I often get asked why I came to Vietnam by both expats and Vietnamese people. Maybe they are expecting an adventurous yarn involving a backpack, a survival kit and the threat of deportation. If anything it involves a boring desk job, a steep learning curve and a wheely suitcase.

Spending three years in a London University, or rather, using the guise of a university education to hang out in London for the length of my degree, I finally loosened my grip on my student credit card and graduated right into the credit crisis/recession. Not wanting to return home until I’d conquered the capital, I stuck it out, kept my eye on the magazines in which I’d spent time doing work experience and temped my way through west London. At first the commute was all part of “life” in London, but it got old quickly and funnily enough data entry just isn’t as fun as it sounds, so I started planning my escape. A year passed and I’d truly had enough of the freezing cold mornings, hateful tube rides and endless excel spreadsheets. On a whim, I started applying to far off places I knew I couldn’t even afford to fly to. One such far flung place was Vietnam, the job: English teacher. I wasn’t qualified so I didn’t expect to get the job without the qualification, but I had a plan. I saved a few pay checks and high tailed it to Krakow, Poland to do what so many were and are still doing to avoid the depressing job situation at home, I got my CELTA teaching qualification. Oddly enough, Krakow was the cheapest place to do the month long teaching qualification, except for the Ukraine, but I’d missed the last application date, so Poland it was! Krakow still remains one of my most favourite cities; the perfect mix of freezing cold temperatures and warm spiced wine, as well as some of the most stunningly beautiful architecture I have ever seen. I thought it would be a breeze, this teaching qualification, but it was anything but. Scared out of my wits standing in front of a group of middle aged poles, telling them how to speak like me – terrifying. But I passed with a decent grade and returned home. Not expecting anything to come of it, I emailed the language school in Vietnam I had previously applied to and all of a sudden I had the job, the flight was booked (thanks mum!) and in one week from my Skype interview, I was on a plane to Ho Chi Minh City. There wasn’t enough time to get upset or excited, just enough time to get packed, see my family, watch them cry and remind them I was moving, not terminally ill. Then my plane was taking off from Heathrow airport and all of a sudden I let the realization of what was happening sink in, I was alone, on my way to Asia and everything I knew was getting smaller and smaller below me. I cried like a little baby. I landed at probably one of the worst times for a first timer in Vietnam. Vietnam had just won the football - bikes and flags were everywhere. I honestly thought this is what it was like all the time. My taxi weaved its way into District 1, my face glued to the window, my mouth a perfect “o” of disbelief. I’d done very little research into Vietnam before I travelled, I didn’t really have time, but what I do remember vividly is typing ho chi minh city into Google maps and getting my mum to come over and take a look at the lush green delta and pointing to somewhere in the middle and saying “That’s where I’ll be!”. I’ve had food poisoning, contracted chicken pox, made brilliant friends, discovered chili, found love, shouted at road users, bartered badly, learned to crochet, put on weight, lost it, met a celebrity and after two and a half very eventful years I am as settled as I am ever going to be. Although I miss the security and certainty of teaching, I took a leap of faith, got a freelance writing gig a year ago, a job in an NGO, developed the writing into a full time position and now I’m busier than I’ve ever been. I’ve seen Vietnam from a fair few angles, it’s not always been easy, or pleasant, but I’ve done a lot of growing up in Ho Chi Minh City, and despite the traffic driving me consistently insane, Saigon is home.