Who she mean?

Cambodia, farewell!
The border crossing went without any hassle, and soon I treaded on visited country #37*. With the letters all of a sudden being more or less latin and the addition of people wearing pointy straw hats, it was easy to establish that we were now in another country, namely Vietnam.
The capitol Ho Chi Minh City, or rather the locally and more traditional Saigon, is a bustling city of nine million people, all driving scooters. The urban planning is not as disastrous as in other south east asian cities, but the population explosion and subsequent crowdedness has left the once majestic colonial boulevards and the french architecture in a state of decay.
The vastness of the city, as well as the meandering of the Saigon River, can be seen from Saigon Skydeck on Bitexco financial tower. With excellent binoculars and strategically placed touchscreen information screens, the observation platform is one of the best I've experienced.
But to get closer to the actual city, one has to walk, or rather, take a cyclo tour. After an icecream by the river, we climbed aboard the vehicle so typical for Vietnam. The seldom-trodded (by tourists) sidewalks swooshed** past as we took in the local atmosphere (and traffic pollution) on our way to the local good-luck hindu/buddha temple. My meditative state was interrupted though, by an old lady amusedly inquiring (by means of pointing and various facial expressions) about my little beagle-shaped mascot.
The days in HCMC were days of endings and of beginnings. The first leg out of three was over, and before Chris, Sandra, Michael, Matthew, Chez, Phil and Alann signed off for other adventures (some, admittedly, involving flying back home to cold Europe) we had a farewell dinner, followed by drinks at the rooftop terrace of the Rex, with a decent view of the busy city.
The view is better from the rooftop terrace of the nearby Sheraton, though.
Even though a slogan sometimes used is 'Vietnam - a country, not a war', there's no denying that the many wars that have wreaked havoc here over the past 100 years is clearly imprinted in the collective minds of the Vienamese people. Therefore, a visit to the War remnants museum is more or less a must. The horrifying stories and the even more horrifying photographs tell a cruel story, but one that needs to be told.
Silently contemplating the dark past and missing the lost co-travellers, one must not forget that Ho Chi Minh City also offered a new beginning, in the shape of the new gang that were to join Kim, Trev, Val, Isa and me throughout Vietnam: Granma-mum-daughter-trio Joan, Donna and Jackie from Oz, Scottish couple Mhari and Kevin, senior Norwegian Björg and German Annika, all led by local tourleader Tuyen.
*) Does that include Sweden? Yes.
**) Swooshed is perhaps a big word for the roughly 9,5 kph we were hauled around at