South towards Saigon

Our 32 hour bus trip south brought us the sun and some lovely views:

Our first bus brought us back to Hoi An - we waited in a hotel lobby until a man on a motorbike had a group of us follow him through the streets to a different location. There we were picked up by our sleeper, around 10 minutes later. After being on a bus all afternoon, we we were starving. Even after 2 weeks of it, oh how I longed for some noodles or rice.

We found our sleeping spots, (a much less strenuous event than it had been previously) and got settled in. I woke up when the bus came to a stop something around 5 hours later. I sat up and turned to Kevin. "Uuung? Food here?" After a few minutes of existing in a confused zombie state, we stumbled into the Asian night.
We were at a large rest stop. We ordered a plate of fried rice, worried we wouldn't have time to each finish a meal before the bus rolled away. We scarfed it so quickly, I began to realize how hungry I was  -- and how much longer I'd be on a bus. I ordered myself some noodles. As I waited, I noticed the diminishing number of bus passengers at the tables. I started to get a bit nervous, but I was hungry and I'd payed... so I'd wait.

...Then came the bus honk, just as the young lady ran my noodles (soup, as it turned out) over to me.

The Restaurant Man came over to me and rested his hand on my shoulder, seating me back in my chair.
"It is ok. Eat. Eat. I know bus. He wait. Eat."
I awkwardly began to chop stick the noodles into oblivion and told Kevin to run to the bus and I'd be right behind. After my first large swallow I set it down, said thank you and stood to go. Again, I was pressed down.
"No, no. It's ok. Finish. Eat. Relax. It's ok!"
I sat back down politely and chugged the broth.
That's when I noticed it. Maybe not? Yep. Definitely. That bus is definitely moving. Rolling out of the station, as it were. Wouldn't that be an interesting and authentic adventure? To work at the family owned rest stop cafeteria in Goodness-Knows-Where-Asia? I thought it over only briefly as I pushed past the man, "Thank you!!" and saw how amused he was watching me frantically chase after the bus. He was having himself a good laugh. And who could blame him, I must have looked quite silly. I jumped into the open door and onto the slowly moving bus. Back to "bed" it is.....

 When we arrived at the next stop, (Nha Trang, sometime around 11am?) we were told to get off and hop on the next sleeper bus. We were groggy, sore and confused. Something dawned on my traveling companion. His face dropped: "The guy on that bus took our ticket -- I didn't know we needed it for a third bus." Oh. Hm... that should be fine. They must know what they're doing. They'll usher us where our ticket told them we were headed.

Oh, look! There's the Third Bus Man. He seems a bit unfriendly, but that's neither here nor there! Let's get going.
"Hello! We are going to Saigon, but the man on our last bus took the receipt."
"No! Only two people from that bus go to Saigon! I already have them, here and here! Impossible." "................"
"NO! Get away - I am very busy!"

Panic. The bus is gearing up to go.
"We are supposed to be on this bus..."
"IMPOSSIBLE! No receipt, no bus. Go away!!"
Cue Kevin finding his receipt. Safe.

In the beds at the back sat 4 young Australian birds, and a young British guy and gal. The Bus Man boarded and began to yell at... not us! The Aussies in the back.
"You didn't confirm tickets yesterday! You needed to confirm! Off the bus!"
"....we didn't know. Please -- we have a flight to catch!"
"No! Off the bus NOW."
"...We can't! Is it full?" It wasn't. "You can only stay if you give 100,000 Dong. Each."
"Oh. Ok." They did. (100,000 dong = $5).

As it turned out, the last leg of the journey only included these four gals and the british two-some. They all ended up having a back-of-the-bus-party and becoming great friends.  Kevin and I stayed in the front alone, listening in on their fun until we realized there was no other option. Then we didn't want to listen anymore. I got out the earplugs, but it was impossible to ignore the loud chatter.
I got to hear all about the "super rad Russian couple, they were, like, so old but so like, beautiful, you know? Anyway, on the island they gave us acid coconuts and we all like, tripped balls together! Cheers to that!"
And
"Aw gawd, Aussie boys give us such a bad rep. Everyone we meet is like: 'Ugh, why do Australian boys just get drunk and stupid all the time?' And they are so annoying. Anyway, last night I got so drunk I ..." Etc.

As we rolled down the Saigon streets the accent section of the bus made a date with each other for dinner as I mentally made a date with a shower. We went directly to the first unoccupied budget guest house.

As it turned out, this guest house was occupied by hookers&Johns (spoken to the desk boy: "Now listen up, I won't pay with her if I don't like the looks of her!"), many ants, and an intimidating flighty bat.

 We enjoyed one night of street walking to see all the street walkers, offerings of scandalous products we politely declined, and hotel bat dodging adventures. Then the bus to Phnom Penh, Cambodia.