Hanoi is a blur of mopeds and horns blaring. Roads are crossed amidst a throng of speeding, overloaded, Honda Dreams by refusing to face the traffic and walking slowly across the road. Dave Prowse would be turning in his grave if he was dead, and watching children get eaten up by hungry taxis. It didn’t help that we arrived here after failing to sleep recently. Bangkok seemed a better place to celebrate my 30th than Hanoi, even if I did have to wait until midnight to start the action. But after dispensing of the formalities – taking Bangkok virgin Joe to a show involving women bathing in enormous champagne glasses, we got to go to Long Gun. Long Gun is my favourite club in the world. Its based on Soi Cowboy, and appropriately enough has a Wild West theme. Its good for dancing, cocktails and meeting fans of Americana, and they even played ‘The Final Countdown’ when we bought the DJ a drink.

Nuff respect to Jim and Wan for ensuring that we managed to eat something before we staggered off to the next club at about 2am. The idea of going to bed seemed churlish given that our flight left at midday the following day. So it got a bit messy, and the B52s flowed to such an extent that we had to pass on trying a B54 when we arrived bleary-eyed the next day at the plush 5 star hotel in Hanoi. Maybe if I can get CPR on my liver, I’ll discover them soon. After I try the snake wine…