The first days in Vietnam were conditioned by jetlag and the challenging emotions that naturally arise when one sets out on an adventure. Most of my time was taken up by practicalities like becoming familiar with the neighbourhood, paying for a SIM card to get internet access, finding the nearest supermarket or decent restaurant, and understanding the currency conversion—a sequence of actions I would repeat several times over in the eight months (and seven countries) that followed.

Ho Chi Minh City (abbreviated HCMC or referred to as Saigon) has close to 10 million people, the equivalent of Portugal’s population! The streets are bustling, and everyone gets around by scooter. In fact, the Vietnamese taxi apps include scooter pick-ups at about a quarter of the price of a car ride. Beeping is the omnipresent noise that makes up the city’s soundscape, and crossing the street can overwhelm even the fiercest of pedestrians!

One can also be the centre of those amusing situations: I was approached twice by strangers for a selfie and often stared at by smaller children half dazed; I thought such reactions would be confined to former times when there were few Westerners among Asians but even today, confronted with distinctive features like curly hair and almond-shaped eyes, locals remain curious and a bit in awe!

On another note, I found many good, modestly furnished typical restaurants. If in Europe they would raise the eyebrow of a potential customer over hygiene concerns or aesthetic considerations, in Asia they are just a regular place for both locals & foreigners to start the morning with some noodles at breakfast, an expression of the messy charm and distinctive habits of this part of the world. Fortunately, the average vegetarian meal didn’t exceed the equivalent of 3 euros, so my budget went a long way! My wallet felt rich, carrying multiple-digit bills like 500.000 dong (equivalent to 20 bucks), yet light, as coins aren’t in circulation.

After my first restful night of sleep under the new time zone, 7 hours ahead of Portugal, I gathered the energy to visit some of the city’s highlights, including the Independence Palace (and wartime headquarters), a sober, austere compound that blends modern and classical architecture, and China Town, with temples enveloped in incense fumes amidst precarious living blocks. However, nothing would compare to the labyrinthine, murky, and narrow streets adjacent to Bui Vien’s long stretch of bars and clubs, where a non-stop trashy and cacophonous nightlife goes on to see daylight.

Feeling accomplished with my first few days as a “stranger in a strange country” (and continent), using Paulo Coelho’s words, I grabbed my backpack and headed to the airport. Eventually, I would reduce the length of my stay in Asia’s capital cities as they consistently left me feeling somewhat oppressed with their millions of inhabitants, skyscrapers defying the limits of nature, and the contrast between the business centres and the residential neighbourhoods.