Rach Gia

We had booked 4 seats in a minibus for the 7hr trip but the driver insisted on trying to squeeze us into 3. We compromised and adults took turns in the front seat between ‘drives’ and his ticket collector buddy. The ride was worthy of Alton Towers but without the safety measures. We reached speeds of 130 kmh on less than perfect roads and both carriageways were fair game including verges. We stopped for a decent seafood noodle soup lunch for £2 including drinks for the whole family and soon after caught the ferry across the Mekong. At this point our wannabe Michael Schumacher, with added potbelly and stubble, seemed to chill out a bit and cruise the last 60km in as many minutes. Incidentally this was the longest uninterrupted straight road/village I’ve ever seen – the Romans were amateurs.

We were kindly dropped off at our Kim Co hotel, the best in town, at £6 a double room. We splashed out and booked two. Typically Karen and Ruby’s room had rats – shit happens and it had done all over the lovely lino. The other ‘boy’s’ room was fine so we settled down to a double header of Man U v Arsenal + Chelsea v Man City (6-0 you beauty) and re-enacted the day’s rallying with Harley’s ever-growing car collection during the breaks – job done. Call me a 'flashpacker' if you will but if Rach Gia is unspoilt I prefer spoilt. A tourist around here is about as common as mating Jabiru as the plane from Saigon to Phu Quoc is only 40 minutes and about $40 but it was booked up so ‘tant pis’. After wandering for an hour with no sign of restaurant or bar we ended up back near the hotel @ Valentine’s restaurant. Our fellow diners looked exceedingly well travelled as did the chicken but the pork was ok for the kids and the seafood soup fine, although I’m glad I didn’t have a list of ingredients.

Next morning we keenly boarded the first boat out to Phu Quoc island @ 8am. Karen had cunningly topped up our Absolut vodka with lemon juice 1:1 and chilled it overnight so it seemed a shame to let it warm up. We polished off the whole bottle by 8.30am by which time our chosen boat with the porn star name ‘Super Dong’ was ploughing a furrow through the 6ft waves undaunted and unslowed. This caused semi-seismic shock waves to the stomach and turned our recently consumed beverage into a vodka martini. 3 bumpy hours later we arrived at An Thoi at the southern tip of Phu Quoc shaken but not stirred…