Send My Mail Here- On the Road Part 5

My little road trip around the south eastern tip of Vietnam ended where many things end, Saigon.  I spent much of my time in Saigon searching for a special kind of sandwich.  I'm not even going to pretend that I'm doing big important things here.  I have no delusions of grandeur as far as my self importance goes.  We ended our trip eating kobe beef and sea urchin at a Japanese restaurant in district six.  We knew the chef so we downed a bottle of saki and a few beers together, and then we made our way home.  It was another night of eating and drinking well with great company.  That's more than good enough for me.

The restaurant was part of some resort built on the grounds of an old French villa along the Saigon river.

Writing this entry made me think of this song:

"With Tennesee Sour mash Whiskey on my Breath,

And Rosalee, Suzie and and Lucy on my mind,

I drove my old car down the dusty streets of this old border town.

But I never thought I'd get stuck here such a long long time.

I've got a million-dollar bill but they can't change it.

And they won't let me leave until my tab is paid,

So I might as well settle down

And buy the house another round.

Send my mail to the Rosarita Beach Cafe.

It was one of those hot dry dime-a-dozen Mexicali days,

When I fell through the doors of the Rosarita Beach Cafe.

And I got myself a table with a view of the breakers on the bay

And another cold Dos Equis on the way."

Warren Zevon, "The Rosarita Beach Cafe"