Day 85 – Hue, Vietnam – 10:04 PM

On Tuesday night, I boarded an overnight train from Ninh Binh to Hue, Vietnam.  The day prior, I bicycled to the Ninh Binh train station from the nearby village of Tam Coc to purchase a ticket on the following nights southbound train. My intention was to reserve a bunk in a four-person sleeper cabin.  However, the receptionist informed me in broken english that the only bunks remaining were in six-person cabins.  I handed over the equivalent of $11.25 USD in Vietnamese Dong.  The receptionist slid a ticket under the glass partition and instructed me to arrive at 9 PM for a 945 departure.

As the hour of departure approached the number of butterflies in my stomach increased.  This feeling plagued me before my first bus journeys in Australia, New Zealand and Vietnam.  I always feel slight trepidation about finding a seat and stowing my bags for the duration of the journey.  My nerves are quickly settled once I find a seat and store my luggage.

At 940 PM the buzz emanating from the intercom speakers was interrupted with the arrival announcement of Train SE1 from Hanoi.  I hauled one bag onto my back, slung the other across my chest and stepped through the glass doors.  As I proceeded to the platform, I turned to a station employee to ensure I was walking towards the correct train.  She glanced at my ticket, nodded her head and motioned where to stand on the platform to enter Coach 8.  My assigned bunk was #2 of Coach 8.  Moments later three bright headlights came into view and slowly approached.  Eventually the coach came to a halt and outstepped a handful of train attendants.

Out of a centuries old story or film, each attendant held a dim lantern to examine tickets of boarding passengers.  I handed over my ticket and was granted access.  I stepped onto Coach 8 and turned right.  The corridor I proceeded down was barely wide enough to accommodate my bags as I searched for an indication of bunk numbers.  I decided to stand in the corridor until an employee appeared to point me in the right direction.  It turned out I was standing in front of the door that led to bunks #1 – 6.  He slid the door open and I peered inside.

At first glance I only saw four bunks.  The attendant picked up on my reaction and pointed to the ceiling of the cabin. There, only 18 inches from the ceiling, was an open bunk.  My bunk.  I glanced at each bunk to ensure there was not another option and the eyes of local Vietnamese citizens stared back in amazement.  I smiled and threw both bags on my bunk.  I then provided quite the spectacle as I attempted to climb up two occupied bunks and squeeze my 6 foot frame into my bunk.  I repeatedly bumped my head against the ceiling while shifting both my body and belongings. I eventually stored my bags in a cutout below the ceiling.  As this circus act took place, one of my cabin mates stepped out of her bunk and into the hallway of the coach.  She returned moments later with a pillow and a blanket.  She offered them to me with a smile and I graciously accepted.  I spread out the blanket and rested my head on the pillow.  It was not long until I drifted off to sleep as the train continued rumbling down the tracks.

Around 3:30 AM, three of my coach mates exited the train.  I awoke during this process and hoped no new passengers would embark on the trip south.  I breathed a sigh of relief as the doors closed and we pulled away from the station.  That left three of us in the cabin.  Approximately one hour later, the onboard speakers crackled to life and announced the approaching station.  My remaining coach mates rose from their bunks and gathered their belongings.  Moments later they exited the train and I was the lone passenger remaining in my 6-person cabin.  I quickly sprang from my bunk and shimmied down to ground level.  I exchanged the linens on a bottom bunk with mine from the top and laid down to enjoy the final three hours in quiet solitude.  As I drifted back to sleep, Train SE1 barreled southbound decreasing the number of miles between myself and Hue, my ultimate destination.