In most cases during travel, it is on a bus where the most interesting stories unfold. Sometimes you see your life flash before your eyes as the bus driver veers into oncoming traffic to pass a truck carrying fifteen Vietnamese workers in its bed...and in other cases you spend seven hours strait staring out the window, taking in the country side...lost in your own thoughts. I've had my fair share of both experiences, but I think the bus ride that tops them all off is the ride...no, the JOURNEY from Laos to Vietnam.
First, there is no actual bus schedule or station in the small village of ....Nong Kiauw, Laos...In fact, we were told the day bus only sometimes comes. But the night bus is a sure thing. Great, night bus it is! 'What time?' 'Well, between 6pm and midnight, you'll have to flag it down. And so the journey begins...
We set up shop at one of the three restaurants in town at 5:45 (In the unlikely event there was an early arrival...we were ready!) When I say we, I mean me and Chey...of course, and our new friend Leonardo, who we picked up in Luang Probang. 100% Italian, in all senses of the word, hilarious, and completely opinionated. Our little threes company family decided the best way to pass the time consisted of dinner, card games, and lots of beer. Whoever was in the seat closest to the road was nominated to jump up and flag down anything with an engine sounding through town. Mostly false alarms. Luckily, when the real bus came...at 11:30pm, it gave us a warning honk. A sound that would be burned into my brain forever.
I should have taken it as a clue that this was not going to be a typical excursion through Laotian jungle (not that there is such thing) when two men took my pack and launched it onto the roof of the bus. Alright, no big deal. That's just how they roll. Besides, I have a feeling this bus was not designed for the 11 hour mountain terrain ahead. It reminded me of those metal framed yellow school buses we took in elementary school. One that had been to hell and back that is.
With my first step on the bus I needed to hurl myself over about 5 bags of rice that were stacked in the walk way. There were no seats left on the bus. Still, l made my way through a bit of commotion through the isle and noticed some re-arranging going on in the back. Some people, including a young mom with a baby strapped to her front, were moving toward the front to their "new seats"...a stool (or a rice bag) in the isle way. I thought two different scenarios at this point, a) they were being jerks so they can charge us more to cram us on this over crowded POS bus or b) they made these people move because they didn't pay for a seat. Looking back I'm leaning towards the latter, for on this bus ride through Laos I saw first hand a whole new level of poverty.
It all began with us cramming three to a seat and the bus driving blasting Asian pop music! Really? I get that he needs to stay awake, but doesn't a "night bus" usually mean a time for the passengers to catch some zzzzz? Not a chance. Plus, I was sitting next to a man who looked ancient and kept hauking lougies out the window. Sleep wasn't in the cards tonight. Anyway, there were a few stops along the way in small villages that lined the road side. The bus driving gave a long repetitive warning honk and every once in a while someone would run frantically into the road to flag us down. Thankfully some people got off too. A chance for me to move seats. Nice!
Pee breaks were another story. We stopped on the side of the road, but if you think a toilet is anywhere in the Laotian jungle where there are signs saying "we are proud to have Tigers" you would be mistaken! It was more of a pop a squat in the dark shadow of the night sort of situation. Cheyenne, being the first to brave this very situation, also found out they were proud to have cows roaming their Laotian jungle. It wasn't until she was back on the bus and we were all asking "where's that smell coming from?" when she discovered a huge pile of cow dung covering her Chaco (basically sandals on steroids). I know, gross. Her solution? Bagging the sucker and hanging it out the window. Genius!
As the night grew longer, the sun finally came up and we barged deeper into the jungle. The Asian pop music got cut, thank God, and really...it was a beautiful ride. Such a silver lining. In the wee hours of the morning we passed villages and passing through I smiled at the group of locals squatting around a tiny bon fire to keep warm. The kids waved at me. Green, lush jungle covering the mountains for as far as the eye could see and the road....windy. Oh, I forgot to mention one thing...The road from Nong Khiaw is a one lane road, meaning only enough room for one car, or in our case bus, at a time. I only mention this because it is pertinent to understanding the severity of this sleepless night. At every turn on the windiest road I've ever seen, and I am not exaggerating, the driver leaned on his horn and it sounded its waring honk at full blast! This was to surely to avoid a head on collision and not because he wanted to drive us insane on no sleep, in this rickety bus, with blaring tunes...right?
In case you though we never would...we made it to Samnua. Small town. Nothing going on. But don't get too excited because we are still in Laos at this point. The journey ends in Vietnam remember.
Day two. We booked a seat on a mini bus to take up through the boarder crossing all the way to Hanoi. I can't believe I am actually getting my ass back on a bus after the last nights journey, but we had placed to go and things to see. Go team!
We were the only three people on the bus when we boarded and I couldn't have been more excited. I slid off my shoes, stretched my legs, and after last nights sleep I could actually be happy about being awake on this ride. Gosh, day buses are so much better! In my opinion...you're not wasting a day on a bus. Your taking in the sights and not painfully trying to sleep. But maybe I'm bias. Anyway, we made it to the Vietnam boarder and immediately felt a change in the air. These people meant business and we were Americans. Oh, crap! Should we be worried about that? I mean everyone in Laos was so welcoming, but considering our history (or should I say recent past) I'm not sure if the Vietnamese feel the same way. Not to worry. We got thorough after they searched our packs and starred us down. Machine guns and all. We are so close...i can almost taste the Pho.
So, as you can imagine my excitement about this bus' head count was definitely premature. It was packed within a few stops past the boarder. There was much more turn over this time and I sat next to an assortment of new people. Of course I ended up in the row where they added the "middle seat" that connected the two side seats of the bus. Lined with passengers this one dude pinned me up against my window seat so hard I had to take a deep breath in to gain an extra millimeter of room. Can he not see there is a person sitting here? Clearly not. He got off and a group of four Vietnamese village woman got on. At this point we were again going through some very remote an poor areas. All I could think about was how incestual these communities must be....but that's a different blog. Back to the women. They sat right in between Cheyenne and I. Their smiles revealed a thick coating of what looked like red wax covering their teeth. We later found out that it is an addictive berry they chew to get a buzz. We smiled back and said "Sabadee" which is hello in Laos since we had not yet gotten our Vietnamese language briefing. It wasn't until three of the four women began to puke into the barf-bags they give you on the bus that I though I would loose my cool. Cheyenne flew over the seat so fast I barely saw it happen. She, now sitting with Leo in the back left me pinned...no trapped in my window seat. Help!
That didn't last long and the women were off at the next village stop and I was regrouping. 9 hours later we made it to a town south of Hanoi for out transfer where we immediately got off our mini-bus and boarded another mini bus to take us the rest of the way to Hanoi. My feet barely touched the ground before the bus took off down the road. They were on a mission and didn't care who they left behind. Four hours after that we got kicked off as fast as we got on. "Hurry go! Here! Hanoi!" We had made it friends. Hurray! After two daysYou can imagine from the shear brevity of my explanation of our last bus ride that not only am I sick of talking about it, I was ready for it to end. And so...the end!
