I met them for the first time only recently, (long story) and this visit is to be only our second meeting. I am very nervous about the family reunion and I'm not sure if we will have any similarities or even have anything in common, but as I get to know them, it is clear that we all share the same strong passion for food.

My ‘sister two’ and her husband own a fishing boat which they use to catch anchovies to sell to various fish sauce manufacturers around town. My ‘brother three’ and his wife have a street food stand selling slow braised offal. And my ‘sister four’ and her husband care for a dragon fruit plantation selling wholesale to markets in HCMC. When we are all together, all we talk about is food, recipes and different cooking techniques. I learn quite a lot from them in the short amount of time we spend together, and they even offer a few of their recipes for my cook book The Songs of Sapa.

When the film crew and I arrive into PhanThiet, my siblings take us all out to one of their favourite seafood restaurants where we get to choose our own live fish, crabs and prawns from the tank. It is a seafood banquet served with lots of beer. Wayne, our cameraman, is their favourite as he picks up all the Vietnamese swear words very quickly and isn’t afraid to use them.

Several cases of beer later we head to a karaoke bar, which isn’t a ‘bar’ really. You actually get a private room with a state of the art sound system and a huge projector screen - they take their karaoke very seriously in Asia. We sing, laugh and bond throughout the night.

My sister two tells me to get to Mui Ne beach super early the next morning to catch the trading of fresh seafood on the beach. We are all a bit hung over, but Mui Ne is luckily only 20 minutes away.

Our bus stops on a hill overlooking the beach which is dotted with women in conical hats squatting next to mountain loads of seafood. Hundreds of colourful fishing boats anchor, bringing their fresh catch into shore. I jump out of the bus and run down the stairs to get amongst it all.

There's so much energy down here, I can hardly hear myself speak as ladies shout and scream at each other haggling for better prices, sometimes getting quite aggressive.

Baskets full of prawns, crabs, squid, fish and clams are weighed and sold. Each one of the baskets weighing 20 kg or more and each one of the tiny ladies balancing two on a bamboo yoke and carrying it on their shoulder for kilometres, selling it onto other markets or to restaurants.

I decide to ask one of the ladies if I can have a go – bad mistake! I am amazed at how heavy they are; all that weight on one shoulder! I only make it twenty metres before I have to rest. A bit of entertainment for the women for the day - they all laugh hysterically at me. I have so much admiration for these women, they deserve a good giggle.

I leave the beach with a sore shoulder to visit some cottage industries where they make rice noodles and rice paper all by hand. Going into these homes and watching the families work, I feel as if I have stepped back in time where age old traditions and techniques are still being practised, passed down from generation to generation. Such hard and intricate work, with such little return – but made with much love and passion. I leave there very proud of my heritage and culture, and greatly appreciate the strong connection I have with food.