If we had realised what a fun place Sihnoukville was going to be we would probably booked our bus for the next day or so, but....... we had tickets now plus a hangover, so it was time to leave.
We should also possibly have thought about the length of our trip that day before we had sunk the fourth bucket – 3 hours to Phom Phen, 6 hours to Saigon with an hour at the border!
My heart wasn't in it and the few photos I took were out of the coach window as we travelled along. Sleep quickly overcame me. Kris had closed his eyes before the bus had even left the depot but by the time we reached the city I was recovered and feeling great. It was then that we realised we had spent all our Lire the night before and had a grand total of about 30p between us. The border was only 3 hours away so changing money was a waste of time. I bought two bread rolls from a passing seller and opened the travel sweets. Bottled water was provided on the bus anyway and so we ate our unusual lunch.
The second part of the journey was much more interesting – well I was awake now. The hills had given way to vast planes filled with rice and irrigation channels. Small collections of houses stood together on stilts, water buffalo waded in pools and vast ponds of water-lilies lined the road.
The further we travelled the flatter the country seemed to became, if it was at all possible to flatten it out any more. You could see for miles and miles, field after field of rice stretched out to the horizon, interspersed with the odd tree or house.
We stopped just short of the border for a break. Our bus man collected our passports and the completed immigration forms ready for the crossing. At the border itself we were asked to step off the bus,leaving our belongings on-board. We quietly filed off and stood by the bus only to get back on seconds later as our passports names were called. We drove 100m along the road, crossing out of Cambodia and up to the Vietnamese gate. We all got off the bus again but this time with our bags. We walked into a large hall and as our names were called from our passports, yet again in the hands of an official looking man, we passed through the turnstile, walked along the corridor, stepping out at the far end to get back on the bus. The whole thing took an hour as there were so many of us but it was a good enough reason to stretch the legs and talk with our fellow passengers.
We were now in Vietnam and yet another plan began to form in Kris's head. Was there anything I wanted to see in Saigon? It was another city as far as I could tell and unless he knew of something that would interest me I didn't really mind staying there or not. He phoned a friend. The night bus to Nha Trang left at 7.45. If we got in on time we would be able to catch it and arrive in Nha Trang by the next morning! This was really turning out to be an epic journey!
The rest of the journey toward Saigon passed pleasantly enough, we were making good time and the views were entertaining as we neared the city.
When we hit the outskirts of the city, however madness issued forth onto the roads. Five lanes wide, with traffic moving in both directions on both sides of the street! Lorries and buses jostled for space while mopeds and bikes wove their ways in and out. Ladies in beautiful dresses, children perched in the foot wells, cargoes of all descriptions rode the roads. Yet amongst this seeming chaos everyone was polite. Bikes stopped in the middle of the road to allow others to change direction. Cars slid from lane to lane edging bikes out of the way and then releasing the space to then again. I watched in fascination as the city lights and huge screens illuminated the ever moving, ever changing scene out side the window. We moved now at a crawl. The road pulsed with engines, traffic lights counted down the seconds at junctions and Kris looked at the time. 7.30 and we showed no sign of nearing the main station, not that I knew where it was nor where we were in relation to it! 7.45 came and went as we edged our way through the streets of the city. Roads became alleys which opened up into roads again. And I thought London was bad!!!Kris had given up on the idea of the night bus by now and was wondering which area of the city would be the easiest to get a room in. I was still mesmerised by the throbbing world below me and didn't realise we were nearing the end of our journey until Kris called out “That's the night bus!”as we passed a long row of buses. We pulled into the side of the road and while everyone slowly disgorged themselves onto the street to begin the great bag search from the hold ,Kris and I raced down the row of buses searching for the one he had seen on the way in.
We excitedly asked if there was room left on the bus, there was! Did we have tickets we were asked, No. The driver pointed across the road to the ticket office! I looked at the traffic! I have crossed roads in India but this was better than anything I had ever seen there, yet we had to cross. Kris started to move, I rapidly put my hand on his shoulder and walked with him. If we were going to die we would do it together.
Miraculously people wove their way around us. The principle, as Kris pointed out, was to keep moving, if you stop or slow down you confuse the hell out of everyone. Keep moving and they simply gauge which side of you they should weave to. Tickets in hand we re-crossed the road, with my hand still on his shoulder. I may know the principle but the practice was another matter.
Night buses should be world wide! What a civilised way to travel. Shoes are removed and placed in a bag as you enter the bus and step up onto the rich carpet. Three rows of bunk beds run the length of the bus, head to toe five bunks long. A pillow and blanket awaited as we climbed up onto our bunks. I got the window seat while Kris took the middle aisle and started chatting to the Canadian man on his other side. He was going up to Nha Trang to do some diving and politely took our photo once I explained this was all new to me. Leaving Kris and him to discuss the fundamentals of the various dive sites, I settled for the evening. This was now our third bus of the day but this one had BEDS!
We had travelled from one side of Cambodia to the other, crossed the border and by morning would be half way up the coast of Vietnam. Over 20 hours of road travel in 1 day, having had just 3 hours of sleep the night before! I was a glutton for punishment but by morning my travels would be over and I could rest in Nha Trang. We had transversed three countries in 6 days (and we hadn't moved for the first two of those).
I barely managed to stay awake until the first loo stop – the Vietnamese TV station playing at the front of the bus for our 'entertainment' had helped. Kris stocked up on some Pringles and sweets, I had a quick wash and freshen up and we returned to the now quiet bus. The lights were turned down, people arranged their blankets and a huge argument erupted between the driver and the passenger positioned below my bunk. Lots of shouting filled the air, the lights came back on. Driver and customer faced each other, arms raised, each talking over the other. As the driver turned to walk back down the bus, the customer launched himself at his retreating back. People in the top bunks further down grabbed at him pulling him off. More shouting, more arm waving, others joined in, the whole bus was alive with shouts and then as quickly as it had started it was over, everyone was back in their bunks and we were on our way. Kris muttered something about 'Welcome to Asia' and I was asleep.
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