And the other thing about Singapore that’s different to Vietnam – the kids man. I was in a glass tunnel watching divers feed sharks earlier. They were pathetic sharks really – not big teeth, and letting the diver pet and cuddle them, but it was good to see lots of fish again. I even recognise some of them still. But the kids. Arrgh. They shout all the time in their spoilt brat stuccato English. Perhaps its the hangover, or the acoustics of a perspex tunnel, but they really should see to them with spearguns. In Vietnam, the kids seemed quieter, still liking to play and have fun, but without the yelling.

Another thing that sticks in the mind about Vietnam is that the food places were run much more intimately. You could sit and chat to the owners and tenders. The toilet would also be the family and staff toilet for the concrete shell, so you’d see toothbrushes in the room. I never counted less than ten toothbrushes in each one. Haven’t seen any toothbrushes in Singapore toilets yet.

And the road in Singapore may have holes, but I haven’t hit one yet. As for Vietnam, the holes sometimes had bits of road between them. If they were lucky.

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