Eureka!
For the next couple of nights we're staying
a few miles south of Da Nang at a little lodge called 'Under The Coconut Tree'. Our accommodation is a delightful cottage constructed of bamboo and thatched palm. A place such as this was at the top of my bucket list for Vietnam. It's a home stay run by lovely people off the beaten path among private residences.
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| The blue dot marks our location |
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| Under the Coconut Tree Homestay |
Sa Pa - Lao Cai - Hanoi
We left SaPa in the North West border region of Vietnam in a Mercedes
mini-bus stuffed with fellow backpackers. I heavy mist had hung in the town all
day and by our 5.30 pm departure time it seemed to be thickening. All the seat
belts had been removed from the van so there was not even the option of the
false sense of security from a webbing strap over our lap. There were a few
murmurs among our fellow travellers concerning the horrible driving conditions on
the steep mountain road but we all just hunkered down and hoped for the best.
It was a relief to finally emerge from the heavy fog 40 minutes into the
one-hour rush to the Lao Cai Railway Station.
Hanoi - Huế
Again we joined a large throng boarding the ancient train and found
our rather dilapidated sleeping cabin for the overnight trip to Hanoi. The narrow
3’ gauge track makes for a rock-and-roll ride and we dozed our way through the
night, arriving in Hanoi at 6.00 am, just as the station was opening for the
day. At the ticket window Laura tried to enquire about train and ticket options
and was told “I just sell tickets. If you want information you have to go to
the information window.” There was no time for that so Laura put her foot down
and managed to learn that there was a train heading south in 10 minutes. The
only remaining seats were in 3rd class - hard wooden slat seats with no air
conditioning. We dashed to the train with our backpack waist straps flying,
boarding with minutes to spare. The trip to the ancient capital Huế would take us 14
hours.
A Vietnamese family had scooped our designated seats but we decided
that the language barrier made it easier to find other vacant seats rather than
haggle over our own. This was a mistake that we would come to regret several
times during the trip, for the various people who had been allocated the seats
that we usurped had no qualms about calling the conductor to sort out the
mix-up. In the end, Penny and I managed to stay put but Josh and Laura got
shunted around a couple of times before finally landing in their designated
seats.
Our first seat-mates were a young couple. At first he slept with his
head on her lap. After a while she got a little bored and producing a small
mirror, proceeded to deal with a few black heads around her nose. When stewards
moved through the carriage offering fast food, girlfriend ordered something but
the delivery arrived while she was away at the toilet and boyfriend was
oblivious to the order. When girlfriend got back to her seat and discovered
that boyfriend had allowed the stewards to take away her order she began
berating him at the top of her lungs in an exceptionally shrill voice, then
stormed off to chase down their food. Boyfriend just shrugged, obviously having
seen and heard it all before. The ferocity of her tirade quickly calmed to “you
silly old duffer” type language before they settled down to their shared meal,
with her spoon-feeding him baby-style. Afterwards boyfriend again lay his head
on her lap while girlfriend proceeded to meticulously clean his teeth with a
tooth pick. Boyfriend endured this with his eyes closed, humming a tune.
Later in our shared journey, girlfriend produced a bag of fresh
baguettes and small containers of sweetened condensed milk. After tucking in
for a few minutes she offered some to Penny and me. In our rush to change
trains in Hanoi we hadn’t had time to stock up with provisions so we accepted
the offer. As with all bread in Vietnam (thanks to the French colonial period)
this was fresh and delicious. The sweetened condensed milk dunk was an acquired
taste, which I preferred to plain bread. Pen passed on the dunking treat.
About 3 hours down the track we pulled into a crowded station where
we bid farewell to our new best friends and immediately knew that conditions in
our 3rd class carriage were about to change radically. People swarmed aboard
loaded with kids, baskets, bundles and bottles. The family of 5 across the
aisle from us were obviously seasoned travellers. As soon as they boarded they
settled in for the long day ahead. Two people lay on the short and narrow seats
designed to accommodate 4 passengers. Mats were laid our on the floor and two
women and a young boy stretched out under the seats where they promptly curled
up and went to sleep for several hours.
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| Surely my feet don't smell that bad! |
Our new seat mates were a young mum, dad and 3 or 4 year old boy - a bit of a tyrant who constantly pushed the
limits with his young mom. The dad left her to deal with him and wandered off
to find a different spot. Once in a while mom would get fed up with the bad behavior, speak sharply to the tyrant,
then pull out her cell phone and threaten to call the dad to
come deal with the problem. Usually the threat was enough to calm him down. Behind
us sat a better behaved 4 year old who periodically ran his toy motorcycle through our hair.
At our feet was a 4 gallon plastic tank of hooch with a piece of
plastic tied over the hole in place of the cap. At one point the rock and roll
of the train tipped it over and the make-do seal allowed some of the clear
liquid to leak on the floor before we discovered the problem. It must have been
pretty good hooch, because the spill evaporated in no time once I stood the
bottle up.
Around 11.00 am I went exploring and found that the next carriage
was a virtually empty diner. Several staff welcomed me warmly and bid me sit
down and have a meal. The rest of the family was feeling a little off from a
tummy upset the day before, but I was just recovering from several days of bad
cold and low appetite so I sat down and asked what was available. The stewards
spoke zero English so I raised both hands in the international “what have you
got” sign. One steward whipped a freshly delivered plate away from another
customer and flourished it in front of me. It contained 2 fried eggs, a fresh
baguette, tomato and cucumber. “Perfect!” said I. Piping hot Liptons Tea sweetened
with lashings of condensed milk was the perfect drink. We’d already learned
that “Vietnamese Coffee” wasn’t quite to our taste.
Looking out across an ever-changing landscape of rice paddies,
kitchen and market gardens interspersed with river and bushland scenes, I was
transported back 40 years to our original train travel in Asia and realized
that not much has changed. The rolling stock is original and the scenery quite
timeless. Fields scattered with workers in conical hats, bent double as they
tend their crops, and buffalo still pressed to the plough. Perhaps the only
difference is that the sound, smell and soot of the old steam engines had given
way to diesel electric locomotives.
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| Spectacular view thru the dirty train window |
