The journey is just as good as the destination.

The rain was flooding down from the heavens, one second in it would completely saturate you. I was waiting for my bus to Dalat. Please come after the rain has relented, I hoped. Of course, it didn't, the unreliable minibus services of Vietnam only arrive on time when you least want them to. I grabbed my bags and splashed down the road to the bus parked 15 meters away (why?) and clambered onto the bus soaked through but smiling at the other equally drenched passengers. Mui Ne boasts the lowest average rainfall on the coast of Vietnam, or something like that, I think the last few days have used up their quota. I was happy to be leaving.

I found a seat on the already cramped minibus while my sodden backpack was thrown into the aisle with the others, one guy screaming 'my camera is under that', to no avail. On the back seat of the bus sat two very attractive Europeans, as the bus set off so too did their conversation. They babbled away in a language I couldn't quite pick.  The guy was inexplicably leaning forward over my seat as he spoke seemingly never taking a breathe and completely ignoring the fact that he was basically yelling in my ear. I slammed my Vikram Seth novel upside down on my lap and grumpily stared out the window, Seth's books always have so many characters you really have to concentrate at the beginning to remember all the names and how they are related. Bloody Europeans, I was thinking, if I could understand what they were satying it might be more interesting, but then again I doubted it- his tone gave me the impression he was one of those know it all lecturing type men that anyone who knows me would know I don't care for. They are probably Finns, I laughed to myself, I havn't met any yet but these two were likely.

I was in a grumpy mood for reasons I couldn't explain, I think it was because I had been in the same place for too long.

Another French man got on the bus, stumbled over the backpack strewn aisle, sat beside the couple and cheerily asked where they were from. 'Finland', they shrilled in unison. I could barely hold back my laughter. I buried my face in my book. Suddenly I was much happier. Then things started looking up, althogh the couple would not stop talking the entire 5 hour journey, the road to Dalat was so rundown and covered in enormous potholes and the bus was so old and rattly that soon enough their voices were drowned out. Then a Vietnamese father and son got on the bus, the only two seats were beside me and one across the aisle. The boy timidly sat down, scared of the foreigner, but in his hands he held a large plastic softdrink bottle with holes punched into the sides. On closer inspection I realised it contained a lizard or iguana or some such reptile. He pulled it out and let me hold it and pet it. Still, I didn't like its chances of making the journey, a couple of times we would hit major holes on the road ad I nearly hit the roof twice (note: the lizard was alive when I last saw it).

All this wetness and chatter and lizard holding had occupied me so much that when I finally looked out the window we were driving up through mountains. No more sand and prickly pears. Everything was green and smelt delicious. We passed a number of artificial reservoirs and hydro elctric facilities, drove through mist for half an hour and finally emerged looking out across beautiful green mountains. OUr scheduled lunch stop was along a stretch of road on one of these mountains, I curiously looked around for the shanty cafe we would always stop at and realised there was none. Girls started beating their way behind bushes to pee while guys just dropped their pants and pissed on the side of the road. Then we were off.

Another hour and a half and we were driving through pine forests. It smelt even better, then suddenly we bounced over a hill and Dalat was in front of us. The city is filled with French Style Villas, triangular roofs create the skyline which, of course, gives it a very rural france (never been there), swiss alps (never) mixed with vietnam. Dalat was the playground for the French when they held court here. Apparently it was the perfect spot to remind them of home while also escaping the scorching temperatures along the coast. To me so far it is beautiful and cheap. Today I am hiring a scooter to explore the surrounding villages and waterfalls. Photos coming soon.