"The bus has forgotten me hasn't it" I said to the reception desk lady of La Suisse Hotel.  "Bus??" she said with her head tilted to one side and a puzzled look on her face.  I gently lowered my head to my hands and whispered "for the love of god".

A couple of garbled and frantic telephone messages and 45 minutes later a man shows up at the hotel and ushered me to get on his motorbike.  Before I could protest he'd picked up my 20 kilo pack and proped it on the front of the bike, I put on my 5 kilo (at least) day pack, rolled up my trousers and clambered on behind him.  Not knowing whether or not to hold his fleshy love handles (eeuuwww) or the seat, I opted for the seat.  With the weight of an elephant on the bike we set off.  After about....uummmm.....2 seconds....we joined the rest of the Vietnamese population on their mopeds at which point I admit to closing my eyes.

10 minutes later we caught up with the bus!  I was hurried on and my pack was slung god knows where.  The bus was full apart from the back seat so I made my way back and settled in, quickly realising that not only was the back seat placed right above the engine, the aircon blew out fumey warm air and there were 2 sweaty stained pillows to my right.  This seat was reserved for the co-bus driver to sleep (or something) as they took it in turns to drive throughout the night.

Just a few minutes into the trip, the lights were turned off and the co-driver approached me.  He grunted at me as he belted me on the leg and aggressivley ushered me to move.  At which point I felt myself get very defensive.  I sat up and said loudly and assertively "you want me to move you do? just where you would like me to move to
exaclty?  look, I will move my bag and you can have a whole 4 seats to yourself and I'll stay in this one".

He grunted again as I gave him my glare stare and then lollopped onto the seats next to me.  The following  6 hours were spent with me holding my hangbag tight in my lap and tensing my legs inorder that I did not disturb his sleep.  He spent the next 6 hours either rubbing my leg with this filthy feet or kicking me.  I know he was getting off on it, whatever was happening.

At this point the heavens opened and we drove "SPEED" styley through the twisting roads in lashing rain and a fabulous electrical storm.  The bus began to rain inside as the leaks showed and water and muck ran down the centre of the bus.

Approx 6 hours in we were allowed off for 10 minutes to take turns to wee in a bucket.  I had dehydrated myself for 6 hour prior to departure as I knew there was a risk of little stops so at this point I was feeling pretty ropey.  In actual fact the ride took a total of 14 hours and we had one 10 minute stop.  During the rest of the trip I concentrated on my stinging eyes and burning feet
(because the floor was so hot and close to the engine) and counted down the hours.  That night I vowed to myself that unless it's an intercity bus with a lav and a TV I'm NEVER EVER getting an over night bus again, EVER.

Then the '5am horn began' and this is not the '5am horn I expect some of you are used to'! :-)  This is where the driver beeps at anyone he sees, could be a chld on a bike, a moped carrying pigs in cages or leather sofa's....whatever it may be, it deserves a beep!!

I arrived at the hotel and it looked OK, I just needed water and sleep, it was 6 pounds so I didn't sweat the details, I was just desperate for a drink.  I knew by now that I wouldn't be staying in Hoi An very long because the recent typhoon had wrecked the place. It was trashed, chaos, muck and filth remains with little electricity and air con and crazy disrupted transport systems.  I wanted to get out as soon as I arrived.  I booked a flight to Hanoi for the following day (as that would have been another 2 overnight buses and there aint a cats chance in hell I'm doing that.

When I woke 3 hours later I pulled my ear plugs out (as they were welded in trying to muffle the sounds from the hotel kitchen) to the most awful stench.  I walked towards the bathroom with trapadation, opened the door to see black stinking goo all over the floor and up the walls.  It seems the lav had exploded or something (nothing to do with me!)

It was at this point that I sat on my bed, put my head in my hands and cried like the big girl that I am.  A combination of events had finally got me down and the pressure had weighed just a little too much.  An exploding lav had tipped me over the edge.  I, of course, felt much better afterwards and treated myself to dinner out and a couple of drinks (vodka 30p!), oh and some new flip flops and a silk pashmina.....never underestimate the power of retail therapy.  I met a boy on the street who asked 'where you from lady?', 'England' I replied.  He said 'lavly jabbly' and walked off.  To which I laughed out loud.

Once I'd got over the slurping and groping of the Western man with his newly purchased wife on the plane, I eventually arrived in Hanoi and it was a sheer delight to arrive one hour after i'd taken off and not 14 dehydrated hours later. The Lonley Planet described Hanoi as 'Artistic and Colonial'.  Ummmmm, where?  Minus the fallen trees, it looks the same as Hoi An as far as I could tell.  Same touts, same people sat on their haunches on street corners cooking their meals, same children trying to sell you 'readers digest' versions of latest novels and same number of dogs and cats tied up on string and starved half to death.  I stayed only for 2 days, the lure of Hong Kong with it's buzz and bright lights was pulling me in......