Saigon at times feels like I'm in Bladerunner. Looking out the window last night, at the mess of towers with tiny ally-ways between them, neon flashing, bats swooping, humid air blowing in gusts, steam rising in jets from far below, the roar of a million scooters racing below a tangled mesh of electricity and telephone wires...and the passing sound of an old lady on a bicycle with a much too-loudhailer looping out ear piercing monotone communist mantra over and over the recording goes. She's off in the distance now, but she'll be back soon enough. Poor woman.
An interesting thing I overheard last night between the hotel owner and a Russian guest was: that the city centre with its blend of old world and west-world was going through a social experiment. The police are apparently all about the western style bars, undercover, observing. They want to study the effects of alcohol, drugs and western style debauchery as it enters they're society. At present, Vietnamese people drink very little but as society changes with the onset of prosperity...
Thursday, 8 September 2011
Sunday, 4 September 2011
Mission
Why am I writing this blog?
I read or saw an interview some time back with an author or journalist or some such character who said a thing that comes back to me at sporadic intervals; that in order to be a writer - one must write. Not very profound I agree, but he went on to suggest that between those rare days where a large chunk of a book pours forth from his subconscious through his pen, he relies on a discipline of five hundred words a day. Regardless of mood or creative juice. Just sit and compose five hundred simple words: hone your craft. In my case I want to see if I have an ability, can I become a craftsman in this discipline? Moreover will it be interesting to another person or two?
So with far less than the requisite number, I will leave it there for today.
I read or saw an interview some time back with an author or journalist or some such character who said a thing that comes back to me at sporadic intervals; that in order to be a writer - one must write. Not very profound I agree, but he went on to suggest that between those rare days where a large chunk of a book pours forth from his subconscious through his pen, he relies on a discipline of five hundred words a day. Regardless of mood or creative juice. Just sit and compose five hundred simple words: hone your craft. In my case I want to see if I have an ability, can I become a craftsman in this discipline? Moreover will it be interesting to another person or two?
So with far less than the requisite number, I will leave it there for today.
Friday, 2 September 2011
Testing
Ok, entry one.
Spent my first night and day here in Saigon. People are incredibly friendly. First impressions are that the city is bustling and noisey, dingy but not dirty. Certainly cleaner than any Spanish city for instance.
First bit of excitement was that I got locked out of my hotel room last night and spent the entire night drinking whiskey and cokes with an assortment of oddities and eventually the mother and two daughters who owned the place. Then at sun up, drank iced coffee with the son and owner-apparent of the bar. He reckons he has all kinds of contacts for work and accommodation, and also people for me to meet as potential friends. Including his good-self! Meeting him at seven at his bar. Meeting my mate Brian at six and its now 6.06pm. Best skedaddle.
Remind me to tell you about the old couple with a daughter going to Dublin next month?
Spent my first night and day here in Saigon. People are incredibly friendly. First impressions are that the city is bustling and noisey, dingy but not dirty. Certainly cleaner than any Spanish city for instance.
First bit of excitement was that I got locked out of my hotel room last night and spent the entire night drinking whiskey and cokes with an assortment of oddities and eventually the mother and two daughters who owned the place. Then at sun up, drank iced coffee with the son and owner-apparent of the bar. He reckons he has all kinds of contacts for work and accommodation, and also people for me to meet as potential friends. Including his good-self! Meeting him at seven at his bar. Meeting my mate Brian at six and its now 6.06pm. Best skedaddle.
Remind me to tell you about the old couple with a daughter going to Dublin next month?
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