She looked around seductively at herself in the long mirror bar of the Boulangerie. She was indeed gorgeous, well nothing that some remedial dental surgery couldn’t resolve.

Welcome to the streets of spicy Hanoi, a compact city full of smells of street food and motor fumes. Of domestic colour and endless excitement - well, up until 10pm when just like England in the pre-1990s it just closes down for no apparent reason. The street food is delicious, little patties of meat barbecued and added to the local soup, pho, and mixed with rice noodles and anything else that happens to be passing at the time. It makes a full and satisfying meal for less than $1.

Fruit juices vary from the ordinary, all the way to flavour packed custard fruit, another surprising treat. Shops are packed with flowers, shoes, silks, toys, old communist tat, you name it you can buy it here.

The main tourist show in town is the Water Puppets, a 40 minute display of very fine puppetry. I have always enjoyed the puppet concept from the old Punch and Judy shows on the seafront (now sadly departed since Mr Punch was banged away for 30 years for GBH).

It makes a spectacular display, complemented by live traditional music. The evening was completed when two French OAPs started a fight in the stalls over the right to stand up and take a photo.

I did the four hour slog to Halong Bay to see the spectacular limestone formations jutting out of the bay. It’s a long day but very worthwhile and I would question the extra expense for staying overnight. The day flew by with some lovely company, which continued into the evening when the Japanese girl who was with us suggested we all go out for a meal.

We headed to a local restaurant overlooking the madness of central Hanoi below. It soon became time to exchange details. "That’s brave," I said, “ever had a problem with that?”. Frigid@... isn't the first email I would have thought of, even if I did work in refrigeration. Blank look.

Okay, how long have you been in your relationship? Six months. How long have you had that address? Five years. Have you ever had a moment when you’ve given that address to the little minx at the bar, seen a disappointed look from her and never heard from her again? Uh-huh! Thought so.

By this time my American friend at the other end of the table was having to be practically sedated she found it so funny. In a final effort, Frigid called for help across to another table who indeed confirmed the meaning of the word. A strange silence followed (except for the convulsing from the other side of the table).

Ho Chi Minh actually wanted to be cremated rather than sent to Russia for an annual vacation after his demise. Here he is liberally re-stuffed and put on display for the world to see. It seems oddly disrespectful to the old guy. Today outside the mausoleum a Vietnamese film crew have arrived, consisting of three besuited gentlemen together with two beautiful girls in traditional dress. A sound system is rigged up, a traditional anthem is emitted and the team begin to mime TOTP fashion, completing the surreal experience. I cheekily film from the back and am happy with a humorous wink from one of the girls. The British pop music industry had better watch out.