23/5/25
It was an enjoyable lie in. Frankie always found this easy, sleep came easily to her. Jonathan persevered and received an extra couple of bouts of shuteye. When we finally got up we discovered that the Netflix account we’d been using had been logged out. They’d discovered us. Damn. For a second we entertained just buying our own, it’s Vietnam so it must be cheap. It was £9.50 though.
It was furiously raining outside. Looking the forecast suggested it would let up in the afternoon, but the rest of the week it was set to rain everyday at some point.
We’d arrange to meet up with Seb, a friend from the caving tour. We met at about 1pm at the cheap Pho place for breakfast. A quick bowl of tofu, noodles and broth and we all headed towards Hoa Lo prison. Still in the rain.
We made a pit stop to collect Frankie’s new glasses. Hung bent the arms back over Frankie’s ears and fixed her old glasses. Horrified at the old pair being placed in a plastic bag he even gifted her a second new case. What a kind man.
The prison was another 15 minutes of navigating the interface of slippy pavements and moronic driving. The number of times we were essentially driven or ridden into was exhausting. The prison was a noticeably reinforced structure. Our tickets were 50k Dong each. A veritable bargain. When we went inside we were soon funnelled into a room selling audio guides for 100k. Tripling the price of the ticket. We all decided not to bother.
After we went inside all we could see were audio guide symbols. Thankfully we found some boards. The prison had been built on the site of a village by the French to imprison the rebellious communist Vietnamese. They’d been subjected to harsh conditions. The prison had later been used by the Vietnamese to imprison American pilots, including John McCain. They’d been treated very nicely however. Or so the exhibits told us. It was a mildly interesting place but not overly fascinating.
We kept thinking (semi-wishing) it was over, especially after we raced through the gift shop. but the cell blocks continued. We saw a classic French guillotine and spent some time in a cell. It was a peaceful place. For us at least! We discussed the role of wars in drawing a country together. ‘Theirs’ was 25 years later than ‘ours’. It would surely wear off and they would be left with the same problems of identity that now afflicted the UK.
When it was over we walked back via the bakery and picked up some baguettes. We’d invited Seb back for a homemade meal. So we got some tofu and vegetables. Jonathan fried up the tofu, evading the splashes of hot oil. Frankie prepared the salad and Seb sliced the vegetables. We ate together at the table, a first for us. Conversation came easily. Seb had a familiar sense of humour. Discussion varied between language, politics and careers.
The parcel that we were awaiting came up to. Jonathan struggled to resist constantly refreshing the status. The delivery time had been pushed back. The confusing saga of DHLs services and subsidiaries continued to perplex us. It was somehow transferred from ‘eCommerce’ to ‘express’. Hopefully a good thing. After Seb left we watched an episode of Sirens. Accompanied by chia seed pudding and some nuts.
Surly They Won't Make It 