Tuesday, December 31, 2013

Seeing Vietnam by Train: Hoi An

After Ho Chi Minh City, we headed to Hoi An by taking the train to the closest city, Da Nang, then getting a taxi to get to Hoi An. After more than 12 hours on the nighttime train from Ho Chi Minh City with little to eat and little sleep, we were exhausted and hungry. We walked out of the train station (where we were immediately accosted by taxi and private-car drivers) looking for a place to eat lunch. We found a tiny dive with no menu, but packed with the locals sitting on child-sized chairs at child-height tables. We sat down with every pair of eyes on us. The other patrons were curious about and amused by us, with our luggage and wide-eyed wonder. A group came and sat next to us, trying to talk with my son and passing us the utensils and napkins, which were actually papers cut into small squares. One man who ended up next to me took it upon himself to be the translator for us. It was a very relaxed and friendly environment.
The Da Nang train station.
In Vietnam, you actually have to cross the tracks sometimes in order to board the train or get into the station.
Then the food started coming and kept on coming -- rice, chicken, pork, shrimp, vegetables, and vegetable soup. It was the best meal we had had in Vietnam at that point. Even though the dishes were simple, everything was cooked to perfection. The meat was tender and infused with flavor. We ate and ate and ate. Even my son, who usually eats little even when hungry, wolfed down multiple helpings of chicken and vegetables with his rice.

Of course, after our experiences in Ho Chi Minh City, I couldn't help but wonder in the back of my mind how much this was going to cost us, knowing that we are obviously not local and didn't know the language, and there was no menu or set price. So, just to get an idea, we asked the guy next to us how much he thought we would pay for the food we ate, since he seemed to be very familiar with the people and the food there, and he told us maybe $4 (or about 80,000 dong).

Sure enough, when it came time to pay, the woman who served us gave us a price that was almost twice that amount. My husband initially thought she asked for 50,000 dong, and started giving that to her. She got upset, thinking that he was trying to haggle with her, and showed him a 50,000 dong bill and a 100,000 dong bill. When he asked again to clarify (because she didn't speak English and we don't speak Vietnamese) and try to see if she would take 100,000 dong, she got angry and walked away, refusing to take any of his money! She and another woman started talking and shouting at each other, pointing at my husband. I wanted to call her bluff and walk away without paying, but my husband felt that it would be wrong to do that (of course, I agree we should pay for our meal, but hey, it would be her own doing if I decided to call her bluff and she ended up losing money). We ended up paying what she wanted just so we could move on. It was still an inexpensive meal given how much food we got, but I hate being taken advantage of just because I'm not one of the locals.

After lunch, we still had the task of getting ourselves to Hoi An. Prior to the trip, I had learned that we could either hire a car, take a taxi, or take a bus. The bus was the cheapest option, but the bus station was fairly far away from the train station, we didn't know where it would drop us off in Hoi An, and I had read that some bus drivers will try to make foreigners pay a lot more to take the bus. The taxi and private-car drivers usually charged 400,000 or 500,000 dong for a ride to Hoi An, but the advice was to negotiate and not pay more than 200,000 dong. Luckily, the minute we left the restaurant and headed back to the train station, a private-car driver came up to us, offering to drive us to Hoi An for 230,000 dong. I countered with 200,000 dong and we had a deal. When I was doing some reading online about the ride from Da Nang to Hoi An, it had sounded like a rather lengthy ride at one or two hours. But we got to our hotel in half an hour! 200,000 dong for half an hour was a good deal for the driver.

Our hotel was beautiful and comfortable. But there was one thing that we didn't like or understand, and we never found out what it was about: Every morning, at around 5:30, we would hear talking and singing over a loudspeaker outside the grounds of the hotel. One morning, it was mostly talking with a little bit of music, while the next morning, it was equal parts talking and singing. This would go on for at least two hours and wake us up at an ungodly hour. We thought perhaps it was propaganda being broadcast to the masses, but we couldn't be sure and forgot to ask the hotel staff about it.
While driving over a bridge, we saw a bridge parallel to us that looked like a dragon. We would drive on the dragon bridge on our way back to the train station to go to Hue.
A beach in Da Nang.
Our hotel in Hoi An.
The hotel restaurant.
Our "welcome drink" of orange, apple, and mint was so delicious!
Instead of a gingerbread house, the restaurant had a cracker house.
The cracker house even had miniature furniture inside!
Our room on the left at the top of the stairs.
I loved our room with its rich, dark wood floors and furniture.
Letting in some of that afternoon sunlight and fresh air.
Our bathroom with a step-down shower and windows that opened out.
View to the left from our balcony.
View to the right from our balcony.
View straight ahead.
Badminton court at our hotel. My son loved the game.
Christmas tree reflected in the pool
The part of Hoi An that we spent our time in was a picturesque, quaint, and touristy little area of town that didn't allow cars and was lined with shops, restaurants, and a market along the river. It is a World Heritage Site and draws visitors from all over the world. While we were there, we noticed many Russian tourists. We also noticed that, the further north we went, the friendlier the people seemed to become. While walking along the streets of Hoi An, browsing through the shops, most vendors would just greet us and invite us to go into their shops, but didn't bother us too much. The only people who harassed us were the boat tour guides. We were approached for a boat tour every few steps we took. I was so annoyed that I just started repeating "No boat!" while walking down the street! That did not make an ounce of difference, of course, and we continued to be followed and harassed by all the boat tour people. 

Hoi An is known for its fabrics and textiles, and its streets are lined with tailor shops that make custom-made clothes and dresses. The tailor shops were filled with beautiful fabrics and different styles of clothes. I had really wanted to have some things made -- maybe a shirt and dress -- while in Hoi An, but because of the limited time we were there, I didn't have enough time to make decisions on what I wanted and I didn't want to make any hasty decisions.
The streets of Hoi An on our first night there.
I loved this building, which was home to a restaurant.
Strolling and taking in the sights at dusk.
Where we ate our first dinner in Hoi An. I had pho, which felt so nice on that chilly night; my husband had a noodle dish special to Hoi An; and my son had a sandwich.
After dinner, we strolled over a bridge to an area where lanterns are made. There were people selling tiny lanterns made with cardboard, which are released into the river for good luck, similar to the Thai custom during Loi Krathong.
All lit up.
Love all the lights and lanterns.
Lanterns hanging from trees.
Dinner on a boat.
Cute little dogs all dressed up, hanging out in front of a shop.
A book store.
A Japanese covered bridge.
On the bridge.
A temple on the bridge.
The bridge from afar.
When this woman realized I was taking a picture of her, she started calling out to me to buy her goods.
Streets of Hoi An.
Love these structures.
Not sure where this doorway led to.
Colorful bowls at the market.
A peek at the market.
The vendors are so good at balancing their goods on their shoulders, no matter how much they have or how heavy they are.
I couldn't get enough of the architecture in Hoi An.
A pretty little shop.
The dreaded boat tours.
This t-shirt appealed to the biologist in my husband.
There were shuttles provided by our hotel to get into town and back to the hotel, which was almost two miles from town. Still, we had to take a taxi at times because the shuttle came at inconvenient times. Other than the shuttle, though, it was pretty inconvenient to get from Hoi An to other places. Actually, it wasn't inconvenient to get to other places, but rather, it was a chore and inconvenient to figure out how to get out of Hoi An without being ripped off. 

For our trip back to the Da Nang train station from Hoi An, we asked the hotel concierge about our transportation options. The hotel provided the service of a car to the train station, but it would cost us 500,000 dong. Meanwhile, everyone we spoke to at the hotel offered us their "friends" who could drive us for 400,000 dong and no less. Finally, we decided to suck it up and take the bus, getting a taxi to take us to the bus station. On the way to the bus station, the taxi driver turned on the meter, but continued to try to persuade us to let him drive us to the train station instead of the bus station close by for 400,000 dong. I countered with 300,000, but he refused and countered with 390,000. My son, who didn't want to take the bus, got into the mix and advised me to offer 370,000. I told the taxi driver I would pay 350,000 and no more, and if he didn't agree, he could just take us to the bus station. Finally, he made a phone call and agreed to charge us 350,000. He left the meter on, though, and pointed out, at the end of a lengthy and meandering ride, that the meter showed a charge of over 500,000 dong, trying to make us feel bad for getting a "good deal." I immediately told him, "Yes, but you took us the long way!" He had no response for that, but shot daggers at me with his eyes. Did he really think we wouldn't notice that he took a different route than our first driver and that this drive was much longer than the last one going into Hoi An (and not because of traffic)?

Nevertheless, it was an enjoyable two-day stay in Hoi An. The atmosphere couldn't be beat, the distinctive architecture was beautiful and interesting, the food was varied and delicious, and the weather was pleasant. What more could one ask for?





Seeing Vietnam by Train: Chuggin' Along

When we decided to visit Vietnam over our winter break, I had the bright idea to travel throughout Vietnam by train. I had always wanted to travel by train; it all sounded so romantic. The train seemed like the quickest way to see as much of the country as possible given our time frame, a notion that was confirmed by everyone we spoke to in Thailand. I did some research, and it turned out that Vietnam has an organized and efficient railway system that goes from north to south and vice versa. It sounded easy and comfortable. Night trains have sleeper cars with four-berth (which had "soft sleepers") or six-berth (which had "hard sleepers") compartments, with the four-berth soft sleepers being more comfortable. Food carts were available on the trains for purchasing meals. It sounded perfect. I found a great Vietnamese travel agency online and booked all three legs of our train trips with them. They were responsive and even delivered our train tickets to our hotel in Ho Chi Minh City.

Our first train trip fell on Christmas Eve, going from Ho Chi Minh City to Da Nang, where we were to travel to Hoi An, a quaint coastal city. The trip would take about 12 hours, so we were to sleep on the train that night.

We checked out of our hotel room early that morning since we were taking a tour of the Cu Chi tunnels that day, which would put us back at the hotel after checkout time, and kept our bags at the hotel during the day. When we got back from the tour at three o'clock that afternoon, we ate a late lunch, got our bags, and headed for the train station, figuring we'd hang out there until our train arrived at 6:30 that night (an hour earlier than its departure time of 7:30) and thinking we'd get our dinner on the train.
The train station in Ho Chi Minh City.
The train arrived and we boarded. Our compartment was so tiny we could barely fit all three of us and our bags. Which was fine since we were just going to be sleeping in it anyway. There were pillows, sheets, and blankets on our beds for us. A friend who has traveled on the Vietnamese trains suggested that we bring our own pillow cases for sleeping, which we did, and were glad we did, as these pillows had been used by who knows how many passengers already before we got them. Our "soft" sleepers were hardly soft, though, and felt hard as wood. I can only imagine how hard the "hard sleepers" must be!

When the train started, it was a louder and bumpier ride than we were expecting. Before the train started, my son had needed to use the bathroom, but we found that the bathroom door was locked. A fellow passenger conveyed to us, in broken English, that the bathrooms weren't accessible until the train started moving. After the train began moving, my husband took my son to the bathroom. They came back with the grim report of the disgusting conditions of the bathrooms. As if that wasn't bad enough, they both reported that it was hard to aim straight into the toilet because the train was moving so much, so the toilet seat was wet with urine. I was horrified. I thought I could wait to go to the bathroom until we got off the train the next day, but I knew a full bladder would keep me up all night. So I waited until the last possible moment before going to sleep to go. It was completely revolting; I tried not to touch anything and got out of there as soon as I could.

Once that disgusting part of the trip was over with, we sat on our beds waiting for the food carts to come by and buy some dinner. After half an hour passed with no food in sight, my husband went searching for it, but found none. Another half an hour passed before the carts finally started rolling around. One cart had chicken feet, which we passed. Another had snack foods. Finally, a cart holding sticky rice, dried pork, and corn on the cob came by. We bought two portions of the sticky rice and dried pork and two corns on the cob. The rice and dried pork were fine, but the corn was the worst corn I had ever had -- it somehow managed to be overcooked, but hard and chewy, at the same time! I felt awful that my kid was starving and couldn't get a proper dinner.

The other strange thing about the train ride was the lack of privacy. While we had a door that we could close and lock, we kept it open while we were awake because the compartment was so tiny and claustrophobic. People walking by would just step into our compartment to let others through the narrow hallway or just to poke their heads in for a look. It was kind of funny. But even when we locked our door while sleeping that night, the train conductor would unlock it a couple of times to look in and show boarding passengers our compartment because we still had one unoccupied bed. Needless to say, between the sometimes jerky movements of the train, the stops, the noises, the hard bed, other passengers talking, and having our door opened and closed, we didn't sleep well that night. My son had a good time, though. He had a top bunk, which excited him to no end. He loved being able to look out the window while snuggled in bed.

The next morning, Christmas Day, we were up bright and early, before 6 a.m. Around six o'clock, our train stopped for about 20 minutes at a station that was alive with the morning market. We opened our door to take a peek and to see where we were. I was still waking up and a bit disoriented when, suddenly, a Vietnamese woman appeared in our compartment, asking if we wanted baguettes and coffee. We had no idea what was going on, thinking this woman was one of those food cart people, so we said yes. A few minutes later, she appeared with three baguettes, a container of Laughing Cow cheese, and two coffees (when we asked for only one as I don't drink coffee), and asking for a payment that we knew was way too much for what she was giving us. It was then that we realized that she was a vendor from the market at the station, trying to sell her food on the train while it was stopped. I told her that what she was asking for was too much and tried to give back the food. She got angry, shoved the food back at me, and took the cheese. We gave her back one of the coffees and told her we would pay her half of what she was asking. She was very upset and tried to grab more money from my husband! We went back and forth like this for about a minute or so. Finally, we told her we were just paying her what we had already given her and told her to go away, which she did. But she came back at least three more times to try to sell us more food. What a way to start our Christmas!

Many more vendors from the market came on the train, giving us the once-over and accosting us in our sleeper compartment with their goods. It was extremely intrusive. Even when we closed our door, they would open it and stick their goods in to try to sell it to us. It was a relief when we finally pulled out of the station.

Even after that experience, though, it was still sad seeing the farmers toiling away in their fields by 6 a.m., the peasants peddling their goods so early in the morning, and even some of the people on our train, with their old and ragged clothes and plastic bags as luggage. They have to work so hard to have the lives that they do, and even then, it's a very difficult life. I felt so lucky to have been born into the circumstances that I was and to be living the comfortable life that I am. One old woman on the day train we were on a couple of days later, sitting behind us, particularly saddened me. Being Asian with white hair, she reminded me of my beloved maternal grandmother. She had with her a big plastic bag of round objects -- maybe something she was selling? -- her clothes were ill-fitting and mismatched; the skin of her hands was worn, shriveled, and wrinkled; her nails were dirty and ragged. Her eyeglasses were crooked on her nose. She couldn't take her eyes off me and my son for the entire trip, looking at us silently with her sad eyes. Seeing how the Vietnamese people live has given all of us some perspective. I think it really opened my son's eyes to see that there are kids his age who don't live like he does, who are out on the streets, barefooted and unwashed, trying to sell bananas to tourists.

Still, I would say the train was a good and quick way of seeing Vietnam. Because of the train, we got to see much more of Vietnam in less than two weeks than we have seen of Thailand in five months -- other cities and towns, the coast, the mountains, the countryside. As long as you know what to expect and prepare yourself for what's coming, it's not a problem. The only reason I would recommend against traveling on the night train in Vietnam is the condition of the train bathrooms.

Here are some pictures I took of the scenery while on the train from Ho Chi Minh City to Da Nang. Vietnam really is beautiful.
All the scooters waiting for our train to go by.
The market where the Baguette Lady tried to take our money.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
A big cemetery. We saw several small graveyards scattered around the countryside, some of them quite close to houses and rice fields, which made us wonder if people just bury their dead family members by their homes.
Our day train ride from Da Nang to Hue was much better than our night train ride. The seats were comfortable, and I didn't have to be subjected to the bathrooms because it was only a two-hour ride. Still, passengers left their trash -- fruit peels, food containers, eggshells -- all over the train, and the conductor had to sweep it all up. It also was loud on the train. So many people were playing music and watching movies on their phones and tablets without wearing ear buds. It was really annoying, though not surprising. Still, I managed to get a nice nap in. 

This ride took us along the coast and mountains; the view was spectacular, even with the fog and rain that never left us that day. At this point, the temperatures were in the upper 50s or lower 60s, much lower than when we were in Ho Chi Minh City, which was at least in the 80s and hot and humid. We were bundled up like we'd never done before in Asia, wearing four or five layers of clothes. The chill in the air made me miss the U.S. more than I'd felt the past two months, remembering warm fires in fireplaces and the coziness and warmth of our home in the U.S.
 
Watching the front of our train snake around the mountain.
 
 

The overnight train ride we took from Hue to Hanoi was a bit better, since we now knew what to expect and were better prepared. We bought dinner to eat on the train before boarding, did not buy any breakfast from anyone at any market, and the bathroom was a little cleaner. But the ride itself was as bumpy as ever. The train made many jerky stops during the night, and we were woken up each time. These train rides were definitely a once-in-a-lifetime experience, one that we will not forget anytime soon.