Lesson 1: “Tourist bus” is a relative term.
After much difficulty and frustration, we booked a bus from Hue, Vietnam to the capital of Laos, Vientaine. We knew it was a 22 hour trip that we might regret taking. But we wanted to get there and were up for an adventure. Only, we didn’t realize just how much of an adventure it would be. Our bus was scheduled to pick us up at our hotel at 9:15 am. 9:15 came and went and after asking our hotel staff to call the travel company, our ride arrived at about 10:15. Only instead of a tourist bus, it was two men on motos. They assured us they would take us around the corner to the travel agency to get our bus. Unsure and unhappy, we let them pile our heavy packs onto their bikes and hopped on. Next thing we know we’re zipping across town, over a bridge, clearly not in the direction of the travel agency. Julie’s moto zooms past a red light and as my driver waits at the light, I have images of them separating us and bringing us somewhere to harvest our organs. I’m relieved when I see Julie and her driver again – only not at a travel agency, but at a sugar cane juice stand on the side of the road. I’m dropped off and sit down in a tiny plastic chair while Julie’s moto driver offers us sugar cane juice and cigarettes. Julie accepts a smoke and I think, “my lungs will go for a premium now.” We learn then that our tourist bus from Hue is actually coming from Danang and is running 40 minutes late. 40 minutes become an hour and Julie and I strategize about what to do if the bus that arrives has no A/C. We’re not luxury travelers by any means, but on a 20+ hour ride, A/C is essential. Bus pulls up. They toss our bags onto the back of the bus through the window, I give Julls the thumbs up after checking for A/C. We get on and about halfway to the back of the bus we smell the strong fish odor. The bus driver kicks someone out of 2 seats at the very back and tells us to sit down. The floor of our seat is full of crates of fruits and vegetables and we insist they move them out so we have somewhere to put our feet. The bus is packed with people and crates of vegetables, bags of rice, and who knows what else. So if by “tourist bus” they meant we would be the only tourists, then “yes” this was a tourist bus.
Lesson 2: Don’t expect the tourist bus to wait for you at the border crossing.
A few hours in, we hit the border of Vietnam. The bus empties so people can get their passports stamped. We grab our small packs with our valuables and leave our large packs on the bus. We are last in line and the border patrol act as though they have never seen an American passport. As we’re delayed, we get the eerie feeling that the bus is no longer outside. While one of us waits with border patrol the other looks up the road but the bus is nowhere to be found. We try to find people we recognize from the bus but we’ve gotten so delayed, that they are all gone. We leave the Vietnam border and walk to the Laos border where we have to apply for a visa upon arrival. As we fill out our paperwork, we assure each other that the bus must just be ahead in the parking lot, but we just can’t see it. We’re keeping calm but definitely getting a little nervous at this point. We take care of our visas and keep walking to the last checkpoint in the border crossing. The bus is nowhere. I try to explain to the officer, “We on bus. Bus went away. Where bus go?” No luck. By now we’re talking about the possibility of having lost most of our belongings on the runaway bus (thank god we had our valuables on us) and potentially being stranded 20 hours from our destination. Two moto drivers approach us and tell us to hop on. We somehow think they know where our bus is, but they could also be interested in our organs as well. What to do? We hop on back, no helmets, and pray that the $1 we promised them is well spend. Indeed, it is. As we come up a hill just a few kms from the border, we see the bus parked at a lot and all of its inhabitants squatting, eating, killing time. No one pays much attention to our arrival and Julls and I high-five each other for the best $1 we’ve ever spent.
Lesson 3: Don’t expect to sleep on the tourist bus.
A few things to keep you awake:
1. The Vietnamese music blaring at a deafening decimal ALL throughout the night.
2. The bumps and swerves on the Laotian roads leaving you wondering if you’ll ever arrive at your destination in one piece.
3. The man in the row next to you who screams something in a language you don’t understand for no apparent reason. (Maybe talking in his sleep?)
4. The bathroom stop in the middle of the night where you think you’re going to a toilet, but then realize all the women are running across the road into a ditch where they are peeing.
5. Or my personal favorite: I keep hearing the styrophome box behind Julie’s seat brushing up against her seat and making a sound as annoying as nails on a chalkboard. During our dinner break, I went onto the bus to get something from my bag and heard the styrophome box making the same scratching noises – only the bus wasn’t moving and it wasn’t rubbing against the seat. It was then I realized there was something – or some things alive in the box! At irregular intervals through the night it would scrape at its crate and wake us up.
Lesson 4: Sometimes 7:30 am arrival actually means 3:00 am arrival.
The bus halted to a stop. At first we thought it was another “toilet” break, but everyone started collecting their vegetables and getting off. “Damn – we have to switch buses now,” we thought. Only people told us, “Vientiane, Vientiane.” Groggy, I looked at the sign and we were indeed in Vientiane. We arrived 4.5 hrs earlier than they had told us when we bought the ticket – which we wouldn't have minded had it not been 3:00 am at a bus station in a strange country. Tuk tuk drivers surrounded us trying to take us here and there. We’re disoriented and don’t know who to trust or where to go since our hotel won’t be open that early. We debate our options while the drivers hover too close for comfort and we decide to stay at the bus station, which is lit, has other people there, and seems relatively safe – perhaps we’ll stay there until the sun comes up. We have a cell phone so we can try to get into the hotel early. Only the phone is dead despite charging it the night before. Julie finds an outlet and stands in the bus station while trying to charge the phone. I am desperate for a toilet since I didn’t use the ditch earlier, but the station toilet appears to be closed. Eventually the phone charges, but we are unable to make a call locally for some reason. At that moment, I realize I have my cell phone from home. I open it and it has bars. I have no idea what it will cost to call from it, but I dial and get through to our hotel where I’ve clearly woken the night watch. I explain our predicament in broken English and he says we can come at 7:30. Julie hears this from me: “How about 6:30? How about 5:30? How about now?” I kindly refuse to take no for an answer and the exhausted night watch eventually says, “ok, come now.” Julie gets to work convincing a tuk tuk driver to take us for 20,000 kip (roughly $1US) and $2US which is basically all the cash we have. She too, is successful. Finally we make it to our hotel and collapse into our beds after quick showers.
Lesson 5: Bring your sense of humor & resourcefulness & expect the unexpected whenever you take a tourist bus on a 20+ hour border crossing!
After much difficulty and frustration, we booked a bus from Hue, Vietnam to the capital of Laos, Vientaine. We knew it was a 22 hour trip that we might regret taking. But we wanted to get there and were up for an adventure. Only, we didn’t realize just how much of an adventure it would be. Our bus was scheduled to pick us up at our hotel at 9:15 am. 9:15 came and went and after asking our hotel staff to call the travel company, our ride arrived at about 10:15. Only instead of a tourist bus, it was two men on motos. They assured us they would take us around the corner to the travel agency to get our bus. Unsure and unhappy, we let them pile our heavy packs onto their bikes and hopped on. Next thing we know we’re zipping across town, over a bridge, clearly not in the direction of the travel agency. Julie’s moto zooms past a red light and as my driver waits at the light, I have images of them separating us and bringing us somewhere to harvest our organs. I’m relieved when I see Julie and her driver again – only not at a travel agency, but at a sugar cane juice stand on the side of the road. I’m dropped off and sit down in a tiny plastic chair while Julie’s moto driver offers us sugar cane juice and cigarettes. Julie accepts a smoke and I think, “my lungs will go for a premium now.” We learn then that our tourist bus from Hue is actually coming from Danang and is running 40 minutes late. 40 minutes become an hour and Julie and I strategize about what to do if the bus that arrives has no A/C. We’re not luxury travelers by any means, but on a 20+ hour ride, A/C is essential. Bus pulls up. They toss our bags onto the back of the bus through the window, I give Julls the thumbs up after checking for A/C. We get on and about halfway to the back of the bus we smell the strong fish odor. The bus driver kicks someone out of 2 seats at the very back and tells us to sit down. The floor of our seat is full of crates of fruits and vegetables and we insist they move them out so we have somewhere to put our feet. The bus is packed with people and crates of vegetables, bags of rice, and who knows what else. So if by “tourist bus” they meant we would be the only tourists, then “yes” this was a tourist bus.
Lesson 2: Don’t expect the tourist bus to wait for you at the border crossing.
A few hours in, we hit the border of Vietnam. The bus empties so people can get their passports stamped. We grab our small packs with our valuables and leave our large packs on the bus. We are last in line and the border patrol act as though they have never seen an American passport. As we’re delayed, we get the eerie feeling that the bus is no longer outside. While one of us waits with border patrol the other looks up the road but the bus is nowhere to be found. We try to find people we recognize from the bus but we’ve gotten so delayed, that they are all gone. We leave the Vietnam border and walk to the Laos border where we have to apply for a visa upon arrival. As we fill out our paperwork, we assure each other that the bus must just be ahead in the parking lot, but we just can’t see it. We’re keeping calm but definitely getting a little nervous at this point. We take care of our visas and keep walking to the last checkpoint in the border crossing. The bus is nowhere. I try to explain to the officer, “We on bus. Bus went away. Where bus go?” No luck. By now we’re talking about the possibility of having lost most of our belongings on the runaway bus (thank god we had our valuables on us) and potentially being stranded 20 hours from our destination. Two moto drivers approach us and tell us to hop on. We somehow think they know where our bus is, but they could also be interested in our organs as well. What to do? We hop on back, no helmets, and pray that the $1 we promised them is well spend. Indeed, it is. As we come up a hill just a few kms from the border, we see the bus parked at a lot and all of its inhabitants squatting, eating, killing time. No one pays much attention to our arrival and Julls and I high-five each other for the best $1 we’ve ever spent.
Lesson 3: Don’t expect to sleep on the tourist bus.
A few things to keep you awake:
1. The Vietnamese music blaring at a deafening decimal ALL throughout the night.
2. The bumps and swerves on the Laotian roads leaving you wondering if you’ll ever arrive at your destination in one piece.
3. The man in the row next to you who screams something in a language you don’t understand for no apparent reason. (Maybe talking in his sleep?)
4. The bathroom stop in the middle of the night where you think you’re going to a toilet, but then realize all the women are running across the road into a ditch where they are peeing.
5. Or my personal favorite: I keep hearing the styrophome box behind Julie’s seat brushing up against her seat and making a sound as annoying as nails on a chalkboard. During our dinner break, I went onto the bus to get something from my bag and heard the styrophome box making the same scratching noises – only the bus wasn’t moving and it wasn’t rubbing against the seat. It was then I realized there was something – or some things alive in the box! At irregular intervals through the night it would scrape at its crate and wake us up.
Lesson 4: Sometimes 7:30 am arrival actually means 3:00 am arrival.
The bus halted to a stop. At first we thought it was another “toilet” break, but everyone started collecting their vegetables and getting off. “Damn – we have to switch buses now,” we thought. Only people told us, “Vientiane, Vientiane.” Groggy, I looked at the sign and we were indeed in Vientiane. We arrived 4.5 hrs earlier than they had told us when we bought the ticket – which we wouldn't have minded had it not been 3:00 am at a bus station in a strange country. Tuk tuk drivers surrounded us trying to take us here and there. We’re disoriented and don’t know who to trust or where to go since our hotel won’t be open that early. We debate our options while the drivers hover too close for comfort and we decide to stay at the bus station, which is lit, has other people there, and seems relatively safe – perhaps we’ll stay there until the sun comes up. We have a cell phone so we can try to get into the hotel early. Only the phone is dead despite charging it the night before. Julie finds an outlet and stands in the bus station while trying to charge the phone. I am desperate for a toilet since I didn’t use the ditch earlier, but the station toilet appears to be closed. Eventually the phone charges, but we are unable to make a call locally for some reason. At that moment, I realize I have my cell phone from home. I open it and it has bars. I have no idea what it will cost to call from it, but I dial and get through to our hotel where I’ve clearly woken the night watch. I explain our predicament in broken English and he says we can come at 7:30. Julie hears this from me: “How about 6:30? How about 5:30? How about now?” I kindly refuse to take no for an answer and the exhausted night watch eventually says, “ok, come now.” Julie gets to work convincing a tuk tuk driver to take us for 20,000 kip (roughly $1US) and $2US which is basically all the cash we have. She too, is successful. Finally we make it to our hotel and collapse into our beds after quick showers.
Lesson 5: Bring your sense of humor & resourcefulness & expect the unexpected whenever you take a tourist bus on a 20+ hour border crossing!
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