Links to other Vietnam pages  Hue  Hoi An  Nha Trang  Hanoi  Sapa  Halong Bay

I'd thought that the slow trip through northern Laos on the cargo boat was pretty uncomfortable, but not even that had prepared me for the sheer awfulness of the bus trip from hell.

In 1984, George Orwell has room 101 as the room that holds your ultimate terror. Winston Smith's particular terror was rats, which I always thought was a bit of a cop out, unless accompanied by cheese and Patrick Bateman. Until the 16th of April 2000 I would have been hard pressed to say what would go in my room 101. But on this date I knew that I would do anything to avoid repeating the bus trip from Savannakhet to Lao Bao. Love Big Brother? I'd have his babies. Anything but this.

As soon as the bus pulled away it was clear that this was not going to be a fun trip. The bus was old and rickety, which was bad. The seat cushions were not fixed to the floor, which was bad. The suspension, erm what suspension? The suspension had long since been destroyed. Every time we went over a bump, everyone on the back seat went flying. In town this wasn't so bad, because the roads were mostly paved, but once we got on what was laughably called a main road, the potholes became more frequent, the lack of comfort more extreme. It was obvious we would get no sleep at all if we sat on the seats, so we pulled them off, and sat on the floor, using them as pillows. This was better, but still with every pothole, the seat would jump, our heads would jump and then would bang back down on the floor. Sleep was out of the question, so minimising pain became the prime objective, but even this was a goal that was too hard to achieve.

By the time we reached the border, we were broken in spirit and bruised in body, praying that we would get through the border, so we wouldn't have to make the trip back.

The border was slow and bureaucratic, and there was a 1km walk from the Laos side to the Vietnam side, but no-one had a problem getting through. We fought for the front seats on the bus and were largely successful. While we waited on the bus, money change girls got on and changed our useless kip for slightly less useless dong, ripping us off well in the process. The road from Lao Bao to Hue was much better than it had been on the Laos side, and I soon passed out.

A banana seller

A fish seller

When we arrived in Hue we were transferred to a minibus and driven to a hotel. The hotel was nice, but too expensive, so after we'd prevaricated for a while and checked out some alternatives we beat them down to $10 for a twin room, Ali and I sharing. This was more than we'd usually been paying in Laos, but the standard was excellent. The bathroom even had a bath, which was made good use of in our time there.

After checking in I went for a wander round Hue, though I was too tired to appreciate it, so I came back to the hotel and crashed out for a few hours before meeting the others for a very subdued evening meal - all of us still reliving the horrendous bus journey.

The City wall

This was a trip to sunny climes, wasn't it? So why was it cold and wet the next morning? Rainy season was supposed to be long gone (though not so long that it was due again). I naively assumed that although it was raining it would still be warm, so set off in my shorts and t-shirt. And got very wet and cold.

In the forbidden city

So for the afternoon I changed into something more appropriate, dug out my raincoat from the depths of my luggage and went into the old city, or forbidden city or imperial city, depending on who you talked to. We were staying over the perfume river in a more residential part of the city, so this involved a trip over the Trang Tien bridge into the heart of the town. Hue has been promoted as one of the most beautiful cities in Asia, and the old city certainly has some charm.

The forbidden city

As is common practice throughout Vietnam, there was one price for Vietnamese and a far far more expensive price for tourists.

The forbidden city

The night life in Hue was pretty good. We took to using the DMZ bar early on and gravitating to the Brown Eyes, which was just down the road from our hotel and so handy for staggering home. The owner of Brown Eyes was small and thin and looked like he would blow over in the wind. But occasionally he would flex his muscles, and it was obvious that this was not a man to pick a fight with.

The forbidden city

All the hotels in Vietnam seem to shut their front doors at about midnight, and then leave some poor sod sleeping downstairs to open it in the event that some of the guests are not in bed by this time.

The forbidden city

Hue is not a great place when you have a hangover. Whether you need soothing streams and gentle surroundings, or to be left alone, Hue just doesn't cut it. There's not much motorised traffic, which is nice. There is a surfeit of underemployed cyclo drivers, which is not. A cyclo is like a rickshaw, but built around a bicycle. The drivers accost anyone western and tout for business. Some of them go away if you shake your head or say "No, thank you". Some of them won't go away without hassling you more: "Where you go?", "Want cyclo tour, 1 hour?", and so on. I woke up with a bad head and had to go to the bank to get some money.

Hordes of cyclists

The forbidden city

There are signs all over Vietnam that remind you that the dong is the official currency and that no other currency should be used.

The forbidden city

Along the river

Rush hour in Hue

That evening we ventured to the Apocalypse Now bar, which the Lonely Planet indicates is a bit aggressive, but seemed like a bustling busy bar to me. Ali had met a German lady, Renate, during the day and she also joined us, both for this night and for our stay in Hoi An.

A bottle opener

We spent the final day on a trip through the DMZ, the demilitarised zone, not the bar. This began with a drive to Dong Ha and then breakfast. I'd just sat down again, after visiting the loo, when a voice behind me said "Hi, Chris!". As if by magic Jon had appeared. He'd cut short his trip to Laos and was now working his way to Hanoi, but staying in Dong Ha rather than Hue.

The tour took us around some of the more famous sites from the American war. At most of these there wasn't much to see - after 25 years of relative peace, many of the physical scars have healed. But there were a still a couple of places where there was more than just a story to be told.

A US memorial

A bombed church

The highlight for me was the tunnels at on the coast at Vinh Moc. These were a network of tunnels on three levels, which took years to build. One American is alleged to have said, after visiting the tunnels, that now he understood why they had lost the war. In the attached museum there are photographs from the war, complete with shameless propaganda.

For our final evening, we went out for a meal in one of the more traditional restaurants, the Lac Thien. As we were about to leave we were all presented with a standard Vietnamese bottle opener, basically a flat stick with a nut and bolt through it (left). It functions surprisingly well.

The climax to the city celebrations

This was the last night of the Hue festival, so the river was a hive of activity. There were hordes of Vietnamese girls in traditional dress hurrying to their place in the parades and hundreds or thousands of boats were floating down the river with many candles on each.

Links to other Vietnam pages  Hue  Hoi An  Nha Trang  Hanoi  Sapa  Halong Bay

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Last modified on 10th December 2008 2:07 PM EST

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