I was standing on a street corner in Hoi An yesterday, looking rather more gormless than usual, and wondering whether I should buy a kilo of rambutans or just escape the heat, drink iced coffee and try to look bohemian, when a pretty young thing approached me and introduced herself. The usual pleasantries were exchanged:

“Hello Madam – where you from?”

“Australia.”

“Nice to meet you.” Hand extended, duly shaken.

“Madam, have you seen this before?” holding up her fingers, some of them covered with strips of aluminium foil. Around these fingers is looped a length of white cotton thread, which she displays proudly, twists and pulls taut. She points to my upper lip.

“To take off hair, Madam. I can do for you now. You want to try?”

“Ahhhh…” (pretending to give this some serious thought) “No thanks, not right now.” And certainly not on a street corner.

She must have read my mind. “You come my shop, over there!” She points. “Very cheap. Traditional method, hair grows back much finer… I do good job for you.”

The sun is beating down on my addled brain and I have visions of my face now resembling those heavily whiskered rambutans I was just looking at on the street stall. “I don’t think …”

“But Madam, you must!”

“Must I?”

“Yes Madam…”

I didn’t. Like an ass, I fled back to hotel room instead (sans rambutans or iced coffee but, I like to think, with a certain galloping bohemian gait) and studied upper lip for signs that I had turned into Wolf Woman.

Couldn’t see it myself but you never know what happens after a full moon….