Going to Ciputra

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Boring day.. studying, preparing for CELTA
Going to meet the touch team at JAFA bar at Ciputra, supposedly a 15 min drive away
I decide to take my motorbike and check the map. It looks easy and the directions get sent by text message.
At the end of my street I turn left, onto the Vietnamese highway,
Staying left – fast lane, move into the right side and cruise along “I got this”
Next thing, road splits, and I’m on a bridge to the other side of town
The sun is setting, I don’t have a torch. Or any idea where I am.
Going over the bridge, can’t turn around
Head north on the wrong side of the river, until I find the other bridge to get to the east
Massive traffic jam
Lovers leap on the bridge by Eiffel
Finally on the right road going north… But where am I?
Stop and ask for directions.. 4kms
End up at the bar… find my friend, ice cream and American television… then to the bar to watch the rugby.
I meet a French guy,
He shows me the way home, then invites me to fancy hotel for drinks
Walk in… The music is so loud, the band is so bad, off key version of YMCA,
Plenty of white old men, young Vietnamese girls with short skirts… I’m the only blonde female there…
Next thing I know, my French friend is going to the bathroom, followed closely by a lithe Vietnamese woman with a slinky green dress.
I don’t see him again. Yellow fever.