I can’t tell you how terrifying the trip in the little rickshaw was. It felt as if I was being ploughed right into the oncoming traffic and turning right or left was no picnic either. The itinerary said we would see the old quarter with its architecture, diversity of products and everyday life of its inhabitants. Did they mean the huge lorry tyres right next to me and the carbon monoxide fumes from the coach we were following? It’s also tricky to see the beautiful sights with your eyes tightly shut. But I did get a couple of shots in a sudden break in the traffic.
I survived in time to be taken off to the Museum of Ethnology.
I whisked round the inside of the Museum but it was rather sparse with not a lot to see and leaving DH puzzling over a piece of fossilized wood went for a walk in the grounds. Now this was something different.
The various tribes from all over Vietnam had been invited to come and build a traditional house in the grounds and these were amazing. At the risk of being taken down off the internet, I’m including a few pics of the funeral constructions in the firm belief this is art and not that other thing – it’s all to do with fertility in the afterlife – though you would think some of us get plenty of it in this life.
The finale that day was a visit to a water puppet show – absolutely amazing. I was bouncing up and down in my seat a) trying to take photographs, much to the disgust of the people sitting behind me – don’t you just hate it when selfish people do that? And b) trying to figure out how they did it. The dialogue was a little lost on us as our Vietnamese wasn’t up to all the long words yet – we’d just learned please, thank you and good morning – but it didn’t stop our enjoyment even if we hadn’t a clue what was going on and why other members of the audience were rolling around with tears streaming down their cheeks. Was that a sad bit?
Well Sarah had to overstep the mark right? I mean it’s not done to tell your sovereign queen to shut up, or mention loudly that her hands were dirty and smelly. No, Sarah had to go, so she was sent packing back to her little cottage in the country
with only a Walmart discount card and a pre-paid phone for her years of service. Oh, and did I mention a pension of £4,000 a year – which is a tad more than the British old age pension is today. She must have been in a good area for the National Health Service as she only checked out when she was 80.
And what of Queen Anne – she just got fatter and fatter.
A weeny plug for my new release? http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01DPVB4M8 on pre-order, so why not be one of the first to read it?
Between now and publication day on Thursday I’ll post snippets to introduce you to Snow White and Harold and the Green Giant.