Travel Story «Journey from Nam to Laos - Undertake at own Risk!»

Lao | 0 Comments 06 April 2006 - Last Update 01 June 2006

This is a harrowing tale of escape from one communist nation to another, of families torn apart, friend thrown against friend more profoundly this is actually a tale about backache, sleep deprivation and the inability of some morons to pay heed to a non-smoking sign! (I can still smell the smoke).

We'd been warned, it's not like we hadn't heard the stories, the rumours. It's just that until you experience it yourself you can't possibly fathom such a nightmare, nevertheless the story must be told, the truth needs to be exposed and I, Grainne Crowley, must be the Cork Woman (Coracigh Abu) to tell it.

Our limited experience had taught us one thing (and actually from the number of war/spy movies I'd seen you'd think I would have realised this earlier) the minute you arrive in a new location figure out how to leave and make your plans around this. So almost immeadiatley after arriving in Hanoi we set about finding how to get to Laos. 

Now some of you reading this may not know Lorna all that well, but most of you probably will, and I though I knew how tenacious she could be, but I was sooooooo naive. We must have gone to every tour operator in the old quarter of Hanoi, with Lorna Stuart Trainor leading the way, looking for the best possible deal, and in the grand old tradition of backpackers we ended up going back to the first place we'd gone to book the trip. However this was the first time we'd really felt that we knew we'd gotten the best bargain and Lorna has actually turned out to be something of a travel savant because it was on her insistance that we got the most marvellus bus ever from Cambodia to Vietnam (with the hostess, the border assistance and the breakfast. Well done Lorna, all transport should be this good ).

Essentially though this was what we knew, we would be collected from the travel agent/hotel and be taken to our bus (coach they called it, hyperbole/lying whatever you want to call it yourself, but it was NOT a coach) and then we would drive to Vientiane. The stories we'd heard (mainly from the Ryan the Cu Chi Tunnel Irishman) said that the trip was a notorious nightmare and generally took 24 hours but had been known to take 30hours. The Liars/Travel Agents in Hanoi told us 15 hours but we have adopted a new approach for dealing with the service industry when travelling which I personally like to think of as the X-Files approach, TRUST NO-ONE and under interrogation/gentle probing/scoffing they admitted 15 hours was actually 22 hours.

So we left Hanoi on the bus having met a lovely german girl, said goodbye to her and then embarassingly noting that we were going to be on the same bus as her until vinh where we would be changing bus for Laos. However we'd already said goodbye and it would have been impractial to speak with her again (because we'd only have to repeat the goodbye again) so we sat at the back of the bus (in the cool seats) and behind the four greatest idiots Laos/Vietnam had ever produced.

Oh and I know know why the cool kids at the back of the bus are always in bad form or have the bad attitudes it's becuase these are the most uncomfortable seats ever. The back seats are not actually attached to the frame of the bus itself so they jump around like pogo sticks, also you can see the road perfectly and are therefore fully aware that the driver is obeying none of the rules of the road in any civilsed country and is probably driving for the first time as well as the fact that you are constantly fighing with eejit boys/donkeys in front of you for control of YOUR OWN ac unit. Also the seat in front of Emily was broken so it could not sit upright and consequently she had one of the Laotian/Vietnamese plebs bascially sleeping in her lap until we arrived in Vinh.

This bus journey also highlighted two further byproducts of travelling, A) the using of all horrible material for dramatic effect in e-mails/letters/postcards/blogs and B) the resentment and separation of those who can sleep anywhere (Grainne and Emily) and those who cannot (The Ace/Aisling and Lorna).

The most ironic thing of all was that we were looking forward to getting the bus at Vinh because our seats had been so horrible. However the vehicle which we transferred to (I refuse to call it a bus because I don't believe for one minute it would be classified as such in any backwater on this planet at least) was horrible as were our new seats. The vehicle was only half bedecked with seats the bottom half of the vehicle was filled with cardboard boxes, backpacks, electrical equipment and strageically positioned mattresses for the driver/pilot. All the seats were covered in some green fabric which was so horrible smelling/looking/feeling I thought about maybe changing our national flag to Red (like Cork) for a brief moment of madness. There was also a shrine on the dashboard obscuring the view for the driver although the flowers were very pretty (I was searching with great difficulty for a positive at this point, oh 1AM as  failed to mention). Most of the other passengers were in a better position because they had seats to themselves but we had no option but to sit together. Also due to the cargo facilities at the hell end of the vehicle (where we sat) the seats had even less leg room that usual and even I (Shortest member of the team) was feeling the cramped conditions. The most infuriating thing for me was that the driver/translator/idiot who seemed to be running the show (with great difficulty and very little charm) was smoking like a train (which you cannot get from Hanoi to Vientiane incidentally) while leaning againt the international symbol for NO SMOKING, grrrrrr. Also Emily was much infuriated because the Four Laotian/Vietnamese dudes she'd been exchanging dirty looks with on the first bus (because of the AC indiscretion perpetrated by them) were also on the same vehicle which looked at this point like it was probably taking us the fun way to hell. On the upside the Air Conditioning was working quite well.

After this probably due to the shock/cigarette fumes/ barely disgused rage I fell asleep. The girls (Lorna and Aisling) were impressed with the drivers level of skill even though the roads were horrible windy in the mountains and the fog was particularly dense. At 4.30AM the vehicle stopped at the side of a mountain (we thought, but couldn't be sure because it was pitch black) and the drivers came down the back for a nap, I was enraged and despite my attempts to get a conversation going so nobody would get any sleep and despite the fact that one of the gentlemen on the vehicle had a snorning seizure that sounded like somebody trying to whisk cement, glass and symbals with a pneumatic drill, I feel asleep again soon after Aisling drew attention to noises outside be made by what she was sure were wild beasts baying for Irish blood. Aisling and Lorna did not sleep again but did venture outside at first light to take photograph evidence of the braking/parkingsystem of the vehicle (a rock behind the back wheel) and noted that we were actually at the border crossing and had arrived 2 and half hours early as this didn't open til 7AM. 

Everything went relativley smoothly after we passed though the border from Vietnam and though we thought we would get back on our bus to get to the Laotian border control repeated screams of "Go, Go, Stamp, Stamp. Hurry!!!!" and motions of fists being banged against palms as well as frantic pointing from the Charmer/driver/Chain smoking diplomat assured us that we were to walk to our next port of call. This was a charming little slice of heaven with no signs that made sense in the dialect of english I know and no electricity. However although queueing is foreign concept here we got through without much fuss and without having to pay the bribe we had to pay to get out of Vietnam.

The rest of the journey while slow was pleasant and a reminder of how small the hills, we think of as mountains at home, actually are. Occasionally the bus would stop on the way for toliet breaks (the side of the road masquerading as a restroom) but the scenery was spectacular and a reminder of just how far away from home we really are.

In the end of it all we arrived in Vientiane 19hours after we left Hanoi and the general concensus was that the trip had not been as bad as anticipated.

So there you go and they all lived happily for the forseeable future.
Grainne