Sleeper bus - No Hue

Instead of spending another night in our $15 room, we hopped on the 10:30pm sleeper bus to Hue for $22 each.

When we first boarded the sleeper bus, we were floored. We'd had no real clear idea of what a "sleeper bus" was, and we'd assumed something similar to a "normal bus"... with comfy reclining seats?
No.

We boarded the dark sleeper bus, full of passengers lying fast asleep in their sleeper beds. The Bus Man pointed frantically at our feet until we understood to "de-shoe". He then led us past all the sleeper beds... all the full sleeper beds. Finally we arrive at the back row. The only row. The only non-singular bed. Not only was it not singular, but five beds all snug up against one another.


The row was as followed: Sleeping Man Number One, up against the window, directly against him lay Sleeping Man Number Two. After that, there was half of the bed number 3 unoccupied, followed by the other half of bed 3, all of bed 4 and half of bed 5. All of this currently occupied by Large Angry Sleeping Man. Not only was he the largest man we'd seen in Asia, he was the only large man we'd seen in Asia.

He snored extremely loudly and intimidatingly.

The Bus Man informed us: "Two beds left. Sleep here." And promptly left us to deal with our 2 half seat predicaments. The Nearby Friendly (not quite sleeping) Man helped us to shake Large Angry Sleeping Man by the feet in order to ask him to scoot over slightly.

Nothing happened right away. We wiggled his feet again. Suddenly, the disastrous, hilarious and fantastical unfortunate-ness of the whole situation dawned on us, and we began the fitful frantic giggle fit of the insane.

Finally, Large Angry Sleeping Man, Awoke.

"Um... hahahaha.... sorry..... heh.... 2 of us? Here?" (Much gesticulation)

LASM: "Grrrrrr?"

"Uh.... 2 of us.... here...fit?"

LASM: "GRRRRRRRRRRRR!!! NO!"

And he promtly fell back to sleep. We tried to squeeze ourselves on either side of him, though this was quite impossible. I ended up squeezing myself into the smallest creature I could become, smashed between the man and the window. My traveling companion was somewhere on the other side of this massively frightening individual. Now alone in the darkness, the manic giggle fit returned. How miserably absurd my life felt at that moment.

Thankfully, The Nearby Friendly Man saw one passenger hop off the bus at some unknown location, and he assured me I must take the vacant bed. I did, and swiftly drifted off to sleep, alone in the dark, bumpy, dirty bus bed.

I woke up somewhere around dawn, realizing my traveling companion may not have slept much back in the unfortunate situation I'd left him the night before. The guilt set in, but what could I have done? We surely wouldn't all fit, and hopefully once I'd left, Large Angry Man eventually scooted a bit and took up the ample space I'd left him.

As we finally arrived to rainy Hue, I found Kevin's journey had been far more unpleasant than mine.
He did not sleep much on that sleeper. Lots of spooning.

We hopped off the bus to the expected hotel pushers and grumbled our way through the crowd down the street. We planned to head to Laos from Hue, but wanted to travel to Hoi An for a few days first. We yawned and groaned and figured (as we found the rainy gray weather unappealing) we could head straight to Hoi An and check out Hue on our way to Laos. We stopped at a restaurant with an intimidatingly friendly and desperate waitress at the aptly named "Friendly Restaurant". She stared at us as we ate with wide eyes and a poker face, unless we made direct eye contact or spoke to her, to which she'd respond with a wide, manic grin. She told us she'd sell us our bus to Hoi An, and there seemed to be very little we could do about it. We agreed on $5 each (a discount from the original price she offered, though we ended up hearing of people buying tickets as low as $2, ah well).

The bus picked us up from the restaurant within 3 hours of arriving in Hue, and after our 12 hour journey the night before, we were once again on our way.
Although the bus had the loudest and most frequently honked horn of all time, we were at least grateful it was not a sleeper, and no large angry men growled at us.

We said goodbye to Hue, looking forward to acquainting ourselves with it on a later day -- hopefully a less rainy one. Little did we know what was to come.... rain being one of the many misfortunes we'd encounter in Hue upon our return.

Ninh Binh? Almost done me in!

Oh, this place. So beautiful in the pictures, so tempting in the guidebooks. Yet..
It all started with the awkward 2 hour train ride, where we ran to the station as the whistle blew and attempted to board the wrong train car 4 times before the station men showed us the way. On the journey we sat across from two unfriendly young ladies, who wished we would stop existing so much that they attempted to believe we did.
There were also four hoodlums next to us who managed to sneak on sans a ticket, and were yelled at at great length by the conductor -- forcing them to pay and then giving them stools to sit on, as they snickered and guffawed. Train traveling characters are fun and understandable even beyond language barriers.
 Upon arriving at our stop we were screamed at in Vietnamese by the train man to leave and giggled at in Vietnamese giggles by everyone else, so we were already a bit shaken.
After blinking into perspective the dusty town, we were confronted with the following:
1.) An eerily silent street -- the first silence we'd encountered in Southeast Asia. Not a comforting silence.
2.) All of the dusty street kitchens had signs for: "THIT CHO", or: "DOG MEAT". There were many skittish dogs running frantically from street to street, some with battle wounds.

We weren't in Kansas anymore, Yoshi.

The dog pictured was so adorable, I had to disembark my bicylcle and call him over for a friendly hello. When he screamed and shook in fear, I realized it was safest to leave him with the inclination: "people will eat you. Don't trust them."
After wandering in circles near the train station, we didn't find any non looks-like-they'll-serve-you-as-dog-meat-instead-if-you-aren't-careful guesthouses. Finally we found the main highway that cuts through the town on the way to Hanoi. We found the familiar honking once more.  Sweet, sweet honking. At least it stopped being so unnaturally quiet.
We crossed over the highway and found the more bustling aspect of the city -- piles of litter and store upon store of folks that would stare you down to size as you walked by. Finally we found creepy upscale Thuy An Hotel. We rented bicycles and defied death down the highway to the village limestone cliffs and caves: "Tam Coc". There was an eerie blanket of thick Stephen King Fog settled over the entire village. Really. Really.

We biked to many icy stares from the few villagers in their front yards or on passing bicycles. Although, before we got to the center of the village, it was mostly silent and deserted.

We biked past the market, where goats and dogs were brought on the backs of motorbikes for slaughter. Eventually we made it to the end of the road, where there was a (once again eerie) temple on top of a mountain.

At the top of the mountain were amazing views, and a toothless man who gave me incense to present to Buddha and then hit me and made the universal sign for "money" (the rubbing of the thumb with the fingers, you know the one). I shook in my boots and gave him a dollar, to which he laughed maniacally whilst sniffing it and rubbing it on his face just to give me the willies.




Our second day, we rented our trusty bicycles, first asking: "Any chance you have any helmets we could rent along with these?" The man laughed at our silly fear.
We survived the road insanity once again and made our way to the infamous Tam Coc boat trip through the rice paddies. We payed admission, as well as a bike parking fee.


At the loading station, there was a chained monkey who disliked it there far more than we did. The neighborhood kids threw things at him which he hissed at in his misery, to the laughter of the adults.




The boat trip itself was a bit uncomfortable. Our rowing man insulted us in Vietnamese to the many other rowers (we knew from the pointing and laughter aimed in our direction.) Also, halfway through the journey (as happens to everyone who buys a boat) a woman hopped into our boat and made sneaky jokes with our rowing man. We were rowed to a boat full of snacks and beer and told, "you MUST buy your rowing man beer, for tip. Is Vietnamese culture. Must." So we sheepishly did. Then, our new female companion began to violently tap us both (as we attempted to take in the magnificent views) to show us her hand made items we "must buy." Since we "have much money!" After politely declining and being hit dozens more times to be shown the same options with no end in sight, we attempted to ignore their insults and pointy fingers. Before it could be over and we would be taken back to shore, we were told "You must give us tip! Two! One for each!" To which we reminded, "We bought the beer!" "No! More tip!" Eventually, they freed us. We apologized to the monkey for his hideous fate and bid him adieu.
We had hoped to bike back before sundown with our unprotected heads on the treacherous roads... but we were fated to journey through the village as the sky grew dark and life more ominous than ever before. When we finally reached the city area and the headlights lit our way a bit, we realized headlights don't help you see when they're coming straight for you from every direction. We turned down a back road, and I was quickly chased after and yelled at for riding my bike through fresh, wet concrete. I think the man attempted to throw me off my bike as punishment, but I remembered I had a worrying Mama back at home to think of and so peddled as if there were no tomorrow (which it seemed there may not be).

That night, we got the hell out of dodge and hopped on our first "sleeper bus" south. Our first of many...

Thoughts of Hanoi.

After spending a few hours attempting sleep at the frigid and fancy BKK airport, we were on our 6:50am Asia Airways flight to Hanoi.

We were terrified to fly Asia Airways. It's a "budget" airline, and in our online research we found many unpleasant reports. There are rants upon rants of cancellations, unsafe conditions, unpleasant journeys, luggage hassle and... (most importantly..?) unattractive flight attendants. Who wants that.

However! I am now a huge advocate for Asia Airways. I'm sure there are issues from time to time (as there are with all airlines, post offices, etc) yet my short experience? The best. Flight. Ever. 1.) Those seats! So comfy! 2.) Safe, smooth short journey. 3.) Calming music to soothe the take-off jitters 4.) The loveliest flight attendant ladies in the cutest flight attendant outfits. So. Rants wrong on all fronts.

Stepping off the plane in Hanoi, we realized an important detail immediately. North Vietnam is COLD in January. Our sandals and fleeces were hardly sufficient. It was gray, windy, and about 50 or so degrees (F) colder than Bangkok. Ugh. 

After being hassled by the famously persistent taxi drivers and begged to pay them $35, then $25, then $20, then $15, we settled on a crammed minibus for $2 each.

Once dropped in the middle of the bustling insanity that is Hanoi, all your senses are confronted with chaos immediately (especially when you haven't slept, showered, eaten or had coffee). They drop you (as is often the case in Southeast Asia) in front of the hotel they work for/have a deal with. The hotel staff runs at you and frantically begs you to come inside. As tempting as it would be to immediately escape into a warm shower and soft bed, and even when they offer you the lowest price you've payed yet for a hotel, it just does not promote comfort when they wave their arms in your face and scream "best price!! 10 dolla! Best price!! Just look!! See now!! I no lie! No tricks! Best ever!!" in your ear. You simply want to run far, far away. So we did.

After a few minutes of walking, we quickly learned there isn't quite a place for pedestrians in this city. The sidewalks are completely taken up with parked motorbikes, which everyone (and their babies) rides. On the streets they're whizzing by hundreds at a time in all directions, miraculously not causing constant death and dismemberment. (Although, upon googling this phenomenon I discovered there are 12,000 - 24,000 motorbike related casualties a year in Hanoi.)

Therefore, as the sidewalks are fully taken by stopped motorbikes, all pedestrians are left to share the road with all the bikes that are still going. Going fast.

And the honking. Oh, the honking. I tell ya. Well. Here seems to be the rule of the road: Go where you want, when you want, however quickly you want... simply honk when you do it. "Here I am! I'm comin' atcha!" So. Everyone. Honks. All the time. It's a bit overwhelming. Especially, as afore mentioned, with a pounding lack-of-coffee headache.

 

So, I led the way to the first coffee provider, which is one of the best decisions I've ever made in my life.

 Film evidence of walking the intense streets:

Despite walking amongst mind boggling chaos, Hanoi had a fascinating hypnotism. It was the most culturally rich and different place we'd been. There is an unbelievable number of peddlers constantly attempting to sell you something, often genuinely annoyed with you if you politely decline, "Why no??" The people here were less outwardly welcoming and friendly than in Bangkok or Ko Chang, but they didn't smile and pretend we were friends either. There was an honesty in the air. It felt as if they would say, "Alright, foreigner. So you're here. You've got some money. You can give it to me. No? No you say? Then get."

Balcony at Stars Hotel

When we finally found a hotel we payed much more than we were offered by the frantic men on the street, and yet we were satisfied. Finding things on your own and making your own decision (so soon after falling for a scam) just feels better, even if you lose money on the deal. 

Stars Hotel was a nice refuge from the streets, and we enjoyed our time there -- ALTHOUGH! We payed a little more for a larger room with "breakfast included". Oy. The breakfast menu was a sheet of paper listing omelet & toast, made by a nervous boy and served to us at the one table in the staff kitchen. Uncomfortable & untasty. Woops.

We had a balcony with a great view. Simply watching life go by in Hanoi is quite a sight to a Westerner such as myself.

Our second day we took a taxi to the Ho Chi Minh mausoleum. This experience was one of the most memorable of the trip. They confiscate all cameras, and the terrifyingly serious and silent party members lift their arms to point the way. You walk on the red carpet towards the room in complete silence, moving along swiftly. Kevin was silently yelled at (with wild gesturing) by a guard, informing him that he must remove his hands from his pockets. When we get to the room where Uncle Ho lays in his snow white style glass chamber, he is attended by four stony faced party members. (What a job..)

We had to keep up the pace and get out as quickly as we came in. Immediately upon exiting, there is stall upon stall of souvenirs. Talking dolls, hats, toys, coke-a-cola, you name it. What a transition! I wonder what Ho would think.

 

 From the mausoleum, we went to the HCM museum.

POWs, the gate the tank drove through etc.

After the museum, we walked to where the American POWs were held. "Hanoi Hilton". Fascinating.

The prison itself mostly speaks of the French colonialists who built it and their aggression towards the Vietnamese. I was starting to suggest they got rid of the American war section, until we came to the last two small rooms, where this sign was posted at the entrance:

In the rooms, there were pictures and videos of the comforts of Hoa Lo, with many stories of how enjoyable the Americans found it. It spoke of them gardening, cooking christmas dinner, playing basketball and enjoying coffee and cigarettes daily.

No one would like to 

admit how awful that time was. On either side.

The uniform McCain was captured in

It was one of the most interesting places we visited.

After that, we went to the "Temple of Literature", which we didn't find all that exciting.

Two days in the hustle bustle and cold, gray weather seemed to be enough. I was moved and drawn to the city, but also relieved to head south and hopefully find some sunshine and peaceful streets.

No such luck. Next up... Ninh Binh. Stay tuned.

Let's get to it. Rewind to Ko Chang.

So. Where were we? After our elaborate scam booking to Chang Mai, we canceled the whole idea and decided to head where life seemed simpler. We hopped on a 5 hour bus journey to Ko Chang.

Thai roadside rest stop meals win

ferry journey.

First view of Ko Chang

Upon arriving at the ferry, we were told to book our accommodations in advance & went with the cheapest available option (300 baht/$10). It must have been the only room of its kind around -- the grounds were beautiful at Sai Khao Inn and I believe all the other cabins were legitimate (and more than 300 baht.)
Ours was not worth much more:





 Our budget room happened to be at "White Sand Beach", the more expensive resort area of the island:

Dinnertime beach fire show.

(39?)The guy on the right dropped his fire often, which seemed dangerous

 

























After one night & delicious free breakfast we relocated to the cheaper and more isolated "Bailan Bay" area.

This journey further south on the island cost us an additional 100baht and another terrifying taxi ride (them hills are steep and curvy! Plus you sit in the back of a pick up truck on a bench holding on to a bar for dear life).

After being dropped in the "Bailan Bay" area with no reservations, we wandered in the heat until we found the lady-boys that run Bailan Hut. Lady-boys are quite common in Thailand,  I've heard they have the largest number of transsexuals in the world -- they certainly have the most convincing/attractive ones. While at our White Sand beach cabin, we watched a special on Thai lady-boys and how impressively beautiful they always seem to be.
We loved the staff at Bailan Hut. My favorite gal had the best response to everything, no matter what was said: "Can we stay one more night?" "Shu-ah. No Probrem." "You have such an adorable puppy! I miss mine back at home." "Shu-ah. No Probrem."

Quite the restaurant view at Bailan Hut.

One of the 9 or so cats at Bailan Hut

Hut with free computer & geckos

The head gal's pup. Awesome.

The snorkeling boat trip on Ko Chang was well worth it. They picked us up at Bailan Hut and drove us to the giant boat. The crew was amusing: "We have pills if you need to vomit, you know, vomit?" and "Errybody! If you sink and drown, I dive down to save you like Supa-man! I am Supa-man."
The boat stopped at 4 islands, the first two of which were great and the second two essentially resorts for swimming less than coral and fish life. They fed us delicious curry, noodles and fruit, plus I ate my first shrimp. There is video proof of my squeamish removal of the head, etc. I didn't like it, as it turns out.

After the journey ended, I discovered a strange new leg marking which google advised could be "fire corral":

 

 Thankfully, it didn't amount to anything life altering. Although becoming a half-ocean-creature-half-superhuman-hero wouldn't have been too bad.

Overall, Ko Chang was quite relaxing. Pretty built up and a bit litter-y, but beautiful. We found a strange art yard:

 

There were cute dogs around, which I enjoyed:

The best mutt ever (at the rest stop on the road to Bangkok):






Ko Chang was a lovely 2 and a half days of our journey.
Some of the most exciting moments of the trip -- including a glimpse of an island full of wild monkeys.