I enjoy the street banter in Saigon. Cyclo drivers can be particularly fun. They’ll spot you on the pavement, with family entourage in tow, and beckon you over to their rickety mobile contraption.
Seemingly oblivious to your own counter gestures – where you shake your head and point incredulously to your two children, their buggies and the assortment of other luggage that you seem to have accumulated walking down the street – they will be undeterred, remaining all smiles and nods and encouraging hand gestures.
What I love is that you know, one way or another, that the guy would get you all on his cyclo if you gave him half the chance. He’d make it work, despite the ludicrous sight that would unfold, and aside from the rather precarious health and safety minefield you’d be stepping into in the proceedings. Continue reading