't find her. I searched high and low before coming to the irrational conclusion that the group of monks gathered around their 4x4 had kidnapped her and thrown her in the boot. After a lot of glaring at them, and even taking down their number plate, Sam popped up right as rain, merely having taken a visit to the loo at a very leisurely pace. I felt bad for the monks.

After this, Ocean and River lead us into a ramshackle looking building which turned out to be a restaurant, and had their friend lay on a delicious feast for us. Having bought us both a flower, Ocean appeared to have got the wrong end of the stick and serenaded Sam with 'My Heart Will Go On' (surprise surprise). We hopped back on the mopeds to be drenched to the bone in rain. It was ok though as Ocean was prepared and kitted Sam out in full waterproof gear, including trousers. I however was fine, stating 'I just love the rain, I'm Cornish'. It was an amazing experience flying along on a motorbike, just the four of us, around the stunning mountains and rainforests.

Next we headed for Saigon. We quickly decided we weren't the type for traipsing around with our enormous backpacks looking for a good deal, so ended up in what resembled a cell with no window or Air Con. That evening we were wondering around when we bumped into a couple of the guys we had met further up the coast. We spent the rest of our time in Saigon with them. We thought Hanoi had crazy traffic, it was nothing compared to Saigon. Here it was ridiculous. People actually drive straight at each other, willing the other one to move out of the way. Never get a taxi in Saigon.

We woke up early and headed for the Cu Chi tunnels. These are the tunnels built by the Viet Cong during the Civil War - many people died here in gruesome circumstances. However, it's hard to imagine the horror in what has been made into such a pleasant commercial environment. Firstly we had to squeeze ourselves into the tiniest secret hole and were shown the inhumane guerrilla warfare traps left for the Americans. It was a frazzling hot day, and at one point we were instructed to squeeze through 100 metres of underground tunnel, with no light or fresh air. These tunnels had been enlarged twice since the war but it was still a very tight squeeze. Sam escaped after twenty five metres but I did the whole lot. I came out looking my usual bright red self.

We also got the chance to shoot an AK-47. This was interesting but I got rather upset, when the reality that these incredibly powerful guns were used on real people sunk in. After already shedding tears, I carried on throughout the afternoon, weeping my way around the War Remnants Museum. It is a fascinating place but so harrowing. The images of torture and suffering are explicit and no information seems to have been withheld. We came away feeling exhausted and incredibly angry with the Americans.

We decided to get ourselves a stiff drink and had a really good night in the would-be capital city. I, in an 'I'm in Ibiza' moment climbed on the bar, but was quickly instructed to get down, especially as my head was inches from the ceiling fan. We both had another emotional time as songs from our childhood played out as we shot pool. For Sam, Billy Joel, for me, The Cranberries. After two hours sleep, we crossed the Cambodian border en route to Shianoukville.