Hanoi

I thought it was about time I posted something here. It was Sepia's birthday yesterday, but I did not give her anything. This post could be her gift. Although it's extremely narcissistic for me to assume that a piece of my writing could act as a gift to her. Narcissism is something I'm not fond of. Something else I'm not fond of is not having direct personal access to the internet.

So essentially this post will be rushed. No time to discuss my recent trip to Vietnam, which was actually extremely amazing. At one point, I woke up while vomiting. Or perhaps to the sound of my own vomiting. I was, thankfully, turned away from the guys I was sleeping with. Sharing a room with. But I was directly facing my things. So I lost some clothes and a neck pillow thanks to my sleep-vomiting.

I tell everyone this story when they ask about my trip. For me, it was one of the most thrilling experiences. I didn't enjoy it. But it was amazing. After I'd finished vomiting all over my stuff, I ran to the bathroom to look for something to clean it up with/see if I needed to vomit more. But then I ran downstairs to see if anyone in the hotel staff was awake/had a mop or some kind of jazz. But no. I was on my own.

So I tried my best to clean up my own vomit, in the dark, quietly, without vomiting more. That's a lie - I did vomit more. I slept in the bathroom that evening, on the floor. With a pillow though, so it was good. But I kept getting up to throw up, and this sort of thing didn't stop until we'd taken a long, bumpy bus ride to Halong Bay, and my body was contented with covering not only my possessions, but also my hair and my seat of the bus, in what is now called Esmerelda.

I think it's worst if I talk about Vietnam in a sporadic, out of order manner. But that may be how it will go. This event occurred near the start of the trip, at apperently beautiful Hanoi. I can't remember too much of it's beauty, just it's heat. As well as my Esmerelda. Oh, and of course the lighter man who followed Darby up and down the city streets trying to sell him a lighter. In Australia, people walk INTO shops and decide slowly what they might buy. In the Socialist Republic of Vietnam, the shop spills out of it's building onto the street, and the shop assistant decides frantically what you will buy. I really don't remember much of Hanoi. But I may have gotten a little less than sober one night with the girls in Hanoi. Still being a bit sick, I was no fun, but they were. Patricia may or may not have terrified another one of the girls by discussing masturbation while humping the wall. These two girls were also. sorry, may have also been, sharing a bed, much to the terror of the second girl who I won't name because I'm trying to keep my friends a little anonymity.