Those of you we talked to before our journey might remember: there’s a bit of an autobiografic aspect to this trip… As a child I had a Vietnamese friend who lived in our block of flats. After having lost his leg (I think he was 14 when I got to know him) in the war, he was flown out by a German support Organisation and then adopted by a German Couple who lived upstairs from us.

Obviously, visiting the „War Remnants Museum“ put a few things into context. I very much remember how vividly he hated the Americans – quite puzzling for me as an 11-year-old. Looking at the images and stories to be found in the museum no big surprise, really.

Apart from that, excellent food, amazing encounters, too much noise.