...falling on his arse

The rickety wooden sun lounger was already creaking as The One With The Common Sense sat down to enjoy the view across Halong Bay, northern Vietnam.
But when I lowered my more-than-ample behind into position alongside her, it was bound to end in tears.
The whole thing collapsed, sending our fellow passengers into howls of laughter as we thudded onto the deck.
Never has the term "junk" been more apt than in reference to the Halong Bay Party Cruiser we had the misfortune to hop aboard for a three-day tour.
We had opted for the budget trip rather than the promised "better boat, better food, better service" available on the $100+ versions, suspecting the offering would be pretty much the same. (After all, we didn't come all the way here to enjoy a mahogany bedside table.)
We were partly right. As we sat down to our first lunch to discover passengers had paid an array of prices through tour agents. One Japanese lady looked horrified when she heard how little we'd spent. I suspect she'd been stung.
Certainly, some of the other boats were much smarter - I don't think the pricier versions featured broken chairs, holes in the decking and protruding nails - but we shared our trip with people like ourselves and had the invaluable chance to trade a few travel tips.

The organisation was, frankly, terrible.
Our kayaking centre which did not have enough oars and we had to wait until another couple brought back a pair.
However, luck was shining on us and the timing meant we were able to paddle between the karsts (towering limestone islands) just as the sun was setting.
The party cruiser proved to be anything but - they played four Vietnamese dance tracks on repeat and most passengers headed to bed early. However, the One With The Common Sense and I sat up to enjoy a few beers under the stars on one of the few remaining intact sun loungers.
The weather was kind. Reports suggested it had been cold, wet and misty for weeks beforehand but after a clear night we were first up to enjoy a beautifully tranquil morning, complete with sunrise over one of the pinnacles. (Once I looked in the right direction).
We realised we had really lucked out when we met the group who were spending a night on Cat Ba island - a national park - rather than two on the boat, like us. They had suffered delays on buses and, while the island is great to explore, they ended up stuck in the environs of their hotel for much of their second day.
We called in at Cat Ba for a walk up a hillside. Having chosen the "adventure path", The One With The Common Sense wished she'd followed the guide's advice not to wear flip-flops as we scrambled up a the rocky hillside.
Others had similarly been lulled into a false sense of security because we met several rather portly people on the wrong side of middle age puffing and panting their way down.
Our reward at the top was the chance to climb an observation tower from which rust peeled as you grabbed the handrail and which swayed slightly in the wind.
Several people had already been to the top and survived - albeit rather ashen-faced - so I reasoned it was safe enough.
The One With The Common Sense this time lived up to her name and stayed at the bottom where, in any case, the view of the heavily-forested island was just as good.
Despite all its faults, we had a great trip and met some really nice people.

Anyway, chuc mung nam moi - or happy lunar new year - to you all.
The Tet holiday is a bit like Christmas at home. News reports feature nothing but traffic congestion and the weather as everyone heads back to their family home.
We saw in the year of the cat in beautiful Hoi An. It doesn't matter how touristic some places are, they retain their magic.
Like York, Concarneau in Brittany or Santiago de Compostella in Galicia, this medieval town's secret is the winding lanes and passages of the old town.
There, we found a guest house which looked like it hadn't been altered for hundreds of years in the back of a souvenir shop.
Perhaps because Hoi An's people are so used to tourists, they seemed more laid back, with less of the hard-sell that can spoil some places in Vietnam.
Along with a festival of brightly-coloured lanterns and the usual fireworks, we were able to enjoy our first taste of bia hoi.
Probably the cheapest lager in the world, at 21p for a half pint, it can be quite moreish for the budget traveller. Unlike most beer here, it's served on tap. Its origins remain a mystery.
Given it was new year's eve, we enjoyed a few scoops. When I woke up the night to relieve my bladder, however, I suffered a serious dizzy spell.
I had to sit down and give a limp cry of "help" for The One With The Common Sense to lead me - sweating and scared witless - back to bed. Obviously, that was a side effect of my malaria pills.
Hoi An was also memorable for being the place I found my new favourite bin lorry. It uses an ice cream van-like siren to call the shopkeepers out with their rubbish. But rather than playing London Bridge, or some other common Mr Whippy ditty, it sounded like the soundtrack to a Spectrum kung fu game. Brilliant.

After our previous nightmare bus journey, we opted for the overnight train to get to Hanoi for the Halong Bay trip.
I'm a sucker for a train ride at the best of times but with a cool name like the Reunification Express, how could I resist?
We opted not to pay extra for the sleeper carriage and instead enjoyed a sound night's sleep on a reclining chair - that is, when we weren't being prodded by the feet of the girl sitting behind.
It was a highly entertaining journey. Before we got on, I took a picture of the stampede to get to the carriages and found I'd inadvertently snapped a family watching a little girl having a wee on the platform.
Later, we saw one man instructing his little boy to wee into a beer can, in full view of the carriage. (I'd always use a pint glass for safety reasons).
I stuck to the WCs for this trip, however, and reckon I could solve Virgin Trains' problem of stinking toilets.
South-east Asia's hole-in-the-ground model was spotless, easy to use and had none of the annoying buttons which occasionally seem to open the door unbidden at a crucial moment. (Yes, I have seen that happen).