In Case You Are Mildly Curious...

I've been home for a week; and that time consists of doing housework from top to bottom and going to the gym. Neither of which I'm fond of... So, I let my mind wander and find my thoughts are in Vietnam again!

There’s something deeply humbling about getting your nails done in Vietnam when you’re a middle-aged Australian woman whose entire beauty routine at home mostly consists of “that’ll do.”

The Vietnamese girls are tiny, immaculate creatures with perfect skin, glossy hair and the hand speed of caffeinated spiders. Meanwhile I arrive looking like someone who’s fought a lawn mower with her hair and it's so hot I had it in plaits most of the time!

I sat down confidently and immediately became aware of my feet.

Why do feet suddenly become horrifying the second another human professionally examines them?

At home you think: "These are perfectly normal feet.”

Under salon lighting? You’ve apparently dragged Frodo to Mordor barefoot.

The girl smiled politely while holding my hand in the same way a mechanic examines a damaged alternator.

Then came the colours.

Vietnamese nail salons have approximately 84 million shades of pink. Every single sample stick looked identical until you held them under the light where suddenly one became “Dusty Rose Sunset” and another was apparently “Peach Champagne Whisper.”

I chose one entirely at random because panic had set in.

Then the massage started.

Now listen. These women do not gently moisturise your hands. They attack knots in your shoulders you didn’t even know existed. At one point I think I briefly left my body.

The Squeeze sat nearby getting increasingly nervous because every ten minutes another tiny woman would appear carrying strange instruments that looked medically unnecessary.

And somehow — somehow — despite all this chaos, I walked out feeling like a glamorous international woman of mystery instead of someone who earlier nearly fell asleep in a bowl of noodles.

That’s the magic of Vietnam.

One minute you’re sweating through your underpants while crossing the road in terror. The next minute you’re sitting in a nail salon being aggressively exfoliated into a better person.

Oh why can't I be back there! I barely thought of Trump or the stupid impending war!