A Typical Bus Ride

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After a couple of days in Vientiene, and with time on my visa running out, I decided to head on to Vietnam. A quick visit to a nearby travel agent and I soon had a ticket in hand for a bus bound for Hue (pronounced Hway) which is on the coast about halfway down. The man selling me the ticket told me a minivan would pick me up at 5:00 pm to take me to the bust station.

I showed up a bit before 5 for the ride to the bus station and was informed that the taxi actually came at 5:30. So I waited, and fulfulling my expectations was picked up at 6:25 pm. I was quickly loaded and we made our way to the bus station. It was a decent bus for Laos, but still a far cry below a normal air conditioned Greyhound liner. I tried to get on the bus, but they told me it was full and to get on the other bus. I did so, then quickly found out that I was on a bus bound for Hanoi. So I performed a rapid about-face and pushed my way back onto the other bus. I couldn't tell if there were any seats and so plunked down on the floor in an area near the back that was missig about 4 sets of seats for luggage storage. At this point I astutely observed that the AC wasn't working by the fact that I was immediately was drenched in sweat. After about an hour all the people were loaded on and the bags where all tied to the roof. The bus was packed, with every seat full, people sitting on stools down the aisle and a circle of Laotians sitting on mats in the aread where the bags had been. I began pondering the 14 hour ride and struck up a conversation with some Swedes I was sitting next to. At this point I was informed that the upcoming festivities where scheduled to last 24 hours. I hadn't been told how long the ride would be, and still don't know where I came up with 14 hours, but the Brits sitting us were able to confirm the 24 hour length.

While pondering an extra 10 hours in this carnival, my luck improved and it turned out the Swedes had a laptop and some movies. They both had headphones, but kindly agreed to turn on the subtitles so I could follow along. About three hours and dead laptop battery later, we made our first pit stop. Crawling out of the bus I noticed that the ring of Laotians sitting on the floor knocked back a bottle of Laos whiskey, this fact was reenforced when soon after boarding the whole bus was serenaded by the gentlman who appeared to have had the most. He went at it for quite some time and then struck up a load conversation with a cohort.

Throughout the whole time, we are swinging through the very hilly and windy Laotian countryside along a road that provided entertainment of its own. About every 30 minutes or so we would hit a bad patch and bump along it for awhile. Occasionally these were bad enough that the bouncing actually lifted everybody clear of their seats a number of times.

At 1:30 am we stopped for a dinner break. As one cannot exchange Laotian Kip outside of Laos, I had none left and so I just watched. After 90 minutes rolled by I wondered when we were going to leave, and was hoping that we wouldn't have to wait for the end of the soccer match on the TV. After 3 hours I was informed by someone, that we were on the border and had to wait for the crossing to open in the morning. I still don't know why we left Vientiene with enough time to sit in the middle of nowhere for 5 hours and wait for the border to open.

Eventually we went to the crossing (I had slept for about 40 minutes so far), which was amusing in its own right. I soon noticed a neat line of westerners with a crush of Laotians in front of it. We began to realize the line wasn't moving and the crush was (oh yeah, this was all dramatically lit by candles because there didn't seem to be any lights) so, the westerners waded into the scrum. Eventually an American boxed out a place near the window and we all passed our passports to him. He then slowly got them back and would call out "I have an Irish passport" and the name. We all waited nervously at the back of the mass of folks for our passports.

I hit the jackpot and got mine back and wandered off several hunder yards to the Vietnamese entry point, surrounded by gorgeous scenery with a stream running along side the road, and a lush rugged hilly landscape extending to the horizon.

The westerners then repeated the performance at the Vietnamese crossing, with the added benefit of being charged for the entry/disembarkation card. I didn't have any Dong so I argued with the guy a bit, then waited while he helped someone else and wandered off without paying. After filling out our cards we had to get them stamped, and once again, a westerner (a Brit this time) was able to get a place by a window and we all passed our passports to him. Soon after we realized it was USD $1 for the stamps. So we repeated task of having passing our passports up to the Brit, and then waiting for our nationality and name to get called out, with the added twist of also passing up a dollar.

We all then went out and waited for our bus. All the bags were taken off the roof rack and given to us for a customs inspection. As we boarded a British woman laughed and said "where did all the Red Bull come from." Boxes of the stuff was everywhere! Every seat had at least two in the space for feet, and the baggage area was also covered, I didn't escape and for the rest of the ride, I had my knees at my ears with my feet on 3 boxes of Red Bull that was about even with the seat itself. We know had all the bags in the bus, and true to form, a box of live chickens was on the top. That's when I realized this had all the ingrediants of a normal bus ride.

The morning passed without incident and eventually a woman complained she was hungry. I had only eaten some cookies and prepackaged crackers with cheese for the whole time. While I was also hungry, I was now gagging when I tried to choke down the crackers, I handed them all out realizing I couldn't possibly choke down one more (no Loatian Kip, no Vietnamese Dong so no purchased meals).

At about this time, 4:30 pm, after driving in Vietnam since about 8:30 am, I realized that I had no idea which side of the street the bus was legally supposed to drive on. The driver, along with every other driver on the road, was all over the place, passing in any lane, cruising in any lane, all the while laying on the horn every 15 seconds or so. Eventually, when we hit a divided highway I realized we were supposed to be on the right side.

At 5:30 pm, after being on the bus for 22 hours we were let off at Hue, Vietnam, well the outskirts of Hue because for some reason we were dropped 17 kilometers out of town. So we all were overcharged by motorbike taxis (who probably paid our bus driver to let us off in the middle of nowhere) for the ride in, however the view from the motorbike was worth it, with the sun setting as a rain storm was moving off. We cruised down the highway, and the sky was bright orange, with rolling hills framing rice paddies. After making it to where I wanted to go in town, which required arguing with the driver because he wanted to take me to a hotel that paid him commission (everybody else from the bus was taken there) I booked a room at the first place I found, showered, brushed my teeth, brushed my teeth again then wandered off for dinner. Halfway through dinner, I realized how tired I actually was and made it to an early bed.

Sorry such a long entry, but then again, it was a long ride.

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