Danang seemed dank and dirty as my taxi drove me from Hoi An to the train station. What a difference the rain had made. Four days ago in the blazing sunshine, it appeared like a bustling city set beneath beautiful surroundings. Now, it looked like a shit hole.
I had to wait a good 45 minutes at the station before being able to board my train to NhaTrang. This was the Hanoi to Saigon service - a journey that takes 39 hours if you complete it in full. Can you imagine what that would be like?! Because of the length of the trip, anyone can book a bed for any leg of the journey in a shared room with three other people. I decided against this option. I didn't see the point given that I was travelling during the day, and also didn't fancy walking into a room that three people had been sharing all night from Hanoi.
As I boarded carriage A of the 13.15 service, it became clear this was to be no ordinary train journey. Most people had been here since the train left last night. The floor was covered in litter. People looked knackered, their feet rested upon anything possible, desperate for sleep but unable to get any. At this point, I didn't wonder so much why I hadn't booked a bed for my journey, but more why anyone would put themselves through this for 39 hours.
The train jurked its way out of Danang, and I opened a beer, put on my ipod and started reading a book. These three things can insulate you against pretty much anything. As we headed south, I hoped the weather would improve, and at times the sun did shine through the very dark clouds, but it was only a brief respite. I suppose, in a way, I was lucky to be travelling on a day when the weather was rubbish, rather than being at a beach resort, but I couldn't help feel cheated of the views I could have got of Vietnam's gorgeous landscape.
After a few hours, I moved to the 'restaurant' car at the front of the train. This carriage didn't look as if it had been cleaned or changed in 50 years. The wooden benches were chipped and cracked, the lamps were covered in ash and the floor was filthy. I sat looking out of the open window at the lush green countryside sipping beer, while Vietnamese men dragged on strong cigarettes and the train staff served up plates of rice from one of the biggest cooking dishes I have ever seen. This was why I had travelled by train.
There was just one stop on our epic journey - the station of Dieu Tri, where people alight for the beach resort of Quy Nhon. The weather was really bad when we got here. Rain battered the windows of the train, mist and darkness loomed outside. The cool air conditioning on the train also meant I felt like I was anywhere but South East Asia. It was as if I had arrived at a remote part of the Scottish Highlands in the middle of winter...
Just before 10pm, and a little under nine hours after we had departed Denang, the train arrived in Nha Trang. As I stumbled off after sinking 12 cans of Tiger beer, I was relieved to see the rain had not affected this part of 'Nam and it was very warm even at 10pm...
I had to wait a good 45 minutes at the station before being able to board my train to NhaTrang. This was the Hanoi to Saigon service - a journey that takes 39 hours if you complete it in full. Can you imagine what that would be like?! Because of the length of the trip, anyone can book a bed for any leg of the journey in a shared room with three other people. I decided against this option. I didn't see the point given that I was travelling during the day, and also didn't fancy walking into a room that three people had been sharing all night from Hanoi.
As I boarded carriage A of the 13.15 service, it became clear this was to be no ordinary train journey. Most people had been here since the train left last night. The floor was covered in litter. People looked knackered, their feet rested upon anything possible, desperate for sleep but unable to get any. At this point, I didn't wonder so much why I hadn't booked a bed for my journey, but more why anyone would put themselves through this for 39 hours.
The train jurked its way out of Danang, and I opened a beer, put on my ipod and started reading a book. These three things can insulate you against pretty much anything. As we headed south, I hoped the weather would improve, and at times the sun did shine through the very dark clouds, but it was only a brief respite. I suppose, in a way, I was lucky to be travelling on a day when the weather was rubbish, rather than being at a beach resort, but I couldn't help feel cheated of the views I could have got of Vietnam's gorgeous landscape.
After a few hours, I moved to the 'restaurant' car at the front of the train. This carriage didn't look as if it had been cleaned or changed in 50 years. The wooden benches were chipped and cracked, the lamps were covered in ash and the floor was filthy. I sat looking out of the open window at the lush green countryside sipping beer, while Vietnamese men dragged on strong cigarettes and the train staff served up plates of rice from one of the biggest cooking dishes I have ever seen. This was why I had travelled by train.
There was just one stop on our epic journey - the station of Dieu Tri, where people alight for the beach resort of Quy Nhon. The weather was really bad when we got here. Rain battered the windows of the train, mist and darkness loomed outside. The cool air conditioning on the train also meant I felt like I was anywhere but South East Asia. It was as if I had arrived at a remote part of the Scottish Highlands in the middle of winter...
Just before 10pm, and a little under nine hours after we had departed Denang, the train arrived in Nha Trang. As I stumbled off after sinking 12 cans of Tiger beer, I was relieved to see the rain had not affected this part of 'Nam and it was very warm even at 10pm...
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