Hi all Ok, so we'd all heard the stories of 22 hour 'Bus journey From Hell'. Stories of people having to sit next to various livestock (both alive, barely alive and dead as doornails). Of people being boarded and having to cough up extra dough to some seriously shady types 'to aid their passage across the border'. Of people being forced to walk through chest deep water with their backpacks held above their heads because the road was flooded out and the bus couldn't go anywhere. Of people who had ended up on the bus for as long as 44 hours as it got variously stuck, broke down or the driver simply couldn't be asked any more. Hmmmm. So it was with some trepidation that we approached our bus and were made to stand and wait as most of it filled up with locals and luggage first. All this really did was give us time to take in just what an absolute heap this bus was. I don't know how to describe it other than 's*** heap'. But even s*** heaps would find themselves blushing furiously and sidling slyly away to avoid being associated, much less seen with it. I'm not even sure it had four wheels, well not ones that worked in the correct circular motion anyway. But hey, after about 15 minutes they strapped our bags to the roof under a waterproof tarpaulin (that turned out to be non too waterproof) and we were allowed on and it wasn't actually too bad inside. Granted, it was a little cramped what with all the local luggage and produce stacked at the back, and there was a stack of garden chairs in the aisle which didn't bode too well. But we got seats (with the traditional 4mm of leg room - which quickly became about minus four inches if the inconsiderate gimp in front of you tried to recline his chair) and all in all I didn't think this would be too bad a place to spend the next 20 odd hours. I had the aisle seat, so with a bit of twisted spine syndrome I was actually able to put bith legs in the aisle and get almost comfortable. Mand had the window seat and with her dwarflike legs also managed to get comfortable. Lovely. Except for the constant Laos Karaoke playing on the tv, it really wasn't too bad. Obviously it couldn't last. At various ponts for the next half hour, the bus made random stops, letting even more people and their luggage/livestock onto an already full bus. Then it happened. The aisle was getting steadily more and more full from the back with luggage etc, and from the front with people sitting in chairs in the aisle. The luggage pile reached my seat. And on gets this bloke with two big hessian sacks. And they stink. Seiously stink. Like piss, excrement and four day dead rats. And puts them next to my seat. Everybopdy is retching for a few minutes, but eventually we kind of get used to it, and anyway i've still got enough room in the aisle to stretch my legs out so we're all good. Then one of the bags moved. Not the one next to my legs, the one next to my seat. It only moved a little and for a second or two that stretched on for several hours, no-one spoke. Then it moved again, a little more distinctly. Cue a distinctly nervous, nay fearful even, longer silence. People began trying to guess what was in there without actually touching the thing, and for a couple of minutes it turned into a kind of party game. Tortoise? Turtle? Fish? Crabs? Snakes? Venomous snakes? Venomous snakes that could eat babies? Then the one next to my seat moved. And I s*** myself. Metaphorically of course, but it was very close to physical. Only a last minute clenching stopped things from going from bad to as bad as it gets. Then it moved again, slightly more violently. And again. And again. And again. Effectively, it was crawling into what footspace I didn't have. I was edging further and further over towards Mand, until eventually the top of the sack was in between my seat and the one in front. And I was looking like that black woman from Tom And Jerry cartoons, with my skirts held up, shrieking for someone to do something before this multi-headed beast of the deep killed me and ate me with a nice chianti and some fava beans. I really don't like crabs (too much like spiders), snakes I'm ok with as long as they're not trying to kill me, and tortoises and turtles are kind of cute. The not knowing was driving me almost as mad as the fact the thing was doing it's best to sit on my lap. This had been going on for probably 20 minutes, and every time I looked in absolute panic at the guy whose bag it was and asked what was in it he just shook his head. Eventually, when my screams became too much for even him to bear, he clambers back, shuffles the bag around and gives it a hefty whack, revealing the sound of a shell. He tried to get me to touch it (more chance of sprouting a fanny son), and then made a sign with his hans which I took to mean crab. This would have to be one f***in huge crab. It was the size of a dog. I s*** you not. Believing it was a crab didn't really help me anyway, but after about another half hour or so, we stopped at a cafe for a rest break. Why these bus companies do this is beyond me. They stop within the first hour of starting and then keep you cooped up for another 4 or 5. Why not just stop every 2 or 3 hours instead? It's stupid as stupid gets. But today, stupid was absolutely fan bloody tastic with me. I leapt from my seat like a salmon, using armrests like stepping stones and was out into the fresh(ish) air and safety before the doors were fully open. I stood there saying (babbling?) I was sure the guy had said they were crabs, when one of the other guys comes over and says he's kept reptiles for years and that was what they smelt like. So, either tortoises or turtles. Relief is possibly one of the most under rated emotions I possess. Turtles and tortoises are cute. After a bit, Kimbers got back on the bus to get something and was instantly shouted at to get off. These guys were trying to move the smuggled (tortoise and turtle trade is illegal I think) reptiles somewhere else, and the sacks had spilled everywhere and the place was like a paddling pool. A stench ridden, disease carrying plague of filthy water. Beautiful. After a while, we were allowed back on, everyone with Tiger balm rubbed under their noses, on handkerchiefs or on their t-shirts. The smell wasn't as bad as we'd feared but was worse than we'd hoped. But the sacks and their contents had mysteriously vanished so we (me in particular) were quite happy. Except some people's bags had been soaked in the flood. And Mandy's pillow. Not good. Not good at all. Apparently the biggest threat comes from salmonella our reptile expert knowingly informed us. Thanks. By this time, the luggage in the aisles was packed in, so there was no real legroom in that direction either and things started to get relly uncomfortable. The guy in front of Kimbers put his chair right back and refused to move it forward even a smidgen, in fact dismissed her with a wave of his hand and things began to get a little tense. This guy took a real dislike to Kimbers generally and had already manhandled her at the rest stop. Still, only another 20 or so hours to go. After about 6 more hours, and another rest stop where everybody looked around at each other like a bunch of refugees who didn't quite understand what was going on (the guy in front of Kimbers trioed to recline his seat again after reboarding and when he discovered her knees there stopping him, decided the best course of action was to repeatedly bang it back into them as hard as he could to try and get her to move. It didn't work), we pulled up at a cafe/squat in the middle of nowhere. The border didn't open until 7 am so we were to stay here for three and a half hours before making the final push for the Vietnam border. The beds looked disgusting and were being rented for 50000 Kip (bear in mind we were only there three and a half hours) so we decided to have a cigarette and a drink, a few games of cards until we felt drowsy and try and sleep on the bus. Great idea. And to be fair it worked and was only broken by Kimbers new friend kicking her to show she was going the wrong way to the toilet. Such a nice fellow. Back on the bus however, there was a little girl of about 5 or 6 travelling with her parents who decided that the bus was in fact the best thing since sliced bread and spent the next 3 hours singing, screaming and generally making as much noise as possible. Rather than try and shut her up, her parents thought she was just the cutest and actively encouraged her. Sterilisation has a lot going for it. After much tossing and turning and broken sleep, it was time to head off. We got off to have one last cigarette, and as we got back on it was with some degree of inevitability that I noticed the little girl had fallen asleep and was now looking as cute as her parents obviously believed her to be. I felt like shouting in her ear, but instead, with a snort of disgust and resignation went past and back to my seat. A couple of hours later and we stopped off for breakfast. When we got back on there was a heated argument going on over who had the right to a seat, as one bloke had obviously decided the aisle was not the place for him and had moved into someone else's seat. This nearly ended in a fist fight, and it occurred to me then (and a few times since) that the whole saving face thing is not taken as seriously in Vietnam as it is in other part od Southeast Asia. Anyway, it seems that all the people running the bus and a large group of the blokes who'd spent the whole journey being as intimidating and genuinely unpersonable as possible, were all in it together. My friend with the turtles was one, Kimbers's new friend was another, and the seat stealer was yet another, but there were 5 or 6 others as well. Eventually, we got to the border which was obviously still closed (time has very little meaning over here, even for such important things as borders) so we setlled in to wait. Mand went to toilet and was carefully observed by 2 guys looking over her cubicle wall at her, something she didn't notice until it was too late and she was standing to leave. Another 2 of our friends from the bus. Unfortunately, we weren't 100 per cent sure which ones they were and to be fair there was nothing we could've done about it anyway. Except maybe get beat up and refused entry to Vietnam. This was not a good ending to what had so far been a fairly testing night, with no sleep in an overcrowded bus with no aircon or legroom, smelling turtle s*** and piss every time you breathed in. 'Vietnam had better be f***in worth it' was heard from many a person's lips. But hey, the sun was coming up, and we were finally about to enter Vietnam which for some reason excited us more than the thought of either Thailand or Laos. Maybe because it's troubles are so well known, and so recent. After an hour or so waiting for the border to open and let us through from the Laos side, we walked for a mile or so across no man's land and arrived at the Vietnam entry point. This is where Kimbers day got even worse. Her passport is split. On the page where her photo is. Cue all sorts of shenanigans behind the counter, and questions such as 'Why have you emigrated to America' (she has a US immigration stamp) and much x-raying, re-x-raying, and re-re-x-raying of her passport. Everyone else got through fairly quickly, but she had to wait and wait and wait for about an extra hour before they finally, begrudgingly allowed her through. And there we were. Standing in Vietnam. Woo hoo! Back on the bus then (it was here we discovered the waterproof tarp they'd put over the bags wasn't too waterproof, and I thought they'd lost my Indy hat which seemed to take on great importance at that juncture), for the final 9 hours of the journey to Hanoi. Which went pretty much smoothly. People began getting off the bus along the way (mainly locals) the smell seemed to be diminishing (the turtles must have been unpacked at some point), even the birds in boxes at the back settled down, and as the people left, they obviously took their luggage with them, creating yet more space. The last 9 hours wasn't actually too bad, and we began to dream of hot showers, good food and an ice cold beer, and above all a clean, soft bed. We were duly obliged by a tout who jumped on the bus just before we pulled in, promising just that for 6 dollars per night, per room. Loving the exchange rate at the moment, cos everything is worked out in US$ which just means it keeps getting cheaper for us. Its around 1.9 at the moment which means a $6 room is about 1 pound 60 each. Beautiful. Take care all xxxxxxxxxxxx