Hell Bus and First Experiences in Vietnam

August 21st

I know, I know... not another blog entry about a bus ride, right?  I’m sorry, this one goes in the books as the worst yet and I need to tell you all the story.

Guys packing a bus up at the station.

So far, the bus rides I’ve taken have been generally unenjoyable, for various reasons.  The one in Peru was literally freezing cold, the one to Uyuni ended up tilted on the side of a dirt road for a few hours, I barfed on the one coming back into Bolivia from Chile, and most recently, had to calm down a chick having a panic attack in Laos.  But this one, dear readers, takes the cake.  I will forever refer to it as “hell bus.”

I’d heard mixed reviews about the night bus ride from Vientiane, Laos to Hanoi, Vietnam.  Some people said it was terrible and advised that I fly if possible, but my Dutch friends wanted to take the bus and were told that it wasn’t that bed.  “The seats are actual beds!” they told me.

So, still having some apprehension, the three of us went to the bus station in Vientiane to get our bus tickets.  After several frustrating conversations with various bus company desk people, we had our tickets for the following evening.  

The view from our seats.

When we got to the station at 6:30pm, we got 3 baguettes to bring with us to snack on if for some reason the bus didn’t stop when we were hungry at some point during the 24 hour+ trip.  We then went to find where our seats were on this sleeper bus. After watching one of the two bus drivers hit an Australian girl on the back because she didn’t take her shoes off on the bus, we were shown our seats.  They were the back three seats on the bottom level, below the top three seats that were all connected.  They were next to the bathroom, which smelled like, well, dirty bus bathroom, but luckily I was fighting a cold so I couldn’t smell anything.

As I saw our seats, I yelled, “Oh yay, now we can have our own private sleepover in here!”  The seats were connected almost like one large seat, and with the other seats above us, it was like we were in our own little cave.  I thought about the summer nights when my friends and I would all climb into a small tent in my backyard for an outdoor sleepover party.  We climbed in through the opening which was approximately 20 inches wide, and sat down in our semi-reclined seats.  

We tested out our seats, saw how far back they went, found out that we couldn’t really sit up without our heads hitting the ceiling, and saw that we had no air conditioning vents in our cave.  When the bus started and we were on our way, we also found out that our cave was positioned above the engine.  *Sigh*

The writing above us.  Hilarious stuff!

It was about 30 minutes later, when we were boiling hot, I was starting to smell the toilet smell, and the three of us realized that other people on our bus had been sold seats that were in the aisles (seriously).  We all put our chairs back and read what had been written on the ceiling above us.

My personal favorite: “Kill yourself while you still can.”  Or maybe, “What did I do to deserve this?” Or perhaps, “Buses are bullshit.”  At this point, I laughed for a straight 10 minutes, tears streaming down my face, because I realized what we were in for.  

At 10:00pm, two and a half hours after we’d left Vientiane, the bus stopped and we all exited.  The stop was not so much a bathroom stop as it was a chance for the two bus drivers to stop and eat dinner.  So, after taking 5 minutes to visit the bathrooms, all of the passengers sat on the curb waiting for our drivers to finish.  Why couldn’t they have eaten before the bus left?  

While we were waiting, I kept hearing a dog barking.  Actually, not barking, it was screaming and crying.  I kept looking around, wondering where the noise was coming from.  The poor dog wouldn’t stop crying, and it sounded terrified.  Finally, I walked around the buses looking for the noise, and horrified, I looked up at the bus that was parked next to ours.  On the roof, squeezed in a wooden crate that was hardly big enough for it and that was tied to the roof with rope, was the dog.  I started gagging and had to walk to the curb where I walked away from the group so I could vomit.  It was one of the saddest things I have ever seen.

We left again at 10:45pm and I was more mentally exhausted than physically after seeing and hearing that dog.  I was in and out of a sweaty sleep for a little over two hours when I felt the bus slow and then turn off.  The bus’ lights were still off but we had stopped somewhere and I peeked my head out to see what was going on.  All around me, people were sleeping, and I seemed to be the only one who was awake.  

Rozan trying to sleep in the sweaty cave.

For 30 minutes, and I’m not exaggerating, I tried to get out of our sweaty sandwich cave, as we’d come to call it at this point.  The exit between me and the bathroom was only about 15 inches and there was a person sleeping in the aisle area there.  I tried time and time again to get out without either breaking my arms or stepping on the sleeping guy’s head, finally managing to get out.  Then, I had to climb to the front of the bus via the ladders that were on the bus for the top bunk people to use.  

The restaurant we waited in for over 5 hours.

I made it out and saw that we were at some restaurant place, saw that it was now 2:00am, and saw that our bus drivers were nowhere to be found.  A few other bus riders filtered out while I sat there, fuming, wondering what the hell was going on.  Finally, around 3:00am, when my friends had finally woken up and joined me in the restaurant, I found out why we were there: the drivers were sleeping.  Oh, and we had to wait until the border between Laos and Vietnam opened at 7am.

Yay! Almost time to leave again!

My thoughts?  WHY DO WE HAVE TO LEAVE AT 7AM ONLY TO STOP FOR DINNER AT 10PM AND THEN TO STOP AGAIN AT 1:30AM?????  WHY COULDN’T WE HAVE LEFT AT 11PM AND DRIVEN STRAIGHT THROUGH? WHY COULDN’T THE BUS DRIVERS HAVE SLEPT BEFORE THE BUS RIDE??

So we sat there, tired, miserable, and angry until 6:30am rolled around and the drivers got back on the bus.  Within 30 minutes, we were already at the border crossing and we left the bus to leave Laos and enter Vietnam.

While we were there, I was reminded of the border crossings in South America where you actually have to walk from the exit building for one country and up the road half of a mile to the building for the entering country.  Normally, that wouldn’t have been that big of a deal, but this time it was raining, and the walk was up hill, and I had gotten 2 hours of sleep and was miserable... 

It was a painful 2 hours where we had to get our Laos exit stamp and also were scammed to pay for our Vietnamese entrance stamp even though we had already paid for visas.  As I was arguing about paying the money to the corrupt border patrol guy, the bus with the dog on top passed us by.

Carola demonstrating how to get in our seats.

We finally got back on the bus around 9:30am and drove for a few hours before stopping for lunch.  The restaurant, if you could call it that, was packed with other bus drivers and riders and was serving basic noodle and rice dishes at card tables with plastic chairs to sit in.  The place did not look even remotely hygienic.  When we were finished, we asked for the bill and made sure the restaurant would take Laos kip because we had yet to get any Vietnamese dong to use.  They said yes, but then told us the amount to be paid in the Laos currency would be the same as the amount if we paid in Vietnamese.  The currency exchange is 2:1. The stupid restaurant owner wanted us to pay double if we were paying in Laos kip.  My thoughts: THIS IS CRAP!

Again we got on the bus, hoping this had been our last stop, but 3 hours later, we stopped again at a tiny shop on the side of the road.  Everyone exited, hoping to buy a coke or a water, only to find that only Vietnamese dong were accepted.  Dejected, we turned around to get back on the bus, but I stopped dead in my tracks as I heard barking again.

Not again... I didn’t want to see that poor dog again.  But the noise was different this time, and I focused on where it was coming from.  From behind our bus, a truck pulled forward where I could see it.  It was covered with metal crates, and in each tiny crate, were anywhere from 3 to 5 dogs smashed into it.  I'm guessing there were at least 75. They all looked malnourished, miserable, and terrified.  They had paws hanging out the holes, shaking around, noses stuck out, and I thought I was going to vomit again.  I couldn’t this time, though -- it was too horrible for me to even move.  I just stood there fixated on the truck until it pulled away again wondering if they were going to be eaten later because dog consumed in north Vietnam... :(

We got back on the bus and finally, 2 hours later, arrived in Hanoi.  The taxi driver tried to make us pay double what he initially promised the price would be and the hostel we wanted to stay at was booked up.  Finally, we got to a new place, got in bed, and vowed that we would never take a bus like that again.  I went to bed hoping my weeks in Vietnam would not be ones where I had to avoid getting ripped off every minute of every day...