The word of this week has been cool, in both senses and possibilities of the word!

My last full day in Nha Trang was made amazingly amazing by doing a scuba dive! My first time ever, and I will be honest I was a bit nervous. But a team of divers drove us out to crystal clear waters, laden us up (that tank is heavier than The Bag and I had to be saved from toppling by a small Vietnamese man) and gave us enough safety instructions to chill me out a bit!

And then it was flippering up and launching myself into the water with Victoria, my chatty English instructor. Victoria was with me the whole time, sorting out all my gear and pointing me in the right direction, all I had to do was kick and goggle.

It was incredible. It was just how it looks on the Discovery Channel and the colours and shapes and patterns are just out of this world. I just felt that I didn't have enough eyes to take it all in!

It doesn't seem real down there. Especially as you are floating and gliding in this strange world - its almost more like flying than swimming. My nerves disappeared in a second and I loved every moment of it. It is also incredibly relaxing as all the worries of the world are completely detached, and you are absorbed by the lives and journeys of the creatures surrounding you. It was wonderful experience and will not be the last!

From Nha Trang I waved good bye to the beach and boarded a bus up into the Highlands; a bus which was almost empty (save a few Germans) which assured me that I had made the right choice!

We winded up and up for about six hours, through tiny wooden villages where children played and old ladies dug holes in the dusty yards, before finally emerging at the top in a funny little town called Dalat.

Dalat attracts Vietnamese tourists as it is much cooler, more like a disappointing English summers day than the inferno of the Vietnamese coast, and they wrap themselves up in woolly hats and scarves like its winter!

With the green rolling mountains and wooden, almost chalet-like houses, it feels, at times, like the alps. Which is odd to say the least.

The minute the Germans and I jumped off the bus we were hounded by hotel owners wanting our trade, I was practically begged to take a room with two double beds, a bathroom, a balcony and a TV for 3.50GBP a night!

It seems to be off-peak season, and I discovered why the following day when it rained and rained and rained. Still, being English and rain-hardy, it didn't dampen my excitement of spending the day exploring the highlands on the back of a very flashy motorbike behind a flashy long-haired chappie called Tuan!

Not only was the landscape beautiful, but my guide, Tuan gave me a fascinating insight into the lives of some of the locals.

Beneath the designer jacket and sunglasses, he was born a peasant boy and spent his childhood collecting wood on the mountain for his little village, which only had electricity for the first time in 1996.

After spending a cold night on the mountain when his ox failed to carry him home, he vowed to change his life, and enrolled into the local university.

Eight years later and Tuan now has a degree, his own business and a life he is proud of. "Everything I have," he told me proudly as the wind whipped past our faces, "I have earned myself. My dream is to be able to buy a house of my own someday."

I was humbled by how hard this man had worked to reap the rewards he now enjoys. It made me realise how very lucky I am, and how much I take for granted.

Tuan also introduced me to more delights of Vietnamese cooking: spring rolls. For a pound you are given thin rice paper pancakes, a plate of spring onions, veggies, little sausages and crispy crackers, which you wrap up and dip in this sweet-peanut sauce mmmmmm. Really, really good.

As this morning was another wet and fairly chilly day (yes, I will admit, I got my jumper out) I was ready to be moving back to the heat and boarded my bus to Ho Chi Minh City with excitement.

Despite being a day trip, it was a sleeper bus with reclining seats, so I lazed around reading my book as we wobbled down the bumpy track towards Vietnams busiest city.

Rain and traffic and 8 bum-numbing hours and I am finally here, raring to explore (and move my legs for a bit!).

It feels like a milestone: Hanoi and HCM are like the goalposts of Vietnam, and I feel like I have travelled the whole pitch (apologies for the dodgy metaphor, the heat is probably getting to my brain). A weekend of new discoveries awaits!