Trains, Dogs, Rabies and Suits

I'm talking about Hoi An and the adventure there.

So the train trip began. After minding richies bag in the station for 45 mins, while he ducked off to find a 'lighter' for his dirty habit that he promised to be rid of by new years day, i needed to toilet. I lug the 4 bags over my back like a possessed sherpa and find richie, no doubt, talking to a belgian girl about more than how wonderful their country's chocolates are. Toilet happened and we got on the train.

We departed at about 11pm for Hue, the old capital of vietnam. We were due to arrive at approx 10 am so invested in a hard sleeper for the pleasant evening. We shared the cabin with 2 old viet men and 2 younger women who we mistake for their wives, as i would later learn. OK now i respect if people think my feet are dirty. I certainly respect this when sleeping in the linen of a guest. I even respect people's wishes for my to cover up my feet with socks. But when 2 cabin loads of vietnamese civilians point, jeer, mock and demand that i scrub my feet before climbing into the bed, I begin to understand the concept of communism. I wash my feet (granted they were black) and head for the cabin. The same mob inspect and after dutiful discussion, let me in the bed. So I lay there, pretty exhausted and ready for sleep. Before the zzzzs rich and i have a bit of a discussion with the locals on the train. This is always heaps of fun and they were cheery and interested old folks. I take a few sips of the aviation fuel they call vodka hanoi and head for pillow. Before I can do this the old men reach up, grab my arms and plunge them forth towards the woman's breast below. I recoil with all my strength as they offer me the lady for the evening. As much as joining the mile high equivalent for a train is appealing, this was not the time, place or person for such frivolities. I slept.

We woke and got off the long journey. We said goodbye to Liza, the Belgian girl who runs vietnamese tours for rich belgians, and stepped out onto a platform covered in rain, stalls and hawkers. Richie got off first and they jumped. At least 15 locals grabbing at every grabbable object on his person trying to win his attention and hopefully, his money. I got away and was able to watch with amusement at the site - karma does occur, believe it or not. So scurrying from the pouring rain to the bus shelter - followed by two dudes essentially offering the same thing ($6 room, good price for you my friend, in middle of town, very nice room, i show you if you like etc) who evidently were fended of us by a bohemeth of an armed guard. In the bus shelter we found our old friends steve and leslie, from ireland. These rockers arrived in hue only to book a bus to Hoi An an hour later after it had rained relentlessly for duration. After much deliberation, we decided to do the same. Off we wandered to the cafe of MR Pho.

Mr Pho is the nicest man i met in vietnam. He was was the first person i had met who did not care about commissions and what he could get out of the tourist. He loves his country and is proud of it! We love Mr Pho. Mr Pho, get this, told us not to stay in the hotel his company was linked to as it was too expensive!! WTF!! never would we expect selflessness! Good by you Mr Pho.