All ads for long-distance trains in Vietnam (particularly Hanoi-Lao Cai/Sapa) show photos of a glistening, white rail rocket reminiscent of a TGV or ICE. We were a bit surprised that, given the ramshackle state of the few trains that crossed our path so far, Vietnam would have such modern transport infrastructure, but why not?
Why not, alas…as it turns out, the Americans not only destroyed all North Vietnamese rolling stock during their many air raids in the war, but also bombed every single centimeter of railway in the country. As a result, I think our train consisted of bolted-together Soviet shipping containers, dragged across naked railroad ties by a particularly loud bulldozers. I don’t believe the car had wheels.
At least, that’s what it felt like. The cabin was nice enough, as was the friendly service, with an attendant who brought us tea, rubber slippers, and plentiful advice to always always keep the damn door locked (notwithstanding the fact that, had I bothered to bring my Leatherman, I could have opened it in about 3 seconds from the outside.) All good, aside from the porter desperately trying to extract more tips from us, thought we’d paid for that in advance? Lesson learned, alas — but trying to sleep on the sheet-clad plyboard slabs used as mattresses, while someone did their best impression of a bunch of military tanks smashing into each other (and us) all night, was a challenge at best. The experience was reminiscent of the obnoxious freight cars in Thomas the Tank Engine books; bumpy, jerky, and like riding an enormous children’s see-saw (at high speeds, at that). I never imagined that a train car could whip about like this, it has to be experienced to be believed.
Arrive, however, we did, and that’s what counts. At 05:00, though, running the gamut of surprisingly un-pesky transportation touts for Sapa and surroundings, was taxing, waiting for our driver while the last passengers of our bus arrived on a separate train (and a warm bed beckoned somewhere in the mountains beyond Lao Cai) even more so. But we made it, after an hour and a half of increasingly bumpy, curvy drive among the usual armada of insane motorcyclists (except here, half of them wear traditional Hmong/Red Dao/whatever garb), plus women carrying babies, water buffalo, pigs, mountain waterfalls that washed away half the road, Laos-sized potholes, and absolutely spectacular vistas. For the first time since we set foot in the country, the sun came out, giving us views of beautiful hill scenery, with valleys still shrouded in mist.
