By this time tomorrow Dan and I should be on a plane bound for Vietnam.  Actually, that’s not quite true:  by this time tomorrow we should be enjoying the raucous sights and sounds of…Seoul Incheon Airport.  Don’t you just love not being able to afford direct flights?  Six hours and several cocktails later, we should be touching down in Hanoi, our first stop in what promises to be a marathon trek through Vietnam, a land abounding in mysterious secrets practically begging to be unearthed.  And who better suited to unearthing mysterious secrets than us?  Well, probably a lot of people, but that ‘s beside the point!  Who asked you anyway!  I can just picture it now:  Dan, an experienced beaver tracker, slashing his way through thick, virgin forest, hunting for the night’s supper; me, an experienced loafer and city-boy, urging him onward with cries of “Can’t you cut any faster?” and “This heat is unbearable; someone fetch me a litter!.” It’ll be great!  I love traveling, especially when someone else volunteers to do all the heavy lifting. (Sssshhhhh…Dan doesn’t know he’s been nominated to do all the heavy lifting, while I’ve been selected to work in a more managerial capacity) 

I’m afraid I must cut this post short and attend to a few last-minute preparations, such as purchasing an elephant-hide whip (for encouragement) and a wide-brimmed hat to shade me from that notoriously brutal Vietnamese sunshine.