A Night Train to Hoi An

After a few days in Saigon, late at night we boarded a train. The platform reminded me of something from a 1920s American movie. Compared to Japan, the train system is prehistoric. But we did it for the experience. Inside our six person hard sleeper car we slowly made our way from Saigon to Da Nang. In the morning we woke up and I walked the length of the train. I had some iced coffee when my one of my traveling companions warns me about having ice in third world countries. By this time I decided I gave up, and just finished my drink. Hoping either the ice was filtered or that my body learned to deal with third world bacteria. Turns out I was fine.

The train platform in Da Nang

Upon entering our sleeper car we had 3 new traveling companions, a young woman, her child and the young woman’s mother. The young woman could speak English so we chatted a little about Vietnam, but nothing in particular. A few hours later we arrived in Da Nang and grabbed a taxi to Hoi An.


Street view of Hoi An French/Asian fusion

Hoi An is a small town in the center of Vietnam facing the coast. Considering it’s size, it is a huge tourist destination. Mainly because of its well preserved French inspired buildings and renowned tailors. Although I didn’t get a suit, I had some shoes made and possibly ate more French food than Vietnamese food. Overall it was a place for shopping and looking at buildings. But it was nice to finally be in a quieter part of Vietnam. It also helped renting motor bikes and leaving the city and getting into the rice paddy.



My bike and the sea


Just outside of Hoi An proper

Dusty and I were standing looking out at an expanse of rice paddies when an older Vietnamese man approaches us and says, “Lost?” At first I didn’t understand, so he repeats it once or twice more. I then shake my head no and point to the rice fields and say, “No, just looking.” He then proceeds to squat down with a smile, pull out a cigarette and stares at us. I ask him, “Yours?” as I point to the fields. He nods his head yes. When Dusty and I decided it was time to go, he covers his eyes with his hands, how a father covers his eyes when he plays peek-a-boo with a baby. “Hotel?” he says. Again he repeats it once or twice. I say, “We have,” and smile. As we wave goodbye he remains squatting smoking a cigarette.

It was here I realized, it would be possible to get lost in the culture of Vietnam but one would first have to throw away the lonely planet guide and avoid many of the places people talk about in Vietnam to get there. Vietnam is a skinny country, and to find something real is a real pain in the ass.


The smiling man's fields

Lazily spending my days in Hoi An I was sad to leave, but excited to finally see the Vietnamese capital. I left Hoi An in a t-shirt and arrived in Hanoi freezing.