There's something strange about the travel bug: no known cause, predisposition or cure but you know when you have the tell-tale symptoms of wanderlust and itchy feet. I know I am definitely a sufferer and it lead me to be incredibly jealous of Stu & Fi's round the world adventure. So much so that by christmas I had resolved to gatecrash at some juncture and I was fortunate that their plans took them through the endlessly diverting country of Vietnam.

I don't know when my case of the travel bug really started but the signs were there from a young age. My parents delight in telling stories of me wandering off, barely more than a toddler, and having confidence that I would turn up again soon (or be found mesmerised by the whisky aisle...but that's another story), I had a world map as my bed-sheets by the time I was eight, and stayed stubbornly wide awake in car journeys - always gazing out the window at the landscape whizzing by - watching where we were, where we were going - even if it was the M8 for the 1054th time.

My first "proper" trip was, as it is for many, a few weeks around europe armed only with a rucksack and an interrail pass. For this waifish, naive, 17year-old it was a revelation: staying in bizarre places, meeting even more bizarre people, each with taller stories than the last and experiencing some of the famous sights and sounds of Europe first hand. And I was hooked. Once I began uni, I started pestering friends to join in on future trips and the idea of Alexander Tours was born, a tradition that continues to this day. Although nothing is new under the sun, much later I found out that my Dad organised trips for mates to Greece under the name of Alexander Contours in his youth - maybe this travel fever is genetic?

After leaving uni, I was clearly going to take some time out to travel and part of my three months in south-east asia included Ian joining me in northern Vietnam and so when the chance to visit the southern part of the country arose with Stu and Fi, we leapt at the chance. Vietnam is such a wonderful country, not only blessed with beautiful scenery and a culture that is so gloriously “other”, everything happens on a very human scale making it very accessible to understand the place. Life happens out in the open, on the streets, not hidden away in 10 story shopping malls, 6-lane motorways and doormen-operated gilded cages. Even in Saigon, the biggest city, you knew you were looking into someone's living room as well as a bike garage. We definitely kept a boy of no more than 14 from his bed as we stopped by a random house which doubled as a bar/café. Most memorably, after doing the most jaw-droppingly amazing cycle descent on the way between Dalat and Nha Trang, we were passing through a very poor village, strung along what will become a very busy road (that had yet to be finished). It seemed like the entire village, or at least all the children came running across from whatever they were doing to say hello. Waving from the other side of the river, calling out from houses, cycling along side us, giving high-fives.

I'd wholeheartedly recommend it to anyone as a great place to visit. In fact, let me know when you're going, I want an excuse to go back already.