Well, we weren't expecting 'The Ghan' or even 'Virgin Rail', and people we know who've done this trip had said it was ok (you know who I mean, Ms Deary!), but really, it was sooo dirty, and only the fact that we'd recently been to the Perfume Pagoda (the dirtiest place I've ever seen, though Sal says India was worse) stopped me from covering myself from head to foot in alcohol gel and climbing inside my sleeping bag liner!
I had my suspicions when we got to the station, it was a chaotic place full of shifty-looking Vietnamese scally-types, we'd heard of many tourist scams, and were a bit nervous. So we stood in the waiting area, as close to the station-staff as we could, without actually sitting in their laps, and clinging to our bags, looking like a pair of maiden aunts at on orgy!
We'd booked a sleeper-cabin, and thanks to a tip-off from Andrea (now forgiven!) we'd booked all four bunks so we didn't have to share, and it was well worth doing. We found our cabin, and after we'd recovered from just how small and grimy it was, I set about locking us in! I had read that sometimes the attendants try and find empty bunks for people, and don't really understand the concept of Western folk wanting a private cabin. The Lonely Planet Guide is even a bit sniffy and judgemental about booking a cabin out, and reckons sharing is fine 'and you might even meet some Vietnamese people', patronising twonks! All of this is fine for shoeless, smelly, hippy, dread-locked, tree-hugging, posh, gap-year kids, who, if they have all their gear robbed, will just e-mail Mater and Pater back home, and they'll sort it out for them! We, however, both wanted to get a little bit of shut-eye, and be fairly confident all our bags would be present and correct on awakening. Just to clarify, we didn't want to share with anyone; locals or other tourists, we're not fussy (ok, we're very fussy!).
So we had a grimy, tiny 4-berth cabin to ourselves. Then, the attendant knocked, and wanted to see our tickets, after she established that we had four tickets, but there was just the two of us, she asked if she could have the spare tickets 'as souvenir?' Hmm, call me a cynic, but the thought occurred that shortly after giving her these 'souvenirs' we might have a couple of irate punters knocking on our cabin-door, wanting to gain entry to 'their cabin', to which they hold 'gen-u-wine tickets'. I told her she could have them tomorrow, and as we were getting off, she asked me for the spare tickets! So perhaps I was doing her a disservice, and the request was innocent all along, but there are so many scams, you just can't take the risk, sadly.
Anyway, we locked the door, settled down, sprayed our posh 'room scent' around (yeah, I know!), checked out the bogs (re.vol.ting), and tried to get some shut-eye without touching the sheets, pillows, or any other exposed surfaces!
The train was rocking wildly (and not in a party sort of way), and we didn't think we'd drop off, but we did, and got more sleep than we expected. Sal successfully managed to reconfigure her physiology so she only had to make one trip to the toilet in the thirteen hours we were aboard, Buddhist monks train for years to accomplish such feats!
I woke up about 6am, had a coffee off the trolley, and munched a packet of biscuits, whilst watching the Vietnamese countryside trundle past, a very pleasant start to the day. We arrived in Hue about 11am, and the hotel was only about 2 mins from the station. It's a beautiful French 'art deco' colonial-era hotel, and is frankly stunning. It's like a set from a 'Poirot' episode, only better, and we spent the afternoon snoozing by the pool, and recovering from the train trip and the awful news we received from home.