I’ve considered renting transport. Without a motorcycle licence, a car is probably the only thing that makes sense. Having my own transport would give me a lot of freedom. I enjoyed that in New Zealand, where I could just drive off.

This dream of extra freedom is, however, constantly challenged by Vietnam’s insane traffic.

In the cities there’s a certain rhythm and flow to the traffic that makes sense. Outside the cities, on the country roads, it’s a genuine battle zone though. Vans, pickups, cars, buses and scooters fight for the right to honk the most, in a constant game of chicken. God help you if you’re in the way of a bus – I’m convinced they have a license to kill, or at least to maim you.

On a trip from Da Nang to My Son Sanctuary, I really saw it with my own eyes. We were riding in a minivan with a Vietnamese driver about my age. Honk, honk, beep, beep. We whizzed around scooters and overtook into oncoming traffic. No wait, there wasn’t room. Quickly back with the horn blaring.

The driving gets more and more heated as we get caught in a convoy of pickups with loaded beds. No one gives way. The horn is blaring, but attempts to overtake are foiled by narrow roads and oncoming traffic. My eyes fall on a small green sign on the back of the seat in front of me: “Safety and Emergency Instructions”.

Suddenly the driver steps on the gas. He pulls out to overtake the pickup, but there’s a bang. We pull over to the side, and the driver jumps out. After a minute he comes back and asks if we’re okay. He gets back in the driver’s seat and tosses a broken side mirror onto the passenger seat – his side mirror.

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