07. Hanoi – The sense of Vietnam
Damien has just got off the minibus. The young guy I sat with on the flight from Moscow to Hanoi, and the only person I can rightfully say to know in
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06. In the middle earth
I leave home early in the morning. It's Easter Eve. London is still enfolded in its infinite chilly shades of grey. Sleepy buses collect few workers from the roads, letting the pavements
