  Ok, so I did actually see some Westerners, two of whom were on a cyclo, in the tourist district on the way back to the airport. The cute chick quotient had completely exploded, with nightfall, making me vasodilate. The return flight was weirdly different, with the cabin crew being even ruder. I was seated with this couple who I’d actually met while we’d been transiting in Saigon and they had their four-month y.o. bub with them. He was a beautiful little bubba, incredibly well-behaved and happy, really inquisitive, and obviously out of his mind with sleep deprivation. They weren’t too keen to have me sitting with them, since they wanted space, but I was overjoyed to be able to spend the time with their bub, having a thing for bubs as I do. I am sensitive to allegations of paedophilia on this front, so don’t even touch it. I slept most of the way anyway, which was definitely a good thing, as was had had like 6 hours sleep over the two nights combined before I’d started travelling.
Most of the way into the flight little bubba’s dad discovered that we had entertainment consoles built into the armrests, which allowed me to watch a big slice of LOR The Return of the King. The bits in Mordor were irksome, the Liv Tyler bits remain intolerable, but the subtly racialist battle scenes literally made my nipples hard with delight. My transfer in Paris was very smooth. 
