Get out while you can!
I told you facebook was evil... check out this anti-Facebook propaganda titled Does what happens in the Facebook stay in the Facebook?

Yes, is the quick answer, which is the problem, don't you see?

Haven't got this wound up about something since those blasted Crocs hit Hanoi. Thankfully that fad seems to have eased off despite the fact you can - so I hear – get fake ones in Sunny Saigon.

Young wayward lovers on the run? An online newspaper reports that the people of Luc Son, a mountainous commune in Bac Giang province, are still scratching their heads over why T. V. H., Chairman of the Communal People’s Committee, husband of one and father of two, suddenly dropped everything and disappeared with no explanation. On the same day, another official, who just happens to be a woman, in charge of cultural and information affairs in the same locality also disappeared. Now I am no Sherlock Holmes, nor was meant to be, but that can’t be a coincidence. Someone should check the Nha Nghi in the next province, says me.

Football is coming to Vietnam. And Malaysia, Indonesia and Thailand too. The AFC Asian Cup 2007 is split between the four regional rivals who will be all doing well to climb out of their respective groups, despite home advantage.

This is Vietnam's group: Group B: Vietnam, Japan, Qatar, UAE

Pretty mammoth task to get out of it. But the Pittstop team will be rooting for them all the way. Check out the fixtures here, all Vietnam and other group B games are in My Dinh Stadium in Hanoi.

If, if, if Vietnam were to finish second they'd play the winner of Group A, which could very well be none other then the Sunny Australian Socceroos (with Viduka, Cahill, Kewell et al making the trip). That would be tres grande. Winner of group B plays second place in group A.

Group A
1 Thailand
2 Australia
3 Oman
4 Iraq

Here's the other groups:

Group C
1 Malaysia
2 IR. Iran
3 Uzbekistan
4 China PR

Seems pretty tricky for Malaysia to get out of that one, but this looks like what the pundits will be referring to as the group of CAI CHET!

Group D
1 Indonesia
2 Korea Republic
3 Saudi Arabia
4 Bahrain



Thanks to the Rastall-Man for the tip off

Peer pressured into Facebook

At first I thought this article was written by a kindred spirit but alas – et tu Davin? - the writer is sucked in, though he retains his suspicions.

"Friends were appalled, yes appalled, that I wasn't yet on Facebook. It was as if, with every day of brave resistance, I was becoming fainter to them, a less complete acquaintance, remembered only in dusty photos (printed, not digital) and an increasingly unused number in their phone's address book. For fear of becoming entirely transparent to them I relented, and went through the online hazing that is Facebook registration." writes Davin O'Dwyer in the Irish times (subscription only I'm afraid).

He also says:
"And despite the explosion of these sites, a research paper last year concluded that social isolation is on the rise in the US - the average American has fewer friends now than 20 years ago. How many people are being duped into thinking their social circle is as vibrant as ever, just because they can keep up with the latest antics of their acquaintances with ease?"

And: "China will ban Facebook and Bebo, not to restrict political dissent, but to stay economically competitive.

On the other hand, Facebook is a surveillance state's dream come true.

Intelligence agencies spend vast resources trying to spy on their citizens, only for huge numbers of people to relinquish voluntarily their own privacy online. Is it any wonder civil rights campaigners are finding it difficult to arouse broad concern over diminishing rights to privacy? These days, it seems, privacy is for when you're going to the toilet; everything else is in the public sphere."

This article is from the Guardian last month on "the Dark Side of Facebook".

He talks about the site being used by political parties in the UK - all very well though he expresses concern that "The British National party has recently developed a number of presences on the system..." though amusingly enough, as I said previously you can end up as "friends" with people you don't even like on Facebook, one user points out an even greater irony to a BNP chap: "Let me add this up. You guys hate Jews yet you're on a Jew's networking site?"

In general according to Professor Michael Geist this political use of Facebook is no bad thing: "Is there really no benefit to have government policy makers access and participate in the hundreds of groups discussing Ontario health care issues? Would it be so bad for elected officials to actually engage with their constituents in a social network environment?

The attempts to block Facebook or punish users for stating their opinions fails to appreciate that social network sites are simply the internet generation's equivalent of the town hall, the school cafeteria, or the workplace water cooler - the place where people come together to exchange both ideas and idle gossip."

And lastly on the Beeb this article by Rory Cellan-Jones offers advice on how to make friends on networking sites for the over-40s. He now has a Facebook-group named after him - Befriend Rory Cellan Jones.

You will NEVER BE LONELY AGAIN! EVER!

So everyone's writing about it and on the Hanoi-campus everyone's still talking about it but Teddy de Burca is holding out!

There goes the neighbour's house
There's a few written and unwritten rules about neighbourly conduct - you know yourself: don't covet your neighbour's wife, try not to shit on their doorstep, keep the music down after midnight and ... um... never try to demolish his house when he's at work.

This last one happened at the end of last year in Hanoi after a row over land between two neighbours. One was so pissed off he paid a gang to come round with pickaxes and hammers and start smashing up the neighbour's gaff.

The case has just been in the courts with the naughty neighbour, a female copper and a bunch of ne'er do wells all going down for playing a part in huffing-and-puffing and blowing the poor fella's house down. Well half of it.

The ex-copper got 15 months. She got paid off by the neighbour to turn a blind eye, then paid off by the gang's leader to turn the other blind eye, then by the neighbour's brother to try and get his brother cleared.

She then paid a guy to PRETEND he was the guilty party (sounds like pretty daft career move by the faking-scapegoat) to get the neighbour off the hook but he obviously didn't perform so well as the investigating cops smelled a rat (spotted the said copper's new Honda@ in the parking lot per chance?) and it all came out in the wash.

Property disputes here can kick off over a matter of inches, someone builds an annex that encroaches on the neighbour's house or even someone leaves a motorbike in front of their neighbour's house and suddenly there's a dogfight. Obviously reacting by trying to knock someone's house down is a tad extreme.

Makes coveting the neighbour's wife/ husband a petty misdemeanour in comparison.

So don't feel so bad about it, alright?

Me and my minsk
The mucho-talented Julian Abram Wainwright's portraits of a bunch of Minsk-riders are up here.

The shots were taken in the woods at Thac Da where the Minsk Olympics were held - around 200 punters came this year and we had a right auld knees up. There's a few more photos courtesy of the Doctor here - of the football, party and Comrade Struggle event.

Thanks to the lads for all the hard work, in particular Dan Daiquiri of Highway4 and the CAMA Soundsystem boys and girls.

Last month's picture of the month is up at Pittstop's Vietnamese mucker's blog Life as a Comfortable Loser.

Don't be fooled by the name, the pic is a winner.

Teddy de Burca Jnr.'s thought for the day
Just what the hell is going on with Facebook? I can answer that question for you, if you like – IT’S TAKING OVER THE WORLD.

Invented by a Harvard University drop-out (a la Bill Gates) originally as a tool to keep alumni in touch for the rest of their lives – so you can see your old class chums age, slowly but surely, year after year – it has now become the most popular new web service combining various features from email, Myspace, Friendster and Flickr into one.

All very well for catching up with old friends or hooking up with your friends' friends, if that’s your bag, but do fellow Hanoians really need to join it or invite each other to be members when we’re living in the same city, especially considering the campus-like atmosphere that already exists amongst the expat community. Most oddly, people who don’t even like each other in real life can be friends in Facebook.

After signing up and signing in I was thrown off by the rather twee business of “poking” (grabbing someone’s attention?), updates on people’s moods (Frank is having a coffee and thinking about having some toast), writing on friends walls (Teddy de Burca wuz here), online unions (Jack and Jill are now friends!), your profile (Richard likes water sports, girls with a sense of humour and getting caught in the rain) and the parade of look-at-me-ness – look at me I’m sultry, look at me I’m wacky, look at me I’m having f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-un at my birthday party, you can tell because we’re all wearing silly hats!

Terrified, I deactivated my account after five minutes. But now I’m left out of conversations in the real world as people meet up and chat about Facebook and what photos have been posted as now rather than emailing photos people just upload them to Facebook or else they talk about who just “joined the community”. One of us, one of us, one of us…

So by opting out of this creepy online social network I’ve ostracised myself. I’m not sure if I’m the fool who didn’t believe in emails and said that the art of letter writing would never die or the guy who didn’t go blind before the attack of the Triffids.

I’m banking on the latter and that everyone in Facebook is being brainwashed and will perish in the not-too-distant future. Meanwhile if anyone’s up for a non-Facebook related conversation (or perhaps even forming a resistance movement) I’ll be at the bia hoi – I might even bring an old shoebox full of photos, write a few postcards or send a letter to the Prussian consulate in Siam by aeromail or am I too late for the 4:30 autogyro?

See y’all round campus.


Bonus extra
The Guardian's Charlie Brooks' rant against facebook

Gaelic games come to Vietnam

The Asian Gaelic Games are to be held in Singapore this year from June 23rd - 24th.



There's been a Vietnamese Gaelic football team assembled, which is currently four weeks into a gruelling eight week training (and learning the rules) programme. They haven't a chance at winning but they'll be dressed to impress and sure I personally just want to see the Sling factories where those fancy cocktails come from. Though I'm a bit concerned most of our team will be arrested for bad habits they've picked up, such as smoking anywhere you like or hurling used napkins and chicken bones onto the floor, driving the wrong down a street with no helmet while texting your friends, who you left back in the pub.

After all - Singapore is famous for scrupulously clean surroundings and a very strict administration


Hmmm, not two things which are high on my "why-I-would-travel-to-another-country" list but ...well, this is the kind of sacrifice I will make for my country and Vietnam.

Here's a press release written by Pittstop Public Relations team.

A brief history of the Viet Celts' brief history

Previously in Vietnam the word 'ga' with a falling tone might have meant chicken or with no tone at all 'station' but now the scholars will have to make room in the local dictionary for a new entry - GAA (Gaelic Athletic Association) as Gaelic Football has landed in Vietnam and although not too many people know it, the very-recently formed Viet Celts are about to change sport in the land of Ho Chi Minh… possibly forever!

In what will surely be known as a hinge of history in years to come, one minute a motley bunch of Vietnam-based expats were drinking beer, smoking cigarettes and talking about – of all things – cricket, the next they, and a couple of unsuspecting local Hanoi lads, had been presented with an opportunity to join the Viet Celts Gaelic Football team. All they had to do was remember or learn how to play Gaelic football and travel to Singapore to represent Vietnam in the Asian Gaelic Games.

Bemused onlookers at the inaugural training session will no doubt never forget the day four 'Ong Tay' (foreign gents) stood in a circle punching a football to each other. Despite the meagre turnout a seed had been planted and the word started to spread. Dreams grew and eyes twinkled with thoughts of what may come to pass and the excitement manifested itself in a bunch of slightly humorous emails. The next Sunday a score of would-be players arrived and passing motorbikes that slowed down by the Thuy Loi pitch would have had the privilege of witnessing the first ever Gaelic Football game played in Vietnam, not that they necessarily would have realised what was going on when people were being congratulated for punting the ball ten feet over the crossbar.

Colm "At the end of the day, I'm the Gaffer" Ross, threw the imported-with-no-expense-spared-O'Neills' ball into the air and the Viet-Celts sprang into action. Four minutes later, slowly evaporating in the sweltering heat, cries for a break were ignored as Patrick Cooney rattled the dust off the back of the onion sack to score the first ever goal in Viet-GAA-history.

Slowly over the ensuing weeks, the lads have met up every Sunday to hone their skills or in most cases learn the rules from scratch, in preparation for the Asian Gaelic Games to be held in Singapore on June 23-24. The lads are quietly confident they can turn a few heads in the looks department, if not on the actual playing field. As for their secret weapon, as soon as they work out who or what that is, they're definitely keeping it to themselves – otherwise it wouldn't be a secret.



The Viet Celts travel to Singapore thanks to the generous sponsorship of ESB International, Terotech International Limited, Finnegan's Bar Hanoi, and Enterprise Ireland.


A few classic quotes by the inimitable commentator Micheal O' Muircheartaigh, the Voice of Gaelic Games.

"I saw a few Sligo people at Mass in Gardiner Street this morning and the omens seem to be good for them. The priest was wearing the same colours as the Sligo jersey! Forty yards out on the Hogan Stand side of the field Ciarán Whelan goes on a rampage, it's a goal. So much for religion."

"Colin Corkery on the 45 lets go with the right boot. It's over the bar. This man shouldn't be playing football. He's made an almost Lazarus-like recovery from a heart condition. Lazarus was a great man, but he couldn't kick points like Colin Corkery."

"Sean Og O'Hailpin... his father's from Fermanagh, his mother's from Fiji, neither a hurling stronghold."

"And Brian Dooher is down injured. And while he is, I'll tell ye a little story. I was in Times Square in New York last week, and I was missing the Championship back home. So I approached a news stand and I said: 'I suppose ye wouldn't have The Kerryman, would ye?' To which the Egyptian behind the counter turned to me and he said: 'Do you want the North Kerry edition or the South Kerry edition?'. He had both. So I bought both. And Dooher is back on his feet."

"Teddy McCarthy to John McCarthy, no relation, John McCarthy back to Teddy McCarthy, still no relation."

"Teddy looks at the ball, the ball looks at Teddy."

"Pat Fox out to the forty and grabs the sliothar, I bought a dog from his father last week. Fox turns and sprints for goal, the dog ran a great race last Tuesday in Limerick. Fox to the 21 fires a shot, it goes to the left and wide... and the dog lost as well."

"Setanta Ó hAilpín....the original Setanta from the old Gaelic stories was ten foot tall, had ten fingers on each hand and ten toes on each foot but even he couldn't be playing better hurling than his namesake here today."

That day has come - the drilling, crashing, smashing, banging, Whoo-hoo-ing, Tay oi-ing, hammering, grinding, hacking and sawing begins... – the octogenarian or nonagenarian woman has passed, or sold up, and her bungalow has been demolished. The construction starts this week.

Six months of Sunday-sleepin-lessness and grumpiness starts here.

From the archives: UNDER CONSTRUCTION
Teddy de Burca Jnr. ponders a rather challenging work in progress – the street he lives on
Every time I return from a trip abroad, I wonder if the construction work on my street has finished. It doesn’t matter how often I go, or even how long I stay away. It never does. The road is long. So, so long.
Read more...

I wonder how many floors the new building will be... six, seven, eight? Odds on it's slightly taller than the last one, which was of course, slightly taller than the previously built one, in what seems to be some kind of oneupmanship-domino effect.

Though perhaps people need to be a bit more careful they have the planning permission for these towering abodes these days... though these buildings (see below) are quite a bit bigger, their top floors are being being pulled down for going up too far.

Hanoi high-rises set to demolish unauthorized floors

Owners of a 17-story building in Hanoi began to remove furniture and equipment Friday from the unauthorized top three floors in preparation for their demolition.

Besides the building on Dao Duy Anh Street in Dong Da district, four others in the capital too are set to lose their unauthorized floors.
Read more...

According to this week's VIR only 70 per cent of construction sites in Hanoi have planning permission, while 34 per cent of that lot have ignored building restrictions. .

Inspired by a recent conversation about sending a text to the wrong person, or worse, the person you were texting about (and obviously worse still if you weren't being nice), I dug up this ditty by the shaggy-haired Irish comedian David O' Doherty - a.k.a. the DOD

Two quick things...


One - I'm watching Vietnam Idol and it is hilarious and even if your tieng viet is piss-poor it's worth it - some hilarious breakdancing singers, lots of hair gel, over the top ballad singers and moody rockers... right now I just saw these brilliant ethnic minority guys - six friends, all very cocksure - from Dak Lak province all get the golden ticket. You can see it on HTV9, the Hanoi channel or the Ho Chi Minh channels - it's not on VTV.

Two - An ex-colleague from the US writes about another ex-colleague from Hanoi and censorship here. It's a short, sharp piece which is worth a quick look especially for you sub-editors, hacks and scribes out there who've seen your prose clipped or headlines altered.

Over and out.

Pimp your Xe May

So Tut xe that me is the online only or webshow version of MTV's Pimp my Ride, if yer a sunny-Saigon resident perhaps you'd be interested, apparently you can send off your details and you might just BE THE ONE! or your Honda Dream might BE THE XE MAY that is tut-ed?

As rapper x-hibit was the host of the US version, they're trying to maintain a hip-hoppety-don't-you-stop-me feel with Tien Dat, or is it Dat tien, the rapper and model Tommy Tran doing the high-fiving.

And as for the weather, proof I wasn't exaggerating - tomorrow will be just the 42 degrees.

Nong enough for ya?
Man alive it's hot today - red lights leave you in the sun and you slowly bake while begging for it to turn green. Though you could drive straight through as its so hot the boys in khaki are nowhere to be seen.

Which makes me think of jobs I wouldn't want to be doing in Hanoi on a day like today, which include...

1) Pump attendant - Working in a Hanoi petrol station with the fumes, the engines running, everyone pushing and shoving. It seems five degrees hotter in the shaded petrol station then it does on the street
2) Meat griller – Grilling the meat at a bun cha joint, sitting by the flames all afternoon.
3) Rubbish collector - Wrapped up a jumpsuit, traipsing the streets of the city shovelling everyone else's crap up all day long. These women (mostly it seems they are women) are the unsung heroes of the city.

It was this sort of weather when I came back from a Bangkok hospital with a cast on my leg two years back. That was bad enough but then my street's eletricity-pole went up in flames and exploded meaning the power - obviously - went out for a couple of days. That night I slept naked on my tiled-floors and it was still hot as bejesus. That's a lie, I didn't sleep. I just lay, reflecting on my rather foolish decsion to opt for a first class ticket paid for by insurance company to come back to Hanoi rather than all the way to Dublin (where I was going in a couple of weeks anyway).

Ah dearie me, hindsight... as useful as an ashtray on a motorbike.

More on Runarn "God Bless" Keytarn's gig in the bodge here , "Ronan tried to get the crowd to sing a few song choruses, of which they knew one (the ringtone one), and told the crowd he hoped more singers would come to Cambodia", check out the comments and also a thankfully short interview at AsiaLife's website. It's very boring, which is understandable as Mad Rock 'n' roll Ronan he ain't.

Hors d’œuvres
The Irish Celtic Tiger is in-coming, a fake Shaman gives up the game and admits he's actually just a Sham-man, plus Hoi An is my kinda-town - mucho kudos!, cat food (cat owners beware), the slow death of the circus in Vietnam...
Not only did he arrive to find the rows of seats occupied by only a handful of audience members, "but the worst part didn’t come until the performance started," Minh said. Read more.

And Irishman superstar Ronan "God bless" Keating went to Cambodia... or should I say Runarn Keytarn went to Kampuchea?
The former Boyzone frontman, with more than 20 hit singles to his name, will now sing to a scaled-back audience of 7,000 inside an undercover arena instead of in the full stadium, which has a capacity of 50,000.

With ticket prices at $15, $25 and $65, no one should be too surprised that tickets aren’t exactly selling like stolen Landcruisers. But apparently, concert promoters are having trouble even giving tickets away. The main problem, it seems, is that not even trendy Phnom Penh teenagers know who the guy is.

Keating seems little known in Cambodia, despite marketing efforts by Mobitel, who have had his 2002 hit song “If Tomorrow Never Comes” available for download as a ring tone. Kunthea Yem, 23, a waitress who earns about $60 per month, is a huge fan of the song and has almost mastered the chorus in her broken English. But when asked who the singer was she had no idea - nor did she know Keating was about to play in Phnom Penh.

“I remember someone said an international singer was coming here,” she said, as the song crackled out of her mobile phone. “Runarn Keytarn? No, I don’t know him. Anyway, I guess the concert will be too expensive.”

Read more here at details are sketchy.

So I guess Gary Glitter is still the most famous singer to have been to Cambodia.

From this week's Timeout, with kind permission...


Get your Minsk running 'cos it's ....
THE BIG FAT DELICIOUS - MINSK OLYMPICS 2007

Frank Patterson dusts off his dancing shoes and revs up his Minsk in preparation for the annual Minsk Olympics at Thac Da resort, which has been the party of the summer in the north for the last four years


The more the merrier
Before you start picturing pole-vaulting Belarussians or tattooed bikers pulling off Evil Knievel-style wheelies, I should point out that the Minsk Olympics might sound a tad misleading. For starters you don’t even have to ride a Minsk motorbike to come! Although the event is organised by Hanoi Minsk Club the weekend rally is less about motorbikes and more about letting your hair down with a bunch of fellow Vietnam residents (both Vietnamese and foreigners) in the great outdoors for a change! The actual Olympian events, which are on the Sunday, are also just for fun (mind you, I do happen to know a man who might be running a book).
Hanoi Minsk Club has operated since 1998 and this year’s Olympics rally on May 26-27 will mark the 40th official gathering of the Club. Now in its fifth year, the Minsk Olympics weekend rally has been lauded in Hanoi circles as the party of the summer for the previous four years. Last summer over 150 people made the short trip out to Thac Da resort, which sits in the foothills of Ba Vi Mountain, near Son Tay, about 50km west of Hanoi. Club organisers will be hoping to surpass that tally this year.

Fitter, happier... slower?
Most people head out to Thac Da at around noon, or early afternoon, by motorbike. After arriving and grabbing a beer you can head up to the football pitch to watch the Minsk Club’s football team take on Thac Da FC at 4pm. Last year, the Minsk Club players, distracted by the breathtaking scenery and failing to adjust to the high altitude, eventually succumbed to the fitter (and, yes, better) local team, eventually losing 2-0.
As usual in the evening, there will be a slap up buffet dinner whilst enjoying dirt bike videos from around Vietnam and Mongolia, then you can slip into your dancing shoes or out of your dep, and check out the live music. After the bands a host of Hanoi’s most cutting edge DJs, including the boys from the CAMA Soundsystem, will be twiddling the knobs and playing tunes that will keep you smiling through the night.
The next morning the games begin. First, the Piston Trophy is up for grabs for the winner of the individual time trial (slow race). Defending champion Vu The Vinh will be out to go slower than ever before in a bid to claim his third title – but there’s no shortage of competition with the likes of Donny Anh Nguyen (last year’s runner-up) and the undisputed Queen of the Minsk, Maeve Nolan (people’s champion 2003) in hot pursuit. After lunch it’s time for the Comrade Struggle. In this doubles event the pillion passenger is blindfolded and has to hurl inflated inner-tubes into a goal while being driven around by his or her partner. At the end of the day, it’s the Comrade who can get his ring over the trophy, ahem, who wins.

Tell me more!
The Minsk Club is a not-for-profit organisation and the weekend costs only VND400,000 ($25) which includes entry to the resort, bike parking, buffet dinner, breakfast, picnic lunch, stilt house accommodation and all live entertainment. Click onto www.minskclubvietnam.com for directions and a downloadable map. Email minskclubvietnam@hotmail.com for more details or reservations (private air con rooms available on request).
For those looking to link with other riders there is a group scheduled to leave from the Highway4 Restaurant, 575 Kim Ma, at 1pm on Saturday 26th May – again, contact the club to book a seat or find out more.
Remember, it doesn’t matter if you drive a Honda Charly, Vespa or Penny Farthing – everyone is welcome and it is the more the merrier! If you want to rent a Minsk for the weekend, try Cuong’s Adventure Biking, 1 Luong Ngoc Quyen, 04 926 1534 or 091 3518772.

Hanoi the best place to ...
Just reading the latest Time magazine (asian ed.) with a "best place to blankety-blank in Asia" feature.

Hanoi, or more specifically Nha Tho street in Hanoi, is.... wait for it... (drum roll please!) described as the best place to do your Christmas shopping. Suppose they might be right. Last Christmas a quick two-hour shopping spree saw me loaded up with a pile of lacquer, propaganda bits and pieces, a few Vietnam t-shirts and sure didn't the extended de Burca clan just love it all.

What's slightly more contentious for expats would be the recommendation to start off with a coffee in Cafe Mocha, a place pretty much no one I know would touch with a twenty foot bamboo ladder from Hang Vai street (you know the place with the twenty foot bamboo ladders?). Yes, it was the who's-who-of-Hanoi place to eat Sunday brunch circa 2000 when they had copies of the Newyorker and a New Orleans-born manager but man alive did it plummet in standards a few years back (three? four? five?) - visible rats, menus falling apart, waiters who had clearly given up on life and embraced ennui. Oh and the food was rapidly in decline too.

HOWEVER, it still is a mighty spot/location, so that's what still cajoles the customers inside, mostly tourists methinks, and the coffee might very well be decent but can't vouch for it anymore. And although at this time of year it's a bit early to be Christmas Shopping, when in Rome... er...

Personally I think Hanoi is the best place to eat out six-nights a week. But each to their own.

Vietnam Moment No. 2,986,356
Driving down the road, back from a trip, on that busy, busy, shitty road where the dust never settles through Ha Dong. Hot, bothered, tired - I could barely keep my head up. Then suddenly in front of me I spy an army fella on his Honda Dream - he's dressed in his mushy-pea green uniform and cruising with his lady, whose head is hatted and face is wrapped up in a US-flag bandana. My camera was in my sidepockets. I could have reached in, tried to photo it and post it and then I wouldn't have had to write this, but in that traffic it would have been purrrr-etty stupid. So I didn't, which is why I'm telling you about it now.

Just one of those moments.

The bike makes the man
Teddy de Burca Jnr. takes us through a lineup of the motors he once had the pleasure to drive, how they made him feel and how they made him look in the eyes of the public

Over the years I’ve either owned or borrowed a wide range of two-wheelers in Vietnam. I’ve been laughed at, winked at, honked at, abused and ignored. So below here’s a quick guide to what each motorbike represents in the eyes of the public (in my opinion, which is of course the right one, in my opinion).

Honda Dream – Old reliable. This says “you will always find me in the kitchen at parties”. On the road no one acknowledges you. In fact it’s positively anonymous. Its plain exterior could almost be an ironic celebration of the motorbike’s famed functionality but of course its not. It’s way too boring for that. A more apt name would be the Honda Reality. But, steady as she goes on the Hanoi roads, this is the bike for flying under the radar and playing it safe. If you’re trying to avoid people, this is your man.


Honda Wave – A sleek version of the aforementioned Honda Dream, but more androgynous and also a flimsier product and more prone to breakdowns. Driving this says you’re not the kind to brag or show off but you want to look good at the traffic lights. You need to get around town with a splash of style and a fair degree of reliability. Just avoid a helmet that matches the colour of your motorbike. That looks really twee.

Minsk – Once the Minsk said “I am Expat hear me roar” but numbers of expats riding this Belorusian two stroke are dwindling fast while more local youngsters seem to be flying around town on them looking dark and moody. It says "I might just be heading off to the mountains" unless you're wearing a suit which means you're off to work - heigh-ho - but still want to retain that rough and ready image. Unreliable for those who don’t want to get their hands dirty, and unapologetically smoky, this is the bike to make enemies at the traffic lights. While if you’re hoping on impressing the beautiful people on the terraced-cafés then leave it somewhere else before arriving for your ca phe sua da. If you already have one, then you either don’t know this and are living in denial or do know this and don’t care.


MZ 250cc – Virtually extinct this ugly Germanic cousin of the Minsk is twice as loud and twice as smoky – so just multiply whatever I said about the Minsk by two. One advantage of the rumbling engine is it scares the bejesus out of every one. As they scurry to the sides you sail through. Very nearly lost my girlfriend over this one and in the end she paid my friend (one gin and tonic) to take it away while I was on holidays.

Any kind of dirt bike – Well you might as well be waving a flag. Yes, we see you and hear you. You are most certainly male and we’re not suggesting for a minute you’re compensating for something but let’s just say if you’re NOT actually using it for off road adventures in the back of beyond then it might as well be true.

Yamaha Mio/ Nouvo – The Mio is a small person’s automatic, you should probably not be riding this if you’re a large cumbersome male, as I did (I was in between bikes, alright?). Truck drivers slowed down and howled with laughter while giggling kids sped past me on their rickety bicycles. Like a bear on a tricycle, apparently. The Mio and the Nouvo are the latest in conventional style. Nouvo and Mio drivers like modern gadgets and hope to come across as smooth and modern as a flat screen TV. And if it’s good enough for Brad Pitt…

Other bikes I haven’t driven but are worth mentioning
Old Vespas – A touch of old school class. These beautiful vintage Italian machines are eye catching and cool. It says “less about little old you, and more about little old me” or perhaps, later on in the night, "let's get out of these wet clothes and slip into a dry martini". The only problem is when the little fellow breaks down on your way home at 2am or gets cold in winter – ah bless.

Enormous motorbikes with sidecars – The Sunday driving toy for expat males with kids. If you live down a lane then you’re probably too lazy to take it out Monday to Saturday but when Sunday rolls around you get out onto the open road and search the land for a nice cappuccino. I’ve only ever sat in the sidecar and I didn’t feel or look as cool as the guy who was driving it but he was also wearing a WWII helmet and fighter pilot goggles. In the sidecar reminded me of sitting in a xich lo – you do it to relax and enjoy looking at the city, but in the end the city’s looking at you. At least in a sidecar you go faster. Without a passenger it’s good for picking up the groceries from Vivimart or transporting potted plants.

Fancy modern Vespas/ Dylans/ Honda @ – Oh yeah baby, you’ve made, you got it, so why the hell not flaunt it. It’s either that or you just borrowed it from your new girlfriend or boyfriend – in which case, you might be flaunting two things at once.

The bike I’m driving now
It’s a 1980s Vespa PX and yes I know – it says “I am a middle aged beret-wearing artist with a moustache or a goatee, by day I smoke Vinataba and drink coffee, by night I wear stripy pajamas”. But hey, as long as I’m comfortable with that then it’s my problem.

Bank holidays...
Our mate Frank went to Ba Be lake - and sure didn't he have a wonderful time and didn't our other mucker Daniel Kirk go surfing - and if he says its safe to sure, well then it's safe to surf.

It is not however safe to drive - 108 killed and 180 injured in four days.

Which is why we Pittstop HQ staffers stayed in Hanoi taking advantage of the fact that everyone else left town. Ah the empty streets, the lack of people to meet, all the bars shutting early, liberating and stifling all at once, like Tet with warm weather - until it hammered rain that is.

On another note, how many people do you think you could fit on Cat Ba island?

Other titbits: a dragon girl has been mistaken for a mini-miracle maker

And if you have that screenplay you've been writing handy ...


Plus I mentioned scent free Durians were invented a few posts ago and well, sure didn't one kind Pittstop reader inform us that he came across Durian-scented rubbers in Xin Man, Ha Giang province.

Well, I never, ever, ever, ever heard the like.

Phu Quoc
As we said we were in Phu quoc last week. So was Frank Patterson the lucky so and so. Read his wee travel piece here.
The buildings of Ho Chi Minh City become matchboxes beneath us. Our plane lurches into cruise speed. My travelling companion shakes his head. It’s his first time on a propeller-plane.

Cog notes by mobile
Coming up to exam time in Vietnam and the pressure drop for students. Heard lots of stories of cheating over the years. It gets pretty out of hand with kids so terrified of failure - and not just the kids, the parents too.

One method I heard was pretty brazen. A kid would be paid to just waltz in and sit an exam for some dolt with money - a ringer or super sub. They'd take the kids ID or make a fake one. Over the years the examiners have got wiser so the cheats did too. This gang just got done in court for radio-ing in the right answers by mobile after finding out the right answers. The gang leader, got 33 months.

Sure whatever happened to cog notes up the sleeve, says you?

Well, in Vietnam they use, or used, a cog note method called phao (life buoys - or life savers) and according to this two-year-old article by Pittsop's old beer-buddy Samuel Taylor you could buy them at green tea stalls near the university!

The article claims the "long, thin pieces of paper full of answers written in tiny font, costing between 1.20 and 3.50 dollars apiece. Folded tightly, the cheat sheets can be concealed and discreetly consulted in the examination room." You just had to remember your tiny-wee magnifying glass.

Don't know if this still happens but funny all the same.
"Ba oi! Two Vina, a cup of hot green tea and a concise history of the Russian revolution."

What a service.

Forgot the link for the man getting something out of his chest in the post below. So here it is here

Wee break
The pittstop team took a sneaky week off last week and one of us was lucky enough to hit Phu Quoc - sweet Jesus is it a place and a half. More later, perhaps.

But the big news while we were away appears to be that someone in Thailand by the name of Songpol Somsri has invented a scent-free Durian. Come again you say? Sure what's a stinky fruit without the stink? Like Roquefort sans whiff.

First square watermelons now this.


Plus, I'd just like to point out how annoying I find it when I do a search for articles on Vietnam and find mostly articles on the Iraqi debacle and more tiresome comparisons between the two wars/ invasions.

Just had to get that last one off my chest, sorry, which reminds me of the fella who had to get something out of his chest rather than off it. Amazing.

My Afghan-German-Oxtralian friend sent me this link to an article headlined Lonely memorial for China's forgotten war.

Although China invaded Vietnam on February 15, 1979, launching a war that turned into a low-intensity border conflict through most of the 1980s, a look at the cemetery in Malipo reveals little of what transpired....

"When border treaties were signed two decades later, China tallied 26,000 dead combatants and Vietnam an estimated 37,000."

Me mate also told me he often talked to people in Guangxi about Vietnam and and at one dinner he attended with Viets, Chinese and Australians, he asked the Guangxi-nese if they could speak any Vietnamese.

One ex-Army guy got up and said: "Yes, I can speak some Vietnamese - 'Put your gun down, your hands up and come out slowly!"

Apparently everyone pissed themselves laughing, especially the Vietnamese.

The 64-million dollar divorce

An FPT mogul hands over 64 million in stock to his soon-to-be-ex-wife.

As I mentioned before the stock market has gone nuts here and there's a new fascination with multi-millionaires. Hitherto being wealthy would have been hush-hush but as everyone in Vietnam knows, in the last decade a more if-you-got-it-flaunt-attitude has developed (hey, if I could, I'd buy a BMW too), but the real kings of the castle (and you're the dirty rascals!) weren't best pleased to be publicly included in a list of "the top 100 wealthiest people in Vietnam."

From the DPA article, same one that's linked above:
Vietnam's infant stock market - which rose 144 per cent last year - has made overnight millionaires out of several executives at formerly state owned companies.

The rise of stock market millionaires in a country that didn't even have a securities exchange until 2000 has led to another new phenomenon: the 100-richest list.

Earlier this year, several Vietnamese newspapers printed lists of the country's wealthiest investors, based on their publicly disclosed stock holdings, though not including real estate magnates or other business leaders.

The list caused a minor outcry among some on the list, who complained they were exposed to kidnapping and extortion by being outed.

Yo, yo, yo, cac ca si oi...
An opportunity for the zillion young wanna-be ca si out there in the shape of Vietnam Idol, sadly, for me at least, open only to Vietnamese nationals, but if, if, if I can somehow achieve fluency in the tieng viet department the role of oh-so cynical Simon could perhaps still be a goer, definitely wouldn't want to be that fella Randy who just says 'dawg' all the time, as saying yo, con cho oi all the time would just look plain silly.

Follow up youtube flicks for the post below - how to cross the road in Hanoi

Here's a few locals striding fairly purposefully...

And here's a tourist gingerly stepping across...


...successfully.

And one more...

Crosstown traffic
In the urban jungle Teddy de Burca Jnr. spots a hitherto unknown species on the Hanoi streets – Zebra Crossings

Near the Ho Chi Minh mausoleum I almost knocked a pedestrian over. He was crossing in fits and starts, unsure whether I was going to the left of him or the right, straight down the middle, or, the highly improbable last possibility, actually stopping to let him cross.

I eventually went to the left, the polite choice I believed, as he was walking left to right, but then he decided to do a bit of a moonwalk and take two steps back – I almost clipped him but fair play to the young fellow, he half hurdled my front wheel, and made it to the pavement, slightly flustered but alive.

I heard him shout “Dien (Crazy)!” and I thought that was a bit harsh as I wasn’t driving very fast and had done my best to veer around him – he was the one walking forwards and backwards in the middle of the road. When I looked back to shrug my shoulders indifferently he was pointing down at something I’d never really noticed before – a creature known as the Zebra Crossing, hitherto unspotted in the little supervised wilds of Hanoi’s traffic, but not unfamiliar to me in my past life as a pedestrian back in the homeland.

How long had I been ignoring these hapless pedestrians rightfully, yet understandably gingerly, stepping out onto the Zebra Crossings? Well pretty much since the day I got here. Sheep-like, I’ve just been following the masses. No one else stopped so I didn’t either. There are no red lights, no traffic cops and no lollipop ladies with red-lettered STOP signs – what can I say, except I’m sorry?

I drove on, feeling a bit guilty, promising that I’d do my bit – forever more – and take note of these crossings and stand up (or slow down at least) for pedestrian rights, after all they have feelings too.

As I rounded the next corner a group of tourists stood on the side of the road, one took his chances with the Zebra Crossing and bounded across, I slowed to a near halt, feeling thoroughly upstanding with my new pedestrian-friendly persona. He half-acknowledged my courtesy with a flapping wave, and kept going, but arcing around me at about 50kmph a young man on his moped came through, still blithely unaware of what a Zebra Crossing is, where to look, what to do when you see one in the urban jungle.

Nonchalantly he swerved around the petrified tourist, who scurried to the other side, while behind me a large SUV lurched forward, honking at me – places to go, people to see, don’t you know. The tourist’s friends abandoned their crossing. The traffic surged forward, what could I do but roll away with it, leaving the endangered pedestrians and Zebra Crossings behind.





A couple of companion vids off youtube from HCM City:

Bloody unbelievable
Saw this striking picture on flickr and it reminded me how I used to eat this stuff with the Baron in Truc Bach village, once upon a time, in a land where the duck was free to be eaten without any consequences (for you) - such as death by H5N1 flu strand.

For those who don't know it's tiet canh - fresh blood which has been chilled so it congeals, it's made from a duck, goose or a pig, mostly, served with crushed peanuts and washed down with a glass of liquor or bia. It has the not unusual distinction of being "good for man" (what isn't "good for man" in this country I have yet to work out with the exception perhaps of wives... even sweetcorn is "good for man").

Has disappeared from the streets of Hanoi as it's a no-no (whether it's a law or collective responsibility I can't quite be sure, the official line is the authorities are still 'considering' banning it) due to bird flu but apparently, my reporter friend tells me, it's easily found on the outskirts or in Ha Tay province.

Here's another bloody photo by the same chap - look like wee bowls of paints in an artist's studio, but believe it or not, people eat that stuff up.

Music, songs bands that name drop Vietnam part III or IV
Turns out Pink (to make the boys wink) had a song My Vietnam, it's awful, as you might expect.
This is my Vietnam/ I'm at war/ They keeps on dropping bombs/ And I keep score

Anyway...

I'd hoped to make a set list of songs with the word Vietnam or another Vietnamese place in the title or simply bands with a Vietnamese place in their name but I'm struggling to find enough playable music. Ideas still welcome (you can see the other songs and bands already mentioned a few posts down).

Checked out Hanoi Rocks on youtube. Seems like Queens of the Stone Age ripped those poor auld Finnish rockers off - listen to the opening riff.

Big in Russia so they were.

Great hair-dos too.

Who ate all the banh bao?

A few of the boys on their beat it seems, and now these cops are hitting the gym to get back in shape and back on the game. Cue the Rocky music!

Another one for...
...the set list of songs name dropping Vietnam... this is just a snippet and what a whacky snippet it is - Elliot-o it's up your ngo/alley, but then it is the Fiery Furnaces, check them out there, official website, or at the myspace page.

Highway to hell... and back again

A year and a half after an accident on the road from Phan Thiet to Ho Chi Minh City, Teddy de Burca Jnr. found himself reluctantly on an all-too-familiar road

The vans overtaking the trucks overtaking the cars overtaking the buses are making me nervous. The weather is hot and the AC is not firing on all cylinders, but that’s not necessarily why sweat is dribbling down my cheeks.
The fact that my driver is – judging by appearances – 12 years old is not helping matters. I look down to check his feet can reach the brake pads. Much to my surprise they can. Not that I'm reassured - this means he is actually going to drive and not just - as I hoped - keeping the seat warm for an adult with a driver's license.
My dearly beloved Mrs. De Burca is not speaking to me, because I’m not speaking to her. So we sit in silence. The sounds we hear are the familiar but not very reassuring sounds of Vietnam’s highways – the stretched out-sound of beeps as vehicles zoom past at a million miles per hour.
It reminds me of a joke: what’s the sound of a cat driving at 150 miles per hour? Answer: Meeeeeeeeeeeowwwwwwwwww… But I’m not laughing, and not because the joke isn’t funny, I just can’t relax. In my lap there’s a book I’m not reading. There’s no chance of me falling asleep. So I switch on the radio and we listen to some Cham music, but still my eyes never leave the road. Every car, bicycle, motorbike, truck, van, bus, SUV is an accident waiting to happen in my head.
Road trauma, I suppose, is expecting these accidents to happen. I believe they will. It’s just a matter of time. The 12-year old driving the car probably believes they won’t. I don’t know what Mrs De Burca thinks, because she’s not talking to me, but I’m to blame as I wasn’t talking to her first.
You see it has been about 18 months since I discovered without joy what happens when a very fast moving vehicle smashes into a much larger stationary one. Not quite the answer to the rhetorical riddle: what happens when the immovable object is hit by the irresistible force, but, nonetheless, of interest to some one out there, I’m sure.
You see I was inside a taxi with a driver hell bent on travelling at the speed of light (click that link, see three posts down) somewhere outside Xuan Loc town in Dong Nai province. Our course was interrupted by a rather large truck. On impact our bonnet crumpled, the truck didn’t budge. I was hurled into the front seat and smashed my humerus bone – which wasn’t very funny, ha-ha-ha – and my left foot too. Mrs De Burca was sleeping and bounced off a chair and was ok, apart from bruises; she is blessed with double jointed arms which are disturbingly flexible – rather like Elastigirl from The Incredibles. The taxi driver, while knocked unconscious, would live to explain his way out of jail. Only I was broken into smaller pieces.
My journey was far from over, after a makeshift fix up at a local hospital with two planks of wood and a hefty dose of painkillers (nhieu kudos) and a rescue run by International SOS (mucho kudos for you too) in Ho Chi Minh City, I ended up on my own chartered plane (the Mango-something-or-other which flies to Ko Samui every other day) jetting off to Bangkok where all the King of Thailand’s doctors and nurses tried to put my arm back together again.
But trauma takes a little longer to heal, if it heals at all, and ever since sitting in a car with another driver has not been easy for me. Even the relatively short trip from my house to Noi Bai airport is an excruciating experience, like getting slowly beaten up, I imagine.
This year after our Tet obligations were done and dusted, Mrs de Burca and I decided to head south for a quick holiday. Originally I was led to believe we’d be taking the train to Phan Thiet, but it was full.
With a room booked and friends meeting us there, we didn’t want to renege on our decision. Mrs De Burca assured me she’d hire a good car with a good driver. She had a number. That turned out to be the number of the 12-year old, which is why I’m not talking to her, which is why she’s not talking to me.
The journey takes over four hours, a spell during which I constantly picture pile ups, smashing windscreens and other gruesome possibilities, or probabilities, as I believe.
But then suddenly, just when I think this journey will not end, we’re winding down a drive way to our resort tucked in along the rugged coastline of Mui Ne. We have, much to my surprise, arrived in one piece. The 12-year old did it; the precociousness of youth, says you.
I step out and breathe the salty-sea breeze deep into my lungs. I’d feel refreshed but all I can smell is the nervous sweat which has soaked my shirt through. As we walk into reception I decide to start talking again.
“Well, I’m definitely never doing that again, let’s take the train back.”
The eager receptionist overhears me and, after welcoming us to Mui Ne, informs us that the train back to Ho Chi Minh City is fully booked for at least another week, which is why I’m still not talking to Mrs de Burca, which is why she’s not talking to me.

Vietnam... the band
Well, they're from New York, but they're called Vietnam and if rock isn't your bag, than perhaps you'd prefer Vietnam Disco all the way from Chester in Wales.

Can't vouch for either of them as I haven't listened to the tracks yet, so don't shoot the messenger if they're pants.

Speaking of Vietnam related band names, worthy of a mention, of course, are Helsinki's finest, Hanoi Rocks.

I've also heard a few tracks by Unkle Ho - you can download their songs here.

Probably a few Saigon-influenced band names out there too - a quick google brings up Saigon Distress Signal, a Canook "Hardcore / Melodramatic Popular Song / Shoegaze" outfit and also a rap act Saigon : Tha Yard Father, a Brooklyn fella it seems (you can download his single, Pain in My life for free on the myspace page, and Saigon Kiss from Norwich... who knows why boys from Norwich chose Saigon Kiss. If I get a chance I'll try and email them.

Also, gets me thinking about a top 10 Vietnam-related songs (but not counting actual Vietnamese songs, anthems, not that I'm not a HUGE fan of Vina-pop - I mean Tays who don't live here stuff). Suggestions on a postcard if you can be bothered.

Number one - Jimmy Cliff - Vietnam Listen to that track here

Love me long time tea?
Back at home over Christmas I delivered tea to my old mucker's parents, I didn't really check the brand out or pay any attention to what flavour it was. Some sales assistant recommended it when I was down in sunny HCM City and why that was good enough for me. I just threw it in my bag and split.

(It might be this one...)



It turns out it was Phuc Long tea and my old mucker's dad couldn't resist emailing me the other day just to say "strange tea, but what a name!"

I hadn't ever thought of it, but there you go, uttered in the quaint Irish brogue, or by any one speaking English I suppose, or saying Vietnamese words without tones, it could mean something quite different than its real meaning, which is, for the record, Blessed Dragon.

I had to restrain myself from asking him if it worked. I was just happy he was tickled pink and I like picturing him welcoming guests and suggesting, " Phuc Long anyone?"

Phuc, which means blessed by itself, is also a boy's name but in this modern world it may soon be more of a curse than a blessing.

You can imagine the possibilities... "Go get Phuc will ya!" and so on.

Angelina minus Brad Part I: Lawyer needed for mother of four

Well, this is from some celebrity mag under the headline, Jolie breaks Vietnam law to adopt kid, but I can't find a link: Under Vietnamese law single parents who are co-habiting cannot adopt... to which International adoption official Tatiana Beams has commented: "This is a clear contradiction of Vietnamese law, and such situations would not be allowed for other couples."

So a spot of legal bother on the horizon, perhaps, or perhaps not. One quick pout from Angelina's bee-stung gums, supported perhaps by a back up pout from her partner if deemed neccesary, should see them slip out of this fine pickle of a conundrum and into the clear.

I promise never to post anything about them ever again...

Brangelina Part II: Are they really, really keo kiet?

Well, they sure don't tip...

Ok, it's official we have no soul and we're turning into a trashy-celebrity obsessed blogspot, but hot news just in - a scoop! a scoop! - from HCM City where the identity of the owner of the Yamaha Nouvo, which the Hollywood duo drove around a few months back has just been confirmed.

The man, who's name cannot be revealed for fear of the tabloid press hunting him down like a defenceless animal (ok, we don't know his name, and we're sure he'd happily sell his story if you can track him down), is the Bellboy at the Park Hyatt. Our on-the-spot asscoiates asked him how much he rented his bike for.
"Well, I didn't get anything," he meekly confessed. He was after all just following orders from his eager-to-please superiors.

But surely a tip from two of the hottest stars in show business who are worth a gazillion Vietnam dong?
"Um..., well, no."

Khong co gi indeed. The poor man. Still he can't be doing too bad if he has a Nouvo but - how cruel fate mocks us - that photo of them riding the bike was probably sold for thousands of dollars.

Still, hopefully Pittstop Works can spur one of you wannabe-tabloid Ho Chi Minh City residents into getting down to the Park Hyatt and fishing for the lowdown and selling his story to ... Hello?

Go on make him famous, give him his 15 minutes, and hopefully a nice fat tip too. What goes around should come around.