Ho Chi Minh, Vietnam:
Filled with intrepidation surrounding my impending debut sleeper train journey that would set off for Da Nang that afternoon; a journey that would take 18 long hours and required getting some shut eye overnight on a bunk in a cramped cabin; a journey I had no idea how to prepare for, and one I was excitedly apprehensive for; I found myself packing and unpacking my bags several times to make sure I had all my belongings.
Packing was tiresome, and before long I’d worked up a little bit of a sweat, and my shoulders had started to ache just by looking at the size of my backpack, so I took myself off for a massage. A well deserved massage may I add.
Walking through the main backpacker district of Ho Chi Minh, I wasn’t short on places that could provide me with a good rub-down, although I wasn’t after a happy ending at this stage, so I trod carefully for fear of choosing a seedy brothel by mistake.
Finding a semi-ok looking parlour, I entered and was treated to a massage like nothing I’ve had before. The teeny lady in charge of relieving my aching limbs literally began jumping all over my body – first she knelt on my legs, then my back, then she dug her elbows into my shoulders, then she levelled herself and stood up, balancing along my spine like a surfer on a surfboard and continued to prod and poke my torso with each and every one of her extremities, walking up and down my back as if on a balancing beam. Once her brutal battering had ceased (although in fairness I quite enjoyed it), she went deep with the massaging and I could feel the toxins leave my body as she ran her hands firmly over my shoulders.
Once finished I was satisfied that my subjection to this sadistic bodily abuse had been worth the 290,000 VND I was set to pay (around AUD$16/£10) and was about to leave content and relaxed, until both the shop tout and the masseuse cornered me with a slip of paper and asked how much of a tip I’d like to leave, and gave me a choice, either 120,000 or 150,000! With no way out of the situation and not wanting to offend (how I wish I wasn’t so British sometimes) I reluctantly pointed to the 120,000 option, and left 410,000 VND out of pocket, pissed off that they’d fleeced me out of more money than I’d intended on spending. To say the words ‘brazenly cheeky’, ‘dodgy chancers’ and ‘Del Boy wheeler dealers’ sprung to mind would be an understatement.
Anyways, it was time for one last ‘tourist must’ before I left, and at noon I climbed the nine floors up to The View Rooftop for a 360 of Ho Chi Minh and a bite to eat. And I wasn’t disappointed.
Arriving at Saigon railway station (which is a run-down, dirty old place) in good time for my 2:30 train, I went about finding my platform. Once I’d located the train and coach number, I hopped on, showed the conductor my ticket and went to find my cabin. And it was less frightening than I thought. Well, in broad daylight at least. The cabins were small and compact. Each with four bunks, storage spaces above and below the beds, and a small table next to the window with some complimentary water for us passengers. Anxious to know who I’d be sharing a cabin with on this lengthy journey, not wanting some seedy pervert or a bunch of drunken scoundrels to take up residence (especially after yesterday’s shenanigans), I was relieved when a Vietnamese family of four entered and took up the bottom two bunks. Mum, dad, and two young sons; one clad in a Bayern Munich kit, the other wearing a transformers two piece, all smiles and chatter.
It wasn’t long before the train set off and we were joined by an older Vietnamese lady with a huge sack of rice and a basket full of food. And although my heart longed to sit in the doorway between carriages, or stand at the windows watching the colours of Vietnam pass me by, I had no idea where, when, or even if there would be any points of interest along the way. Of course, the fields and paddies would be in abundance and it would be interesting to watch the rural part of this country speed past but I couldn’t bring myself to stand at a window for five long hours until the sun set, waiting for the perfect landscape to come into view. Instead, I took the opportunity to say hello to my compadres and return to reading Great Expectations – a book I’d started a million times before but had yet to finish – and cracked open a beer.
Three hours into the journey and the sun was getting low in the sky. The children on the bottom bunks were getting restless and hungry and so I seized the opportunity to maybe impart a little western culture on them. I pulled out my purse and emptied it of the last Australian dollars in cash that I owned, I gave the coins to the children, and one note to the parents and another to the older lady. So in awe of this alien currency were they that they couldn’t stop giggling and chattering among themselves, stopping at intervals to show me the biggest coin which I took to mean they wanted to know how much it was worth. All seven dollars of the money I gave them would exchange to around 120,000 VND – a meal for the family and then some. I think they were pretty happy with their new acquisitions – the kids flicking the coins at each other and the parents staring at the note for what seemed like forever – so much so that the lady on the top bunk shared her dinner with me – a fish and rice curry of some sort. And it was delicious. Better than my cheese crackers and banana any day of the week.
I made a quick toilet break (which by the way was disgusting; if you ever travel by sleeper train, take tissue and sanitiser, you’ll thank me for it later) and on the way back parked myself by a window to catch the last of the daylight and watch the world pass me by. It was miraculous. I felt calm and inspired; the Vietnamese kindness and friendliness had surprised me; the rolling hills of the countryside were beautiful; and at that moment in time I felt very, very lucky.
Chasing Amy-Lou 