OLD BAG and THE BIKE

Probably my greatest fear when going to Vietnam was the fact that Tony's transport consisted mainly of a motorbike and that his visitors were carted around on the back of it.

I had seen the traffic congestion on his blog so, at 67, and never having been on the back of a motorbike even in the quiet country roads around Cootamundra, I was concerned.

When I arrived Tony had been in KL for a few days and the bike wouldn't start - I began to thank whoever/whatever is in charge of these miracles whilst pretending to Tony that it was such a shame.

Then, as with most things in life when things are starting to get too good to be true, the motorbike spluttered into life and I was thrown a helmet - well named: HELL MET which could mean that this was the day I would find out if hell did actually exist.

After donning this tight equipment, which always seemed to knock my glasses off my head or damage my ears on the way through, I gingerly took my position on the back.

It was impossible not to indicate my fear to Tony as he took off at what I was to discover in the days ahead quite a conservative and considerate speed for the old bag, because both my legs and arms were clutching him so tightly it was a wonder he could operate this ugly monster.

For most of the ride into the Old Quarter, where I was being gratefully dropped as he had to go back to work, I had my eyes closed because whenever I opened them my heart nearly stopped with traffic/pedestrians/buses/trucks/cyclists/hawkers coming at us from any direction be it from behind, in front, left or right.

I am not sure how I dismounted but I do remember my legs feeling like jelly and it had nothing to do with jetlag.

However my hatred of the bike didn't continue for long as each time I was plonked on the back I became braver. This started out with both hands hanging onto the thingy on the back and I realised that this was really better as I wasn't jerking the rider as he was navigating through the chaos. I progressed then to holding on with one hand on the back, then none, then lighting a smoke, then looking up directions in our Lonely Planet. Finally I was able to watch the scenery and traffic with an air of normality which I could never have guessed would happen in just a couple of weeks.

In fact I admit that it was disappointing that we needed to catch a cab to the airport because of my luggage. I think I would have downsized to a smaller case that we could carry on the bike just to have a last ride.