 |
| Overnight train to Hanoi pulls into Danang Train Station |
Russia has the Trans-Siberian Railway. Europe has the Orient Express. And Vietnam? They have the
Reunification Express, and it’s my ticket to the north.
There is just something about train
travel. It’s romantic really. There’s the anticipation everyone feels as they
wait in the station. The train pulls in, horns blaring. Departing passengers
pull luggage across the platform. Relatives have emotional goodbyes. Everyone
loads up, climbing stairs into passenger cars. Everyone searches for their
berth, and settles into a comfortable room. The locomotive whistles, the train
lurches, and you’re on your way. I see all these steps as I begin my journey on
the overnight train.
“Hey you,” says a brusque Vietnamese
passenger. “Where you go? Hue?”
 |
| Vietnamese passengers say their goodbyes, and board the train |
I’ve begun my trip by boarding the train in the coastal city of Danang. We stop in Hue before continuing north, across the old
DeMilitarised Zone. There are later stops in Dong Hoi and Vinh, but I’m hoping I’ll be asleep
by then. After a 14 hour journey, I should arrive in Hanoi in the early morning.
As the train slowly rolls out of
Danang, I peer out the window, and see the Vietnamese version of a railroad
crossing. They don’t have automatic crossing gates, here they use sliding red
and white fences, which are pulled across manually by railway staff. At first,
I just think this is an easy way to keep some government workers employed, as
crossing guards. But then I recall the recklessness of Vietnamese motorbike
drivers. This is probably a much safer way to keep them off of the tracks.
Our train has 13 passenger cars, plus
the locomotive. As I’m settling into my room, I kick away a small roach as it’s
about to take shelter in my luggage. Well, I wasn’t expecting first class
accomodation. My room is a soft sleeper, meaning it
has four beds. This is the best they have on the train, and it cost me all of
25 dollars. Most Vietnamese passengers are packed into the cheaper, hard
sleeper rooms, meaning they have six beds packed in together.
The room’s interior has light blue
walls, with bright red bunk beds. Thankfully, there’s air conditioning. The
best part of all: there's a large window with a great view of the passing countryside. As we rumble along north of Danang, the scenery becomes stunning.
 |
| Our train chugs up the coast, giving us fantastic views of the South China Sea |
It’s a good day for a train trip, the
weather is clear and the train is on time. Soon we're up in the mountains;
beyond I can see all the way down to the South
China Sea coast. The slopes below us are blanketed with green foliage.
For this stretch of the journey, I see no signs of civilization. There
are only mountains, deserted beach, and the vast ocean. Far below, ocean waves wash over a
platform of solid rock. As each wave crashes across the bedrock, it leaves a
long blanket of white water behind. As I watch the surf, I’m instantly
enveloped in darkness; we’ve entered a tunnel. There are a few tunnels along
this section, as we make our way towards the Hai Van pass, which means ‘Pass of
the Clouds’.
This railway was first built by the
French way back in the 19th century during the colonial era. As we head
through the mountains, we pass an old abandoned French Army outpost, built to
protect the short railroad trestle we're on. Back during the war years, the
railroad was attacked and vandalized often by the various nationalist and
communist groups. Trains were derailed numerous times.
But those days are gone now, and the
trains have run peacefully for years. Continuing along the coast, railway staff
bring around a snack cart, with coffee, soft drinks and beer. They also hand
out a dinner menu. I order chicken and white rice, which arrives later in a
styrofoam container. Even with the soy sauce provided, it’s pretty bland. I don’t know it yet, but I’ll be surprised with a far better dinner later
on.
 |
| Abandoned military post once protected the railway |
As my room has four beds, there are
two other Vietnamese men sharing it with me. One is fashionably dressed, and is
assigned to the bunk above me. He climbs on up, and soon is snoring quietly. The other portly passenger sits on the
bunk across from me. He speaks a fair amount of English, and I discover that he
works for the Vietnamese Railway I'm now riding. I’m fortunate to have a
roommate who can tell me more about the Reunification Express, at least as far
as what a government employee is allowed to tell a foreigner.
After a couple hours, we pull into the
old capital of Hue.
This was the end of the line back during the war years, since communist
sabotage kept the trains from going any further north. Back in those days, the
locomotives didn’t run in front. The engineers would push a flat car out in
front of the locomotive, in order to trip mines or booby traps that may have been laid on the tracks.
As the train departs Hue, we are joined in our little cabin by an
Australian. He’s a former finance man who just finished working in London. The Aussie
decided to tour Vietnam
on his way home.
As often happens on trains, I am
quickly chatting away with my new cabin mates. It’s one of those times when the
talk flows freely, and after a while I realize that nobody has gotten around to
introducing themselves. Nobody knows anyone else’s name, but that doesn’t
really matter. We're enjoying each other’s company, knowing that after
arrival, we probably won’t see each other again. We joke and chat, pausing to
admire the scenery out the window. All the while the train rumbles along, and
time happily passes by.
 |
| The train's rather spartan bathroom facilities |
Later I step out in the passageway for
a look around, and I find that our toilets are rather spartan. They are the
basic squatty-potty style which is so common in Asia. When the toilet is flushed, it seems to empty right out
onto the train tracks below.
On my way back, I spot the neighbors.
To one side are two rooms inhabited by a group of 50 somethings from New Zealand.
They have water on the floor of one room, so they've all crowded
into their second room next to ours. They are already having drinks. Our other
neighbors are a couple of Russians, and a woman from Switzerland. They are a good deal
quieter, since the Kiwis are making enough noise for everybody.
Stepping back in my room, the Aussie
and I start questioning our Vietnamese rail expert, the Train Man. He’s worked repairing
the rails for many years. He says the train’s top
speed is 90 km per hour, but operationally it only goes about 70.
 |
| Old bomb craters are next to the train tracks near the old DeMilitarized Zone |
He boasts to us that Japan is going to help Vietnam build a
new high speed railway, and laughingly says that it will take about 20 years. With
the slow pace of government projects in Vietnam, it may take even longer
than that.
As the miles go by, and conversation
drifts off, I start listening to the sound of the train itself. The rhythm and
movements change as we chug along. The sounds below shift from a clackety-clack, to a whooshing
noise, and then rises and lowers in pitch. If I listen to it for a while, it’s
rather hypnotic. The train goes from a bumpy ride, to swaying from side to side, but its comfortable enough.
Leaving the mountains, we gradually
descend down to the coast. Our picture window is filled with palm trees, and
fishing villages with wooden boats. The skies darken, and rain starts. It
occurs to me that
 |
| A 'hard sleeper' berth |
since I’m not in a car or bus, I don’t have to worry about
slick roads on this trip. As we approach the old DMZ, I see
perfectly round little ponds, that are close to the train tracks. These are old
bomb craters from the American war years, that later filled with water.
As we continue, Train Man tells us more
about his past. He’s from a small village in Vietnam. He was a young teenager
when the US war ended, so he didn’t have to fight in that conflict. However,
he did have to fight in the next war, in Cambodia. He served with the
Vietnamese Army there from 1981 – 1985, fighting the Khmer Rouge. He didn’t
like it there at all.
“I went over there with five friends,”
he told me. “Two came back.”
Train man tells us more about the
railway. After the American war finished in 1975, the north – south line was quickly repaired, and
reopened in 1976. Given the enormous amount of destruction to the rail lines,
that was a major accomplishment. Back then, the trains were far slower than
they are now. When the full line started running again, it took 56 hours to
travel from Saigon to Hanoi.
Today, it’s down to 30 hours for the same trip.
Our other Vietnamese cabin mate doesn’t
speak English, so Train Man translates for him. “He in Vietnam People’s Army.
He along the Lao border. He General.”
 |
| Dinner fit for a king: a whole chicken, and vodka (served from a plastic bottle!) |
He doesn’t quite look like a general to
me though. He’s wearing civilian clothes, and appears to be in his low 40’s,
which seems rather young for a general. Perhaps Train Man didn’t translate
correctly. Still, he’s very well dressed. He must be an officer.
We arrive in Dong Hoi station, and
Train Man disappears for a few minutes. He returns with a whole cooked chicken,
and a bottle of Vietnamese vodka. He announces he’s going to share it with all
of his cabin mates. What a perfect time for Vietnamese hospitality.
A small pop-up table is lifted between
the bunkbeds, and a newspaper becomes our tablecloth. We don’t need a dining
car tonight. As the kilometers pass by, the chicken is devoured by all, and the
bottle of vodka is gradually emptied. It soon becomes apparent that the General
has a low tolerance for
 |
| A stroll through the carriages, before bed |
alcohol. He’s gone from being quiet, to a
laughing machine.
The conversation shifts from the basic,
to the bizarre. The Aussie asks Train Man, “Have you ever eaten dog?”
“Yes,” Train Man answers.
“You like eating dog?” he continues.
“Yes,” Train Man answers again.
“I would like to try eating dog,” the
Aussie announces. I don’t mind trying new foods, but the thought of eating dog
meat will never appeal to me.
I take a final walk between cars to
stretch my legs, and return to the room as the night winds down. Before
long, I kick off my shoes, and get ready for bed. Train Man is already
stretched out, and the tipsy General is in his bunk above me. Unfolding my
blanket, I lay down to sleep. Outside our window in the night, dark
silhouettes of trees are flowing by.
I can hear the Kiwis still laughing next door. They’ll be partying for a while yet tonight. The
Russians and the Swiss on the other side are silent. The sound of the train has
changed now to a low, rolling rumble.
It’s been a great trip. I haven’t had
many folks to chat with the past few days, so I’ve enjoyed the
diverse company. The conditions aren’t world class, but I wasn’t expecting them
to be. I would rather be here than in a five star hotel. I’ve shared the night
with a group of new and interesting people, having a great time as the miles
went by.
I’m feeling content. Sleep reaches me.
