Vespas take a night on the town to new heights, writes Lucy Casley.
There can be few things in life more exhilarating than screaming around the chaotic streets of Ho Chi Minh City on the back of a scooter, weaving in and out of crowds of people, other scooters, tuk tuks, cars and stray dogs and darting in and out of alleyways.
There are just three of us on our four-hour Ho Chi Minh City by Vespa tour to explore the city's food and bar scene, doubled up on the back of the bikes in our helmets, clutching on to our drivers for dear life.
Our little bike gang carves its way through the bustling streets. The road system is crazy but somehow it works. Even as a pedestrian you have to get your head around it if you are ever going to cross a street. It's a daunting challenge. A local told us on our first day to "just keep walking and the traffic will flow around you. Never run and never stop". This was wise advice — there are an estimated 7.4 million scooters on the streets of Ho Chi Minh City alone, and there is no way to really avoid an encounter with them en masse.
As we race up some of the busiest streets, it feels as if every single resident is out and about tonight. Suddenly we take a right-hand turn into a side road, then another turn into Dinh Cong Trang, where we make our first stop — a tiny street-food restaurant called Banh Xeo 46A. Here they serve traditional Vietnamese pancakes.
The place is packed with locals, always a good sign, and we squeeze around a table and soak up the atmosphere. The open kitchen reveals a slick banh xeo production line, with more than a dozen pans sizzling away cooking either the batter, the pork or the prawns.
Around us everyone is tucking into the delicious-looking pancakes, and soon our guide, Cong, is firing out an order for our table, which arrives within minutes.
Cong shows us how to eat the banh xeo before we tuck in, slicing up the pancake a few times with his chopsticks before placing a large lettuce leaf inside, along with a mix of pork, prawns and bean sprouts, and a sprinkle of herbs on top for flavour. Then he covers it all with a smaller lettuce leaf, rolls everything together and dips in nuoc nam sauce.
My first bite is fresh, tasty and fragrant. There are a delicious array of textures from the crunchy lettuce and crispy pancake, but it is the dipping sauce that is the highlight and a perfect match with the lettuce wraps.
We move on and park our scooters down a narrow hidden lane outside a very hipster cafe, Cua Hang Cafe 81, which is decked out with an eclectic mix of memorabilia, from Buddhas and books to transistor radios and old-school furniture. Under glass on each tabletop are letters ranging from handwritten notes to official documents.
We're here to try Vietnam's famous coffee, which plays a big role in the local culture.
Every night after work, most women go to a coffee house until 10pm, while the men are at a bar drinking alcohol.
Ordering a coffee here has its own system, where you specify a level of strength from 1-8. I figure this beverage must be at least partially responsible for the kinetic energy of scooters in this city: "I take two coffees in the morning," says Cong, laughing. "One coffee so I have energy to eat my breakfast, and another after breakfast so I can ride my scooter."
I order a classic Vietnamese iced coffee (ca phe da) with condensed milk (sua), a popular way of drinking coffee here. I enjoy the sweetness immediately and the cool drink is just the ticket in such a humid place. I decide to swap my usual lattes for as many ca phe sua da as I can manage.
Our third stop for the night is seafood restaurant, BBQ Lua. To get there we have to do a lot of hustling through narrow alleyways where locals are cooking their dinner and doing their washing, and children are playing.
We perch on little green seats in front of the restaurant and the food we order is grilled right in front of us. The atmosphere is buzzing and smokily delicious, making me feel a little light-headed.
A rule of thumb when eating street food abroad is to follow the locals. Still, I am slightly taken aback when Cong asks me if I want a goby. Everyone laughs and reassures me it's a fish, so I decide to go for it. It arrives — one little marinated goby fish per skewer — and I can see its sharp little teeth being bared at me. After each is grilled for a few minutes, as instructed, I dip the little fish into tamarind sauce and nibble around the skewer and the bone of the fish. There is silence, and I can feel all eyes on me awaiting my response. "Tasty," I say, grimacing.
We also order seafood fried rice served in a hot pot, known as "fancy rice", but still ridiculously cheap for us. It's absolutely delicious.
To reach our final destination we cruise down yet another alley, but this one is a dead end.
On a concrete building nestled in the corner is a large red and white cartoon painting of men dancing with stereos on their heads.
A couple ahead of us enter the building through a discreet door with purple/pink light flooding out to light up an overhanging tree. As we get closer to the entrance I can
make out an acoustic version of Uptown Funk by Mark Ronson and Bruno Mars.
The music is banging and the place is jammed but everyone is pretty chilled, drinking and listening to the tunes, occasionally throwing in the odd dance move.
We sip a couple of cocktails and learn a few of the locals' moves before getting back on our scooters and riding off into the night. I want to rewind the clock and start over immediately.
GETTING THERE
Air New Zealand flies a seasonal twice weekly direct service from Auckland to Ho Chi Minh City, between June 23 and October 23. One-way Economy Class fares start from $709.
And no, it's not Sydney, Melbourne or the east coast.