Walking Wounded In Vietnam

Occasionally on our travels someone in a group will become ill or hurt themselves but to have three injured on the same trip is unusual to say the least.

Our stay in Vietnam was half over. We’d done Ho Chi Minh; the group had been rendered speechless at

a) the sheer numbers of mopeds and bikes and
b) the amount of cargo it’s possible to load onto the back of one (4 people at a time, a fridge, a door – you name it we saw it wobbling along).

We’d visited the Cu Chi tunnels (one of the group got stuck) and now we’d arrived in Hanoi for one night before heading up to Halong Bay.

The first casualty occurred as we checked into the hotel and funnily enough it wasn’t a member of the group at all, it was my Second in Command. She was very helpfully trying to assist one of porters with someone’s case (why?) and just like that – pop – her back went.

That was her 'out' for the rest of the trip but the very reason we tour managers travel in pairs is in case of situations like this so I mentally prepared myself to have all 66 of the group to myself. Like Hermione Granger in the Harry Potter Books, I’d need to be in several places at once but I’m pretty fast on my feet so I dashed up to get changed for dinner, did a quick advance check of the local restaurant and was waiting to greet the group as they boarded the coaches.

Dinner was superb. It was at Bobby Chin’s - Vietnam’s answer to a celebrity TV chef - and I knew the group would love it. The food was superb, the décor was quirky and we’d brought in a DJ for after dinner.

Come 10.30pm the dance floor was crowded and the party was in full swing. Energy was high and at least 50 mature, well-heeled, successful dealers were strutting their stuff like something out of High School Musical.

The first sign of potential trouble was when the very glamorous wife of one of the dealers hiked up her skirt and did a cartwheel across the dance floor. I was mid-dance myself and stumbled uncertainly for a moment, not quite believing what I’d just seen as the culprit was now bopping about quite demurely on the edge of the crowd but the expression on everyone else’s face convinced me that I hadn’t imagined it and we all carried on. (Under sustained interrogation the next day the perpetrator told me that it’s her party trick, she waits for the right moment, knocks out a little cartwheel and then carries on innocently. I tell you, it’s the quiet ones you’ve got to watch and whoever said life begins at forty got it spot on!!)

This display of acrobatics seemed to ramp up the energy on the dance floor and chuckling to myself I turned to get a drink, just in time to see another of the wives finish a startling Billy Elliot impression and then crumple to the floor.

We got her to a quite corner, summoned waiters, ice packs, doctors and whatever else we thought might make her more comfortable. (Someone offered tequila but I’ve never seen it on any list of acceptable medical treatments so felt I should put my foot down at that point (which is more than my invalid could do).

One visit to the casualty department later and her leg was impressively strapped up with an official diagnosis of a torn hamstring.

The next morning, I left her and Second in Command settled comfortably at the hotel (being lovingly attended by a fleet of hotel staff) and departed for the train station so that the group could get to Halong Bay for an overnight stay on a beautiful boat.

All I had to do was get them on the train. They had to get off the coaches, walk about 5 minutes along the street and then onto the train platform. Sounds simple eh?

But no, another one of the wives (yes, I know, what was it with the girls on this one?) was so distracted by the sight of a passing moped carrying 3 people, 4 cages of chickens and 3 boxes of fruit that she stepped off the kerb into a pot-hole. You didn’t need to be a doctor to figure out that she’d dislocated her ankle – it was hideous!!.

I had 64 people waiting for me to get on a train so the only thing to do was to get my latest casualty and her husband into a taxi and send them off to the local emergency room with one of my English speaking guides. I rang the hotel and Second in Command and told them to expect the wounded and to make sure that they were taken very good care of overnight until the group returned from Halong Bay.

Deciding not to take it personally that my group appeared to be dropping like flies I pressed on and the rest of the day/night proceeded smoothly and with no further disasters. The train ride was fun - especially when the group saw the local farmers and water buffalo that we’d positioned in one of the fields en route – all wearing client t-shirts (yes, even the buffalo) and waving branded flags. Everyone loved Halong Bay, loved the candle lit dinner in a remote cave even more and by the time we returned to Hanoi late the next day they were relaxed and in very good spirits – the perfect mood to undertake one of our specially created team challenges in Hanoi’s old markets..

And what of my 3 wounded soldiers? Concerned that they’d been bored and in pain whilst we’d been off enjoying ourselves, the first thing I did on setting foot back at the hotel was call their rooms and try to track them down to make sure everything was OK.

It took me half an hour. When I eventually located them they were lined up on sun-loungers by the pool, mid manicure/ massage/facial, complimentary cocktails in hand, drunk as skunks and in the process of the longest giggling fit I’ve ever seen. It was like a Beverly Hills 90210 remake of M*A*S*H and it appeared they were quite happily recovering without me - so leaving Second in Command to convince the hotel that more alcohol was the only solution I resisted the temptation to prod a few bandages to check for malingerers and left them to numb the pain to their hearts’ content while I went to check that the troupe of vietnamese dancers I'd booked for our colonial french gala dinner had learnt how to do the can-can (now that nearly gave me my own injury.......)