...from commercial air travel I have decided. It's just not exciting any more. Once upon a time a flight to anywhere was an event... they wore suits and furs and jewels, they dined in actual dining rooms on the planes... they smoked cigars... now a flight to anywhere is just an inconvenience to get somewhere, and for the airlines you are just an inconvenience they tolerate to make money. The same, for me at least, can't be said for trains. But we will get to that.
The verdict on Saigon after three days was that it is a good town, but slightly confusing. For a town of six million it has a tiny city centre. Obviously your average Vietnamese person living in the suburbs with little money doesn't have a lot of use for a city centre, but for the number of foreigners packed into its little tourist area, there is actually very little to do at night. Most bars, what there are, close at midnight or 1am. Only two, the biggest and most western on the main strip, are open late. And they aren't even good, although Allezboo (hahahah... a-lez-bo) (ok I know it's pronounced Alliboo, stupid French) is not a bad spot to sit and watch the normal Saigon traffic chaos. Rob the Canadian, who I met on the bus down, and I walked for hours trying to find the nightlife. But there is none. We even got desperate enough to jump on a couple of motos (scooter taxis) and go flying off into the drizzly night to a place called Apocalypse Now, which a friend of Rob's had told him was a "bar he had to see"... it was certainly packed out but it only took a few seconds after walking in to figure out all the guys were western but all the girls were Vietnamese, and in very small dresses. We finished our beer and got straight back on motos to the other bar.
Yesterday was mostly walking around again (and some hopping and swearing after I stood on a chunk of concrete with a nail in it and drove it about 2cm into my heel... yet another reason I detest jandals), just seeing what there was to see. My train was booked and I could only get on the late one, 2330, so we ended up back at Allezboo, peoplewatching again, to the tune of a million car, bus, van, truck and scooter horns. If there are two lasting memories I will carry from Saigon, it will be the incessant (I mean incessant, all day and half the night, one on top of another on top of another) tooting, and the constant harrassment from frikkin street hawkers and beggars... it got to the point where you just wanted to punch the little kid trying to sell you gum right in the head, seriously. They come one after the other, regardless of if you are sitting, standing, walking, eating, whatever... Mr want a book? Mr buy some gum? Mister, one dollar? baby hungry... Mr want moto? Mr where you going? Mr what you looking for? Mr, tuktuk? You can literally (this happens) get out of a tuktuk somewhere, and a guy in another tuktuk will watch you get out, and ask if you want a tuktuk. I bought a couple of books for the train trip from one of the book girls, who walk around carrying a stack of books on their hip literally as tall as they are, tied together with white ribbon. There was a long and protracted bargaining session and after much arguing and her standing and pondering and pouting for about five minutes, she decided with much frowning to take what I was offering. She pouted some more, as if I was taking food directly from her children's mouths. She walked away, looking back, frowning, shaking her head. And then she went and replaced the two books I had bought from her stack with two others, and then came back and tried to sell me those two.
So after another long wait I got to the train station via taxi, and nearly ended up punching my driver in the mouth also when he tried to tell me the meter was not working and charge me 100,000 dong. The meter said 40,000. He gave up reasonably quickly though, I guess figuring he was going to struggle to get me and all my gear out of his back seat unless he gave me my change. And I was not in the best mood.
As I said I still love trains... arriving at a train station and walking across the platform to find your carriage as the great hulking beast sits there rumbling and fuming... it's still a cool feeling every time, it's an event... And then thundering off across the countryside, bringing traffic to a halt, watching the world fly by, day and night, roaring on and on, screeching and scraping and rumbling and tooting... The 2330 train north this night was fairly full, in the Vietnamese trains the bunks are in cabins of four (for the best ones) or six (for the cheaper harder ones) and arranged east-west across the carriage rather than the Malaysian and Thai style north-south down each side of the carriage. They also had no curtains, meaning while you didn't have people walking past you up and down the aisles all night, you also didn't have any privacy from the three strangers you were bunking with. And the constant side-to-side swaying of the train, which rocks you like a baby in the Malaysian and Thai bunks, kind of makes you feel like you are sleeping in a cocktail shaker in Vietnam. I ended up bunkmates with a French couple who must have booked early as they got the favoured bottom bunks, and a Vietnamese girl on the opposite top bunk. The Frenchies obviously had a selection of massive suitcases meaning I had to cram (with some effort) my pack under one of their bottom bunks and then couldn't get to it after. Anyway before long everyone went to bed, the Vietnamese girl so disturbed about sharing a cabin with foreigners she slept with her handbag still on and her reading lamp blazing all night. I had a pretty rubbish sleep, I was already a bit sweaty and smelly from the day and I couldn't change my clothes as they were under a sleeping Frenchman (come on, it's happened to all of us right?), and I didn't want to strip down to sleep for fear of the Vietnamese girl screaming rape at the sight of my bare chest, so I slept clothed and smelly and sweated further and woke with the dawn pretty grimy.
But what a dawn it was... by the time the sun tried to peek through the clouds we were on the coast and I awoke to look out from my top bunk onto huge waves breaking over rocks below us. I got up and managed to access the top of my pack for a change of clothes and some soap, and soon was feeling much less gross. Despite the state of the toilets, which is generally best not discussed on any South East Asian train. I had already decided reports of a 29 hour train journey were greatly exaggerated, I finally figured out after much puzzling that the silly cow I got my ticket from was reading the Saigon-Hanoi travel times not the Saigon-Hue ones.
The train journey was by far one of the highlights of the trip so far, not the train so much but the countryside. After the endless palm plantation followed by rice paddies of Malaysia, Thailand and Cambodia, the Vietnamese landscape was awesome. I actually spent the entire day standing in the corridor to one side of the carriage, with the window open and my head and camera stuck out (for all the other windows were too filthy to take photos through). There was a lot of flooding around for it is the rainy season here and they have been getting it in bucketloads. But there were also farms and mountains and fog and coastline and waves and cliffs and waterfalls... it was great.
We rolled into Hue about 5, 16 hours rather than 29, and it is pretty cloudy and drizzly, despite not being far above the sea it feels like a mountain town, it is cool enough to be nearly chilly and for the first time I can walk around without sweating like an idiot. All the locals are in puffer jackets and scarves of course, but to me it is just pleasant after a month of raw heat. It seems like a very nice town, my opinions are usually formed fast and probably based on my mood, but apart from anther argument with a taxi driver (this one had his meter covered up as if he didn't have one and tried to tell me 50,000... I ended up paying 29,000) the locals seem truly nice. I got a cheap room and went and had a slightly pricey dinner, but I was sold when they said they specialised in traditional Hue-an food... interesting... unwrapped dumplings... so basically a plate covered in gooey gelatinous goo with various toppings... but the local soup that followed was much better.
I was a little disheartened about two hours after I got here when the first mammoth luxury tour bus rolled past, followed by two more... I was further disheartened when I went for a walk and saw the inferno of neon on the other side of the river... But I think for the most part my impressions will hold. It has a small-town feel, and the people are not pushy or impatient or annoying... except for the moto drivers, who are an infestation spanning Asia... Mr want moto? Mr where you going? Mr where you from? Mr I help you, one hour tour? (and then half-whispered...) Mr, want beautiful lady? Mr want marijuana? etc etc etc...
Tomorrow I will do some exploring and see what there is to see... obviously the nightlife is not huge as I have already done my wander and am back waffling on... I had better pack this up so the old Vietnamese lady who owns the place can sleep, I think I am the only person staying here... Righto, hope all is good, thanks for the emails and keep them coming...
No comments:
Post a Comment