It was a typically hot and humid day as we walked down a busy street on our way to visit the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum. Convoys of bicycles, scooters and motorcycles passed by, blasting us with dust, exhaust smoke and air horns. Some bore so many baskets of goods that they seemed like shops on wheels. One scooter rider startled us as he zoomed past with a freshly slaughtered pig draped across his footrest.