We visit the Presidential Palace, now a museum. The heat is intense, large crowds. On the grounds are replicas of the first two tanks to crash into the palace gates and lead the onslaught. The originals are in the War Museum in Hanoi. The palace is elegant yet simple. It is more an office complex than a palace. It is no Versailles. We see the rooms where the President met honored guests, held strategy meetings, cabinet meetings, official dining rooms. In the basement is a bunker with communications devices, meeting rooms, a map room, even a bedroom for the President. One of our guides says, “The Americans came to help us resist the Communist invasion. So did the Australians, the South Koreans, others.” He gives us a capsule summary of events. We did not get the party line. It’s complicated. He tries to be careful not to express his views. He is Catholic.

We visit the Post Office, designed by Gustave Eiffel. Beautiful. Very French. A high barrel glass ceiling. Directly next to this beautiful and historic building: MacDonald’s. Across the street: the Grand Norte Dame Cathedral, now covered with scaffolding. In the distance, we see, is the old CIA building, not tall or impressive, but the scene of the desperate helicopter evacuations in 1975.

I begin to understand that the official name of the city may be Ho Chi Minh City, but locals call it Saigon. They say it is because the word Saigon has two syllables, while HMC has five. They insist it’s not political. The listener is not sure.

We stop to visit a lacquer factory but I’m too tired to take the tour. We return to the hotel and go out for lunch. The guide tells us the secret of crossing streets: walk steadily and quickly, never pause or stop. The scooters will avoid you but they can do this only if you walk at a steady clip. It worked. The city has millions of scooters.

The heat, the crowds, the jet lag are getting to me today. At night we (about 48 people) take a dinner cruise on the Saigon River. The city is lit up. Tomorrow we embark on the cruise on the Mekong River. (Several other passengers are retired New York City school teachers.)