A small post to remind we are alive and still riding trains. Today here in Chiang Mai we exchanged "The end of poverty", "Life of Pi" (I hadn't read yet) and "Lonely Planet Mekong River, Cambodia, Laos" against the Paul Theroux's "Riding the iron rooster" (his train adventures in China) and 110bath. Chiang Mai is the Northern capital of Thailand and is more than full of western people. Just second hand bookshops there are maybe ten!
We found Thailand and Bangkok and huge relief (=calm) compared to Cambodia, Vietnam and China. It is a very easy country to travel and while guide books warn about scams and annoying taxis, motos drivers, we may say that here is very quiet.
After a short night in Bangkok we took train for 12hours to here, and the last 3 days we went to a lovely small remote village in a National Park where a french couple developed the tourism with the locals (from a mountain tribe called Karen). So the couple financed a house built by the locals and now the locals receive tourists (up to 8 at a time), show them the village and traditions (we got to see a wedding), cook, do hikes and/or go by bicycle somewhere around. Around the house just rice paddies, no noise of cars, nothing. A real gem. Thanks Anne-Laure for offering us this stay. :-)
Today we rest and tomorrow we will start going back down, direction of Bangkok.
More stories will come soon.
30 November 2009
26 November 2009
22 November 2009
Memories from the Cambodian war
Between 1975 and 1979, Cambodia was ruled by the Khmer Rouge who wanted to create the "perfect" communist state. In doing this, they killed probably a million people, intellectuals, land-owners, everybody connected to them, and everybody who didn't want to play their game.
In Phnom Penh, there are two places that one must visit to understand this part of their history.
One is the Tuol Sleng prison, also called S-21, that the Khmer Rouge installed in a former school in Phnom Penh. They transformed some classrooms into tiny cells, others into "interrogation rooms", the schoolyard was used for torturing the prisoners. It was in fact an extermination prison, and almost all prisoners died there, except 14 people who were still alive when the Vietnamese liberated Phnom Penh. The prison is now a museum, but has been left largely the way it was found back in 1979 (I wish they would renovate the ceiling though, it seems like it's going to collapse any time soon...). This really makes a very strong impression. Inside, there are different exhibitions of photographs. One exhibition shows photos and personal comments of a Swedish person who was part of a delegation that visited the country under the Khmer Rouge. He describes how at the time he didn't know and didn't want to believe in the atrocities that were happening in the country, because he (and many other Europeans) believed that the Cambodians were about to form the ideal communist state, where everybody was equal and that was not dependent on other countries to survive. Later on he had to admit that he had been terribly wrong, and that's why he shows his photos now, along with his comments, so that this would not happen again.
A few days later, we took a Tuk-Tuk to Cheung Ek, the "killing fields", about 14 km from Phnom Penh. A quiet spot in the countryside with lots of trees. One can hardly imagine that this was the very spot where tens of thousands of Cambodians were killed in the most horrible way. They were taken here in trucks, most of them from the Tuol Sleng prison, and just beaten to death (bullets were too expensive). Since the 1980's, several mass graves have been unearthed, and a big stupa has been erected that contains the skulls found in the graves. One particular atrocity was committed at the "killing tree": children were held by their legs and swung against the tree to kill them.
There was also a small museum, talking about the people who were responsible for the killings, and how their judgements are getting on (they are being tried by a joint Cambodian-UN tribunal, which has been very very slow to get on, and the accused are slowly dying from old age without having been judged, like Pol Pot for example).
After Vietnam's uncritical propaganda, it was good to see that Cambodia has made the effort to show everything that happened in the past, with a strong will that this will never happen again. Recently they also published a book for all the schools about what happened under the Khmer Rouge.
In Phnom Penh, there are two places that one must visit to understand this part of their history.
One is the Tuol Sleng prison, also called S-21, that the Khmer Rouge installed in a former school in Phnom Penh. They transformed some classrooms into tiny cells, others into "interrogation rooms", the schoolyard was used for torturing the prisoners. It was in fact an extermination prison, and almost all prisoners died there, except 14 people who were still alive when the Vietnamese liberated Phnom Penh. The prison is now a museum, but has been left largely the way it was found back in 1979 (I wish they would renovate the ceiling though, it seems like it's going to collapse any time soon...). This really makes a very strong impression. Inside, there are different exhibitions of photographs. One exhibition shows photos and personal comments of a Swedish person who was part of a delegation that visited the country under the Khmer Rouge. He describes how at the time he didn't know and didn't want to believe in the atrocities that were happening in the country, because he (and many other Europeans) believed that the Cambodians were about to form the ideal communist state, where everybody was equal and that was not dependent on other countries to survive. Later on he had to admit that he had been terribly wrong, and that's why he shows his photos now, along with his comments, so that this would not happen again.
A few days later, we took a Tuk-Tuk to Cheung Ek, the "killing fields", about 14 km from Phnom Penh. A quiet spot in the countryside with lots of trees. One can hardly imagine that this was the very spot where tens of thousands of Cambodians were killed in the most horrible way. They were taken here in trucks, most of them from the Tuol Sleng prison, and just beaten to death (bullets were too expensive). Since the 1980's, several mass graves have been unearthed, and a big stupa has been erected that contains the skulls found in the graves. One particular atrocity was committed at the "killing tree": children were held by their legs and swung against the tree to kill them.
There was also a small museum, talking about the people who were responsible for the killings, and how their judgements are getting on (they are being tried by a joint Cambodian-UN tribunal, which has been very very slow to get on, and the accused are slowly dying from old age without having been judged, like Pol Pot for example).
After Vietnam's uncritical propaganda, it was good to see that Cambodia has made the effort to show everything that happened in the past, with a strong will that this will never happen again. Recently they also published a book for all the schools about what happened under the Khmer Rouge.
18 November 2009
Tipping, beggars, over-pricing: questions
Tips, double-pricing, beggars, children-beggars, children-sellers. Yes, no, yes or no? Poverty, South-East Asia (SEA), Vietnam, Cambodia. Questions to which I don't know the answer. Several moments a day which I don't know which is the right action to do.
Children-beggars if given money it will just increase the number of beggars and remove them from school or school-related-work. Beggars in general, if you provide them money, it will mostly not go to them but the the leader of organized-beggars groups who sends them to the street to ask for money. These leaders are known to exist.
But what to do when you are in the terrace of the restaurant, eating and someone comes to ask for money. Or points to one of your toasts and asks for it? Giving the toast will help the children/person future? Will it change something? Is it not better to support an organization who will help them in more long-run and try to remove from them the feeling that they can make a living of asking food or money from the tourists? Where I'm talking about (Phnom Pehn, Cambodia) there are such organizations where beggars can ask for a meal. Nonetheless it is a very disturbing moment when you have a children in front of you (even if usually in distance you see a "parent" bit more well dressed who have sent the children alone to beg).
Over-pricing just annoys me. In SEA is a constant problem in buses sometimes also in others means of transport. Your guidebook usually says which is the normal price. Just in case you ask a local which is the price. You see the locals paying X. You are then asked 3 times X. You contest, you might manage to pay 1.5 times X. And then you go in a cramped and hot bus for which the really fair price is X. What to do when you know being over-priced? Accept? Contest? I know I'm the rich in a very poor country, but I try to think: would I do the same in my country to a person which I know earns 10-times more money than me? No! Indeed I accept to pay for the quality and when there is the possibility to pay a reasonable/fair price for a quality bus, I'll pay and choose it instead (for instance, when there are 2, 3 and 5 usd buses, I rather take the 5usd knowing it will have AC and will not gather passengers around for the next 30minutes while leaving the city). But I do not accept to pay more than the locals when the quality is bad, which is often the case.
Tipping, either in the "taxi"-like or at the restaurant... I tend not to tip, except when the service (and/or food) is better than my expectations for the current local prices. Most of times in SEA people do not expect tip and are very thankful you have used their services (so far was like this in Phnom Penh). But sometimes, I don't know if because of the American culture of tipping, they get annoyed when you don't leave anything. This happen sometimes in Vietnam. Two times during this trip I was even directly asked for tip, which is the thing I find the worst. Tip is a gratuity which you give if you feel it, not something to be asked for.
I know that their salary is very small and a tip could help them, but I've the opinion that it should not be expected and the clients should be respected either if they tip or not. My own way to tip is to go back to the restaurant or use the same service again, giving it this way more profit in general.
At this article the matter of tipping or not in 3rd world countries is discussed already for 2 years. There is no big conclusion.
More ideas or comments?
Children-beggars if given money it will just increase the number of beggars and remove them from school or school-related-work. Beggars in general, if you provide them money, it will mostly not go to them but the the leader of organized-beggars groups who sends them to the street to ask for money. These leaders are known to exist.
But what to do when you are in the terrace of the restaurant, eating and someone comes to ask for money. Or points to one of your toasts and asks for it? Giving the toast will help the children/person future? Will it change something? Is it not better to support an organization who will help them in more long-run and try to remove from them the feeling that they can make a living of asking food or money from the tourists? Where I'm talking about (Phnom Pehn, Cambodia) there are such organizations where beggars can ask for a meal. Nonetheless it is a very disturbing moment when you have a children in front of you (even if usually in distance you see a "parent" bit more well dressed who have sent the children alone to beg).
Over-pricing just annoys me. In SEA is a constant problem in buses sometimes also in others means of transport. Your guidebook usually says which is the normal price. Just in case you ask a local which is the price. You see the locals paying X. You are then asked 3 times X. You contest, you might manage to pay 1.5 times X. And then you go in a cramped and hot bus for which the really fair price is X. What to do when you know being over-priced? Accept? Contest? I know I'm the rich in a very poor country, but I try to think: would I do the same in my country to a person which I know earns 10-times more money than me? No! Indeed I accept to pay for the quality and when there is the possibility to pay a reasonable/fair price for a quality bus, I'll pay and choose it instead (for instance, when there are 2, 3 and 5 usd buses, I rather take the 5usd knowing it will have AC and will not gather passengers around for the next 30minutes while leaving the city). But I do not accept to pay more than the locals when the quality is bad, which is often the case.
Tipping, either in the "taxi"-like or at the restaurant... I tend not to tip, except when the service (and/or food) is better than my expectations for the current local prices. Most of times in SEA people do not expect tip and are very thankful you have used their services (so far was like this in Phnom Penh). But sometimes, I don't know if because of the American culture of tipping, they get annoyed when you don't leave anything. This happen sometimes in Vietnam. Two times during this trip I was even directly asked for tip, which is the thing I find the worst. Tip is a gratuity which you give if you feel it, not something to be asked for.
I know that their salary is very small and a tip could help them, but I've the opinion that it should not be expected and the clients should be respected either if they tip or not. My own way to tip is to go back to the restaurant or use the same service again, giving it this way more profit in general.
At this article the matter of tipping or not in 3rd world countries is discussed already for 2 years. There is no big conclusion.
More ideas or comments?
16 November 2009
Current stop: Cambodia
Temperature: 31degrees. Sunny. On our arrival to the port (we came by boat from ChauDoc in Vietnam) several people showing posters announcing themselves as the nicest tuk-tuk drivers or having the best places to sleep. We had the plan ready, based on our guidebook. One dollar or we walk to take us to the hotel we have chosen, about 800m from there. "Bad tourists" called the first one when sawing we were not open to negotiation. The second one took us, his name Pho. We took his phone number for having him as a driver the next day.
Tuk-tuk are motorbikes with a remork attached, that can take a few people in the back. They cost the tourist about the double as for a simple motorbike. There are very few taxis in Cambodia and some cyclos (bicycles with seat in front for 1/2 passengers).
Cambodia is pricier than Vietnam. There are more big wealthy jeeps but also more desperate women and children begging for money. For same price as in Vietnam, our hotel room was fairy simple, in a 5th floor without elevator, towels smelling of being always hand-washed in a bathtub. There was no upper bed-sheet, just a light silk sheet that could be more for decoration. "Please close your door and windows during the night" said behind the door, besides the already prison like barred window.
Next step: look for money. Few ATM accept foreign cards, but the ones that accept are indicated almost like a big gas station, with 10m tall sign with the symbol of each brand of card. Money that comes out: US dollars. Official Cambodia currency: riel (for which there are no coins). In fact, all the cities run in USD, down to the unit, and then use riel as subdivision of dollar. Exchange rate is 4135 riel = 1 usd. For the friends (mean, current use) 4000 riel=1usd, which makes 1000riel=0.25usd, just perfect.
We were in desperate need of laundry. Everywhere it was by piece, but we need by kilo. Google as a friend together with other tourists, we find a bike shop which runs a launderette walking distance from the hotel. Laundry done during dinner.
The next morning was for touring the city. Pho as agreed met us at 8am. When we said our plan, he start excuses as Thai embassy being too far away, then that he could not drive on the two main Phnom Penh avenues. We agreed that he could take us nearby and we would then walk there. After 300m he turns to opposite direction, after while we ask where he is going. He stops near other tuk-tuk drivers and asks another one to take us. This one just did what we wanted. Drove us around the city and waited for us while we were doing our business (Thai embassy, market and museum). At the end we re-ask why Pho could not take us to the Thai embassy area. "He had to do some job mid-morning" was the new excuse. Impossible to know the real reason.
Thai visa will be ready only Thursday. Meanwhile we can take it easy visiting the city, which was deserted 34 years ago, when Cambodia Khmer Rouge suppressed money, religion and private property in a communist rural utopia. It is quite impressive city still with strong signs of the war and repression that happened 30years ago.
Tuk-tuk are motorbikes with a remork attached, that can take a few people in the back. They cost the tourist about the double as for a simple motorbike. There are very few taxis in Cambodia and some cyclos (bicycles with seat in front for 1/2 passengers).
Cambodia is pricier than Vietnam. There are more big wealthy jeeps but also more desperate women and children begging for money. For same price as in Vietnam, our hotel room was fairy simple, in a 5th floor without elevator, towels smelling of being always hand-washed in a bathtub. There was no upper bed-sheet, just a light silk sheet that could be more for decoration. "Please close your door and windows during the night" said behind the door, besides the already prison like barred window.
Next step: look for money. Few ATM accept foreign cards, but the ones that accept are indicated almost like a big gas station, with 10m tall sign with the symbol of each brand of card. Money that comes out: US dollars. Official Cambodia currency: riel (for which there are no coins). In fact, all the cities run in USD, down to the unit, and then use riel as subdivision of dollar. Exchange rate is 4135 riel = 1 usd. For the friends (mean, current use) 4000 riel=1usd, which makes 1000riel=0.25usd, just perfect.
We were in desperate need of laundry. Everywhere it was by piece, but we need by kilo. Google as a friend together with other tourists, we find a bike shop which runs a launderette walking distance from the hotel. Laundry done during dinner.
The next morning was for touring the city. Pho as agreed met us at 8am. When we said our plan, he start excuses as Thai embassy being too far away, then that he could not drive on the two main Phnom Penh avenues. We agreed that he could take us nearby and we would then walk there. After 300m he turns to opposite direction, after while we ask where he is going. He stops near other tuk-tuk drivers and asks another one to take us. This one just did what we wanted. Drove us around the city and waited for us while we were doing our business (Thai embassy, market and museum). At the end we re-ask why Pho could not take us to the Thai embassy area. "He had to do some job mid-morning" was the new excuse. Impossible to know the real reason.
Thai visa will be ready only Thursday. Meanwhile we can take it easy visiting the city, which was deserted 34 years ago, when Cambodia Khmer Rouge suppressed money, religion and private property in a communist rural utopia. It is quite impressive city still with strong signs of the war and repression that happened 30years ago.
13 November 2009
Motorbikes, last photos
We left Vietnam already 15 days ago, we spent a bit more than a week in Cambodia to visit Phnom Penh and Siem Reap (and Ankhor Temples). Bit Vietnam pictures were the last ones I've "developed".
The record of people we saw in a 2-wheel motorbike was 5, two adults and three children. On a 2-wheel bicycle it was 4, an adult and three children! No pictures though of those. :-(
Moving office.
Family going out to the river.
Going to the pediatrician with the babies.
Gas station.
Taking kids from school.
Arrival at Phnom Penh port.
The record of people we saw in a 2-wheel motorbike was 5, two adults and three children. On a 2-wheel bicycle it was 4, an adult and three children! No pictures though of those. :-(
Moving office.
Family going out to the river.
Going to the pediatrician with the babies.
Gas station.
Taking kids from school.
Arrival at Phnom Penh port.12 November 2009
Motorbikes and bicycles
Few bags in the traffic in front of his friend with the metal bars.
The family outing.
Banana seller.
Couple using the same pair of pedals.
Tow a moto with a tricycle (the motorbike driver is also on the bicycle!).
Sleeping in the motorbike.
A regular transport or merchandise.11 November 2009
Motorbikes and bicycles
We saw first with a single passenger, the next had two. Look, there are two plus a child. Another one was carrying a vase. Now there are also single saddle bicycles with two people riding. Second day in Vietnam: record, two adults and two children in a single motorbike. But then there was a guy alone with 5 pigs in cages on his back. Yesterday there was one with a whole double-door fridge balancing on the motorbike. Photo, photo. Hey, 3 children cycling the same single saddle bycicle... They find the place for it. During a glass of beer I thought being drunk - four adults in a scooter! But more, these days we see them carrying a broken motorbike in a trycicle; or just their office - table plus chairs plus two persons in a 100cc machine. They are crazy - doors, the driver and two wheels of the motorbike. Ofter they carry also long tubes, just 2 meters, plus a meter of motorbike plus 2 meters. Doesn't mater if the tubes are plastic or metal, it is 5 meters long device carried in the middle of the city. Impressive image last evening - rush hours, hundreds of motorbikes - we are in Ho Chi Minh City - and a student cycling her bike without using the hands in the middle of the traffic. Talking on the phone or texting while riding the motorbike and skipping a red light is peanuts of local people. Frontal chocks, lateral touches motorbike-motorbike or motorbike-car happen, only once we saw a person lying on the floor...
Hey, that one is 3 meters wide and 4 long, but just two wheels. Eva, Eva, a leopard riding. No, this one probably will be only tomorrow.
Soon I'll post some pictures of this text. It is not easy to catch the images, but if you like photography, indeed Vietnam is a country you should not miss.
Hey, that one is 3 meters wide and 4 long, but just two wheels. Eva, Eva, a leopard riding. No, this one probably will be only tomorrow.
Soon I'll post some pictures of this text. It is not easy to catch the images, but if you like photography, indeed Vietnam is a country you should not miss.
Cu Chi Tunnels
From Saigon we took a half day trip to the Cu Chi Tunnels that played an important role during the Vietnam war. The Vietcong from North Vietnam built an extensive tunnel system in the south so they could fight against the Americans, hide during the day and get protection from the bombs. Parts of the tunnels have been made accessible for tourists, the Vietnamese way.
At the beginning of the tour, there was a video about the Vietcong and how they fought against the Americans. It was just plain communist propaganda. They talked about some Vietcong "heroes" who received the distinction of "American-killer" because they had killed a certain number of Americans. They glorified the simple village people and peasants, how they fought the Americans who destroyed their innocent villages.
(Now of course, I won't deny that America shouldn't have gone there in the first place, and that they committed many atrocities, but a tiny bit of self-criticism would be welcome, as the Vietcong were not angels either.)
Then we followed a path through the jungle, and our guide showed us how the entrances to the tunnels were concealed. They were really small holes, and the smallest tunnels measured just 70x80 cm, so try to imagine crawling inside it.... Then we were shown the "booby traps", traps in the ground, concealed under leaves. American soldiers would step on them and fall into a hole, that was filled with sharp bamboo spikes pointing upwards.... I don't want to imagine. Our guide was also very proud to show us all the different kinds of traps the Vietcong built with very simple materials, to kill or injure American soldiers. How can one be so proud of such horrible things?
Further on we saw kitchens, common rooms and storage rooms used within the tunnel system. All decorated with life-size puppets to illustrate it better. There was also an old American tank (those who wanted could climb up and have their picture taken). Further on there was a shooting range where one could shoot with American rifles... I found this very bad taste. Right next to the shooting range was a souvenir kiosk, selling cheap copies of weapons and landmines... now this was really bad taste.
All in all it was quite an interesting outing, not so much for seeing the tunnels (I could also have watched a movie about it or read a book) but more for the whole thing, with all the pro-communist and anti-american propaganda that just seems so much out of place. Travelling around Vietnam, I didn't come across many things that I would describe as "communist". The gap between poor and rich is clearly visible, schooling and medical care are not free, and only children whose parents own a piece of land can attend secondary school. But here they are, glorifying this horrible past, never admitting the atrocities the Vietcong committed against their own people.
At the beginning of the tour, there was a video about the Vietcong and how they fought against the Americans. It was just plain communist propaganda. They talked about some Vietcong "heroes" who received the distinction of "American-killer" because they had killed a certain number of Americans. They glorified the simple village people and peasants, how they fought the Americans who destroyed their innocent villages.
(Now of course, I won't deny that America shouldn't have gone there in the first place, and that they committed many atrocities, but a tiny bit of self-criticism would be welcome, as the Vietcong were not angels either.)
Then we followed a path through the jungle, and our guide showed us how the entrances to the tunnels were concealed. They were really small holes, and the smallest tunnels measured just 70x80 cm, so try to imagine crawling inside it.... Then we were shown the "booby traps", traps in the ground, concealed under leaves. American soldiers would step on them and fall into a hole, that was filled with sharp bamboo spikes pointing upwards.... I don't want to imagine. Our guide was also very proud to show us all the different kinds of traps the Vietcong built with very simple materials, to kill or injure American soldiers. How can one be so proud of such horrible things?
Further on we saw kitchens, common rooms and storage rooms used within the tunnel system. All decorated with life-size puppets to illustrate it better. There was also an old American tank (those who wanted could climb up and have their picture taken). Further on there was a shooting range where one could shoot with American rifles... I found this very bad taste. Right next to the shooting range was a souvenir kiosk, selling cheap copies of weapons and landmines... now this was really bad taste.
All in all it was quite an interesting outing, not so much for seeing the tunnels (I could also have watched a movie about it or read a book) but more for the whole thing, with all the pro-communist and anti-american propaganda that just seems so much out of place. Travelling around Vietnam, I didn't come across many things that I would describe as "communist". The gap between poor and rich is clearly visible, schooling and medical care are not free, and only children whose parents own a piece of land can attend secondary school. But here they are, glorifying this horrible past, never admitting the atrocities the Vietcong committed against their own people.
06 November 2009
The 8-hour trainride that took 26 hours
We continue on the Reunification Express, this time from Danang to Nha Trang, a trip of 524 km. Of course we knew about hurricane Mirinae, we had seen the flooded streets in Hoi An and people continuing with their everyday life.
We arrived at Danang train station at 10 am, having in mind to take the train at just before 11 am, but it was cancelled. There had been a landslide further down the line, but we got a ticket for the next train at 13:13 that should take 8 and a half hours to Nha Trang. We were told that we would have to change for a bus in Dieu Tri because the line was damaged, but that we would arrive in Nha Trang all right, with a delay. Ok, we thought, and bought the ticket.
The train left half an hour late but then went about the usual (slow) speed until it stopped at 5 pm in a small train station, 137 km from our departure. Soon many passengers got off to smoke, and very quickly some local women set up a couple of tables and small stools and started serving food and drinks. At 5.30 it was dark, so they lit small lamps. It looked very cosy but it didn't give me the impression that the train would start again soon.... I continued reading my book and opened a pack of Oreos. Miguel came back with the news that we were waiting for a train from the other direction (the Vietnamese train line is a single line with few crossing possibilities), but nobody knew when that train was going to be here and when we were going to start again.
Hmmmm... lack of communication. We've seen this before, no? In communist or post-communist countries...
At around 6 pm that train arrived, stopped for a few minutes and left again. Supposedly it should have arrived at this station at 3 am - which meant it was 15 hours late. Very encouraging.
After this, our train didn't leave. We were apparently waiting for another train to cross, but again nobody knew where that train was right now and when it would be here. Around 8 pm everybody was told to get on the train, but nothing more happened.
During all this time, I continued to read my book, trying to close my ears to the neverending noise coming from the loudspeakers of TrainTV. The programme was stopped several times and then re-started from the beginning, so we saw the same Hollywood movie twice (something about rattlesnakes) and a selection of Vietnamese pop that made me want to jump out of the window. In between, some sexistic advertisements for soft drinks.
Just when I was about to go and bribe the conductor to turn off this noise pollution, it went off. Heavenly peace.
As all the passengers had got back on the train, the ladies outside packed together their tables, chairs and food, and the platform went completely dark.
Around 9 pm the passengers in our carriage switched off the lights and everybody went to sleep. I was amazed by the ease with which the Vietnamese can sleep in all possible positions, lying down on 2 seats with their feet up against the window, or on the floor on a sheet of newspaper.
The funny thing is that during all that time, the train now being over 4 hours stopped, there was never an announcement or anybody trying to find out what was happening. It was as if it was the most normal thing, everybody settling for the night.
One of the conductors had offered us a bed in the sleeper carriage for a little "contribution" of 100000 Dong, which we declined, knowing that at some point we would have to get off and change to a bus anyway.
At 11.30 pm I woke up because suddenly there was complete silence. Bugger, they had turned off the air conditioning. Breaking into a sweat at once, I went to the front end of the wagon to find a window I could open, and settled there across 2 seats, under the open window, getting wet in the heavy rain that had just started, and tried out the different "Vietnamese" sleeping position, none of which worked for more than 15 minutes. Maybe we should have accepted the conductors offer for the sleeping car?
At about 1 am, the long-waited-for train arrived, stopped for a couple of minutes, and went on. My hopes didn't come true though, we stayed where we were.
I wouldn't have been surprised if the train crew had just decided to go to sleep, or had had too much rice wine.
Shortly after 4 am, as if there had been a signal, people started getting up, went to brush their teeth and wash, and switched the lights on. It was still dark outside, but the Vietnamese are used to getting up very early. At 4.30 am, the train moved. Halleluja.
At 6 am, we stopped again in a small train station, where another train was stopped as well. As our dining car was still closed, Miguel went into that other train to buy breakfast. He came back with two dry cakes and ice tea. At 7 am, there was an announcement that we had to change trains as ours wasn't going any further. The process of everybody getting off with their bags and cardboard boxes was long and complicated, especially as we almost had to jump off the train as the ground was so far below the stairs. In the other train, we got seats with a little help from one of the conductors, and soon after this breakfast was served, some kind of semi-liquid rice slush. I stuck to the dry cake and Oreos.
This train then went on to Dieu Tri, where we arrived just before 9 am. We were supposed to change to a bus here, but a conductor checked our tickets and told us the train was going on and we could stay on, which we did along with most other passengers. As soon as the train had stopped, several women got on trying to sell drinks, coffee and food. One of them wanted to sell her coffee so badly that she started shouting at the people (I think she was slightly crazy). After about 10 minutes the train started, but stopped again after 10 meters. We were told that finally we did have to get off, but none of the train personnel was able to tell us whether there would be onward transport or not.
Coming out of the train station, there did seem to be some sort of organisation. A lot of men in uniform were walking around with lists and paper and pens, and buses were arriving and leaving, taking the passengers to the next station where there would be another train. We waited around for a while, because every arriving bus was instantly full of people and luggage. Finally we decided to have a go, and we did it just like the locals: push all you can. When the bus stopped, I was right in front of the front door. It started to open, and a tiny lady next to me started pushing her big suitcase in front of me. No mercy, I forgot all my European manners, I was first. With my backpack I have both my elbows free and made use of them, jumped on the bus and threw myself on two double seats for us and a Dutch-Swedish couple we met on the train.
The one hour-and-a-half bus journey was actually quite scenic, with nice views of the sea, beaches and green hills. I just had to struggle to keep my eyes open. In the back somebody was constantly retching and vomiting, a normal event on a bus in Asia. They're either genetically more susceptible to motion-sickness, or maybe they travel less, in any case there's always at least one person vomiting.
We arrived at the train station and got on our new train, it was midday. We were lucky to get seats in the Soft Seat car, and soon after we were served a free (although not very filling) lunch of rice, 5 cm2 of meat and 2 shrimps. I was happy to get something different than Oreos.
The train finally left at 1 pm and went at a close to normal speed until Nha Trang, our destination, where we arrived at 3.30 pm, after a 26-hour trip.
The conclusion? Well, I still do not quite understand why nobody seems to communicate, the train crew knowing nothing about what's going on. But then, the locals don't seem to mind, I guess they're used to just "wait and not ask any questions" (again, this seems to be a characteristic of communist/post-communist countries...). They just sleep, just as they do in their shops or on their "cyclos" (sort of bicycle-taxis) when there are no customers. They are just so relaxed.
We arrived at Danang train station at 10 am, having in mind to take the train at just before 11 am, but it was cancelled. There had been a landslide further down the line, but we got a ticket for the next train at 13:13 that should take 8 and a half hours to Nha Trang. We were told that we would have to change for a bus in Dieu Tri because the line was damaged, but that we would arrive in Nha Trang all right, with a delay. Ok, we thought, and bought the ticket.
The train left half an hour late but then went about the usual (slow) speed until it stopped at 5 pm in a small train station, 137 km from our departure. Soon many passengers got off to smoke, and very quickly some local women set up a couple of tables and small stools and started serving food and drinks. At 5.30 it was dark, so they lit small lamps. It looked very cosy but it didn't give me the impression that the train would start again soon.... I continued reading my book and opened a pack of Oreos. Miguel came back with the news that we were waiting for a train from the other direction (the Vietnamese train line is a single line with few crossing possibilities), but nobody knew when that train was going to be here and when we were going to start again.
Hmmmm... lack of communication. We've seen this before, no? In communist or post-communist countries...
At around 6 pm that train arrived, stopped for a few minutes and left again. Supposedly it should have arrived at this station at 3 am - which meant it was 15 hours late. Very encouraging.
After this, our train didn't leave. We were apparently waiting for another train to cross, but again nobody knew where that train was right now and when it would be here. Around 8 pm everybody was told to get on the train, but nothing more happened.
During all this time, I continued to read my book, trying to close my ears to the neverending noise coming from the loudspeakers of TrainTV. The programme was stopped several times and then re-started from the beginning, so we saw the same Hollywood movie twice (something about rattlesnakes) and a selection of Vietnamese pop that made me want to jump out of the window. In between, some sexistic advertisements for soft drinks.
Just when I was about to go and bribe the conductor to turn off this noise pollution, it went off. Heavenly peace.
As all the passengers had got back on the train, the ladies outside packed together their tables, chairs and food, and the platform went completely dark.
Around 9 pm the passengers in our carriage switched off the lights and everybody went to sleep. I was amazed by the ease with which the Vietnamese can sleep in all possible positions, lying down on 2 seats with their feet up against the window, or on the floor on a sheet of newspaper.
The funny thing is that during all that time, the train now being over 4 hours stopped, there was never an announcement or anybody trying to find out what was happening. It was as if it was the most normal thing, everybody settling for the night.
One of the conductors had offered us a bed in the sleeper carriage for a little "contribution" of 100000 Dong, which we declined, knowing that at some point we would have to get off and change to a bus anyway.
At 11.30 pm I woke up because suddenly there was complete silence. Bugger, they had turned off the air conditioning. Breaking into a sweat at once, I went to the front end of the wagon to find a window I could open, and settled there across 2 seats, under the open window, getting wet in the heavy rain that had just started, and tried out the different "Vietnamese" sleeping position, none of which worked for more than 15 minutes. Maybe we should have accepted the conductors offer for the sleeping car?
At about 1 am, the long-waited-for train arrived, stopped for a couple of minutes, and went on. My hopes didn't come true though, we stayed where we were.
I wouldn't have been surprised if the train crew had just decided to go to sleep, or had had too much rice wine.
Shortly after 4 am, as if there had been a signal, people started getting up, went to brush their teeth and wash, and switched the lights on. It was still dark outside, but the Vietnamese are used to getting up very early. At 4.30 am, the train moved. Halleluja.
At 6 am, we stopped again in a small train station, where another train was stopped as well. As our dining car was still closed, Miguel went into that other train to buy breakfast. He came back with two dry cakes and ice tea. At 7 am, there was an announcement that we had to change trains as ours wasn't going any further. The process of everybody getting off with their bags and cardboard boxes was long and complicated, especially as we almost had to jump off the train as the ground was so far below the stairs. In the other train, we got seats with a little help from one of the conductors, and soon after this breakfast was served, some kind of semi-liquid rice slush. I stuck to the dry cake and Oreos.
This train then went on to Dieu Tri, where we arrived just before 9 am. We were supposed to change to a bus here, but a conductor checked our tickets and told us the train was going on and we could stay on, which we did along with most other passengers. As soon as the train had stopped, several women got on trying to sell drinks, coffee and food. One of them wanted to sell her coffee so badly that she started shouting at the people (I think she was slightly crazy). After about 10 minutes the train started, but stopped again after 10 meters. We were told that finally we did have to get off, but none of the train personnel was able to tell us whether there would be onward transport or not.
Coming out of the train station, there did seem to be some sort of organisation. A lot of men in uniform were walking around with lists and paper and pens, and buses were arriving and leaving, taking the passengers to the next station where there would be another train. We waited around for a while, because every arriving bus was instantly full of people and luggage. Finally we decided to have a go, and we did it just like the locals: push all you can. When the bus stopped, I was right in front of the front door. It started to open, and a tiny lady next to me started pushing her big suitcase in front of me. No mercy, I forgot all my European manners, I was first. With my backpack I have both my elbows free and made use of them, jumped on the bus and threw myself on two double seats for us and a Dutch-Swedish couple we met on the train.
The one hour-and-a-half bus journey was actually quite scenic, with nice views of the sea, beaches and green hills. I just had to struggle to keep my eyes open. In the back somebody was constantly retching and vomiting, a normal event on a bus in Asia. They're either genetically more susceptible to motion-sickness, or maybe they travel less, in any case there's always at least one person vomiting.
We arrived at the train station and got on our new train, it was midday. We were lucky to get seats in the Soft Seat car, and soon after we were served a free (although not very filling) lunch of rice, 5 cm2 of meat and 2 shrimps. I was happy to get something different than Oreos.
The train finally left at 1 pm and went at a close to normal speed until Nha Trang, our destination, where we arrived at 3.30 pm, after a 26-hour trip.
The conclusion? Well, I still do not quite understand why nobody seems to communicate, the train crew knowing nothing about what's going on. But then, the locals don't seem to mind, I guess they're used to just "wait and not ask any questions" (again, this seems to be a characteristic of communist/post-communist countries...). They just sleep, just as they do in their shops or on their "cyclos" (sort of bicycle-taxis) when there are no customers. They are just so relaxed.
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