Ho Chi Minh shopping take 1

Attempting to wriggle and squeeze into an all too obviously small dress is discouraging enough without the dawning realisation of how red, hot and sweaty you are from that morning's motorbike ride, bus trip and a few minutes walk and the determined if awkward assistance of a hovering little (armpit height) Vietnamese girl who is being either encouraged, ordered or dared by her fellow discreetly giggling shop attendants to try and find something that fits the giant foreign lady. And hover they do - all the way into the fitting room. I am never going back there.

In shop number 2 the girls all pushed the male shop assistant up to the plate to try and find me a dress - then hovered to laugh at him and tell him in Vietnamese what they thought he should try and get me to try on. I was probably the most interesting thing that had happened there all morning. We figured out that I needed an XL size but after 1 failed attempt in the locked (thankfully) fitting room my problem was clear: Everything in the shop was fitting, short, and generally designed to look gorgeous on Ho Chi Minh Barbie. I held my head up high and decided a) I was never coming back here either b) I was never going to eat again and c) I was getting straight on the next bus home for a nice coffee and breakfast, stopping to pick up more bread on the way.

b) above was a joke.