Solo Woes

I have a confession to make.

This is the longest I've ever traveled by myself, and definitely the longest I've ever backpacked by myself.

I am learning all sorts of things about solo travel and about myself, the primary one being that I don't think I like traveling alone.

Case Study:

Yesterday evening I began the journey back to Hanoi, which necessitates a one-hour minibus trip through the mountains to Lao Cai, where the train station is.

When the minibus (basically a van) pulled up, it was almost completely full. The hotel called another minibus to take the group of foreigners, but since I was by myself they crammed me in (against my will) with all the Vietnamese and their many many many many bags.

The next hour might have been really amusing if I'd had someone to share it with and laugh about it with over a cold beer in Lao Cai.

The tiny child sitting in the seat in front of me alternated between playing "Let's-stare-at-the-funny-looking-foreigner" and "Let's-see-how-much-noise-I-can-make."

The man next to me, in a true testament to our driver's skill, began throwing up into a plastic bag about 20 minutes into the trip and did not stop.

At least two more people in the row in front of me picked up on the cue and started vomiting into their plastic bags. The older kids in the front seat thought it was funny and decided to make gagging noises as a sort of joke.

So there I was, for a good 40 minutes, completely unable to enjoy the views and the ride because I was getting vomiting noises in complete stereo surround sound, the breeze just wasn't clearing out the smell, and on top of that the child in the seat in front of me decided he wanted to keep trying to open my backpack.

A more acute form of torture there may be, but I've yet to experience it (airports come close).

When we arrived in Lao Cai, all I wanted was to get out, but two women were blocking my way since they were still throwing up. In the end I lost patience and just stepped over them and probably on them in my haste to get away.

I had three hours before my train would leave. Lots of people had set up little stands around the square in front of the train station, and if I'd had a companion it would have been great to sit out there in the "fresh" air, drink some bia hoi ("fresh beer") and laugh about all the puking. Instead I slinked off to a cafe and read a book until I figured I could bear to shoulder my backpack a bit longer and walk around.

The train was ok, until at 5:00 am (we arrived at about 5:45) everyone turned on their televisions at the highest possible volume and let their kids run screaming up and down the train. I walked about 20 minutes through the 6:00 am heat (yes, it's already hot) with all my stuff, and found that damn near every hotel is closed, so here I am!

These are just some of the daily joys of travel that you usually don't hear about. Don't let it put you off too much. They will make great stories one day, but at the time they can be pretty trying. I guess I just wish I had someone to share both the good and bad with.


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Part of trip: Roving, Roving, Roving

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