There are more than 8 million motorbikes in Saigon/Ho Chi Minh City.
That's a fact. Most are mopeds.
To put that into proportion, the population of this sprawling Vietnamese city is 13 million. Imagine if most of them drove cars?
When you think you've seen the wildest on-bike combination, maybe a family, one child on dad's knees with a second tucked in behind and mum on the back or a man and four Chihuahuas, say, someone will ride past with a metre-cubed of polystyrene boxes stacked on the back … or a pallet of bricks…even in monsoonal rain …
It's not just the carrying power that is fascinating, it's the way this tsunami of bikes, side-by-side with cars, buses and trucks, all blend, even when some are going the wrong way up one-way streets.
By the end of the first week, I was doing it without really thinking.
I got the occasional toot, but this was more a gentle reminder to let me know others were close.
On foot, in taxis, a tour van and on the back of a scooter for night time adventures with my wonderful guides and fearless scooter pilots, Thao from Saigon Adventures and Diem from Vietnam Vintage Vespas in Ha Noi, I never heard more than mild parps or saw a raised fist. There was a seamlessness about it that is a wonder.
Part of this has to be an unwritten realisation and underlying awareness that if there were road rage or accidents the whole system would cease to function.
The best way to travel in Vietnam's big cities is by scooter. Photo / Supplied
I'm sure it's also connected to mutual respect and maybe an element of Buddhism with reincarnation only a death away.
The Vietnamese are also a friendly and welcoming nation. They'd have every right not to be after the damage inflicted by successive invasions over centuries.
The country is experiencing its most sustained period of peaceful coexistence for a very long time and seems to have come to terms with most of the countries that have put it through the wringer over the years (including ours, if only as a sidekick to the United States).
One tour I took was to the underground hamlet of Cu Chi, on the banks of the Sai Gon River, built during the "American War" as the HQ of the Sai Gon Military Zone of the Viet Cong.
On the drive out we visited a workshop where disabled folk created artworks form polished eggshell, mother of pearl and rosewood.
Many of the workers were the fourth generation on from men and women who'd suffered the after-effects of the Agent Orange or dioxin that the Americans sprayed on their country as part of Operation Ranchhand - when they weren't dumping triple the ordinance that was dropped in the entire World War II.
The rule is don't mess with the Vietnamese. It may take decades, generations, even centuries, but they'll eventually see anyone off with the same, almost unnerving tranquillity they navigate daily traffic.
