Train seemed the best option for our big move north, it was the cheapest, most convenient was to travel. In total it cost us about 3 million dong for our luggage and 2 first class tickets. That probably equates to about $A200. Train travel seemed to have lots of things going for it. We could take our large volume of luggage, the motorbike could be transported with ease, the view promised to be spectacular and, after a few harrowing weeks of preparation, the time should be relaxing. While we delighted in the thought of the gentle movement of the train lulling us to sleep, I was extremely cautious about the conveniences. And my concerns were well founded. Squat toilet.... on a moving train.... a 30 hour journey.... about 30 people, plus staff, I will leave the rest to your imagination. There was a western style toilet as well, but for some reason that was locked for half the journey. I didn't eat or drink much.
Our cabin was really quite reasonable. Luckily we had the four berth to ourselves for all but about 4 hour of the trip, so we could spread out. The cabin was air-conditioned and the large window gave us a good view of the countryside as it rolled by. The scenery didn't let us down although the coastal stretch was hindered by light rain and photos hard to get without power lines strung across the middle. We were lucky, we had reasonable comfort, an cool cabin and soft bed. Standards dropped away with ticket price, down to a hard sleeper which was a plank bed, next a soft seat, then a hard seat. So we had nothing to complain about.
The countryside was so green, paddy fields a vibrant colour dotted with workers bent over intent on task. Water buffalo stood there as though placed to make the scene more authentic. There was a lot of water around, flooding from recent rains as well as that which had been chanelled for the rice crop. Narrow dirt paths led from one hut to another and children could be seen bicycling home from school at midday. The yards in front of the houses were concrete and grains would be spread out to dry in the sun. Chickens would peck around and an old women could be seen squatting, a scalf wrapped around her head. Children were held up to watch the train go by and encouraged to wave. Washing was hung, poked into the cyclone wire fence to catch the breeze. It all looked like a simple life, but a hard one. Water carried in a bucket from the huge ceramic pot at the side of the house, washing done while squatting at a large plastic bowl on the ground.
We moved past it all, countryside giving way to cities. In some places, it was as though tunnels had been left between the houses for the train to pass, walls so close to the track you could almost touch them. There was a feeling of intrusion through open windows into someones world. At the station the train would stop for no longer that half an hour. Stalls set up along the station had things to tempt, either foods or trinkets to remind you of the trip. All hoping to catch a few tourist dollars. We rolled on, cities giving way to countryside, day turning to night and that gentle rocking motion to put us to sleep.
Before the sun was up, there was a knock on the door and we were on the doorstep of Hanoi. The train slowed and crept into the centre of the city, quiet so as not to wake anyone. But lights were on, people already in the streets as Hanoi started another day. Manually operated boomgates held the motorbikes back from the track as we went through the crossings. Eventually we were there. Evereyone scurried for the doors, keen to be out of the confined spaces. We ferried our belongings off the train and onto a trolley waiting on the platform. Down the steps of the train and onto another stage of our adventure here in Vietnam.
