Thousands of motorcycles cram the streets of Saigon roaring and moving like a motorized Tsunami. The flow has a life of its own. For pedestrians there are no crossings. Find a lull in the flow then walk slowly, I was advised - that way they can go round you. On no account run.
Honda is the preferred machine. Knock-offs are available but often have a life expectancy of two weeks.
Whole families pile onto the motorcycles. Saturday night they take the the streets, four or five crammed on riding pillion - children sitting on wicker booster seats, babies wedged in. They drive around in an endless roar and swirl, drivers occasionally checking cell phones.
Helmets are now obligatory, and so it seems are the face masks. Sometimes covering the whole head. The purpose is to protect the skin from the harshness of the streets and the sun. They give the tidal wave of traffic the personna of aliens. Run (try to walk) for your life - thousands of faceless riders are reving up their machines.
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