I was going to the thousand islands in Laos from Pakse and travelling with a couple of men I had met on the plane from Cambodia. One of them travelled a lot, more cheaply and with less luggage than I have ever seen. When we got to the bus I was appalled, rusty, and with no windows. ‘Isn’t it fun’ he said, and we all got on and yes it was fun and did make the destination. That experience made me much more open to travel adventures.
On another trip I was going from Hanoi to Dien Bien Phu over several days with several stopovers. The road had been rebuilt most of the way and the drivers went very fast along winding roads above steep falls. I was terrified most of the time. When we got to Son La the rain started. Up ahead the new road was still being built and all the tourists in their expensively hired 4 wheel drives had to turn back because they could not negotiate the mud that the roads ahead had become. But the bus always got through and I caught the bus. It should have been a 3 hour trip but took 7 as we got stuck in mud several times and were dug out with spades and sometimes the road builders diggers. Once we got a flat tyre and the bus skidded off onto the side of the road just above a precipice. We arrived in Dien Bien Phu in the dark and I had trouble finding the hotel I wanted to stay in. A man offered me a lift on his bike, ‘free’, and we got there safely, without incident, to find a terrific English speaking receptionist with a history degree who I hired to take me around town and tell me the very interesting history of each site. A truly great visit. I flew back to Hanoi.
My journey should have been fairly prosaic, only going from Skopje to Sofia, but as we waited in the interminable queue to cross the border, a pair of travellers absconded from the bus, never to be seen again! So once we'd made it through immigration we were subjected to a further interminable delay as the border police questioned us all in a futile attempt to find the missing passengers. When I finally made it to Bulgaria, my hotel was closed. Not for the night, but for renovations... *facepalm*
My interest in trains began from the many bad bus rides of Southeast Asia. There was one time I got a minibus from Kupang to Dili. It's about 10 hours of gruelling travel if I recall. We were about an hour out of Dili when the engine overheated and we were told to bail out. Then the engine caught fire.
We were standing by the side of the road watching the fire, then it just started pouring down. Good for the fire problem, but there was nowhere to shelter, so we were totally drenched. Another company minivan was about 20 minutes behind and we all piled into the already full bus. I sat on a mans lap, totally sopping wet, and he didn't even complain or groan or make a stupid face, as I would have done if a bunch of wet people came and sat on us. This last section of road is carved from a mountain by the sea, so I was worried the overloaded bus might topple over, but we made to to Dili no problem.
I was going to the thousand islands in Laos from Pakse and travelling with a couple of men I had met on the plane from Cambodia. One of them travelled a lot, more cheaply and with less luggage than I have ever seen. When we got to the bus I was appalled, rusty, and with no windows. ‘Isn’t it fun’ he said, and we all got on and yes it was fun and did make the destination. That experience made me much more open to travel adventures.
On another trip I was going from Hanoi to Dien Bien Phu over several days with several stopovers. The road had been rebuilt most of the way and the drivers went very fast along winding roads above steep falls. I was terrified most of the time. When we got to Son La the rain started. Up ahead the new road was still being built and all the tourists in their expensively hired 4 wheel drives had to turn back because they could not negotiate the mud that the roads ahead had become. But the bus always got through and I caught the bus. It should have been a 3 hour trip but took 7 as we got stuck in mud several times and were dug out with spades and sometimes the road builders diggers. Once we got a flat tyre and the bus skidded off onto the side of the road just above a precipice. We arrived in Dien Bien Phu in the dark and I had trouble finding the hotel I wanted to stay in. A man offered me a lift on his bike, ‘free’, and we got there safely, without incident, to find a terrific English speaking receptionist with a history degree who I hired to take me around town and tell me the very interesting history of each site. A truly great visit. I flew back to Hanoi.
My journey should have been fairly prosaic, only going from Skopje to Sofia, but as we waited in the interminable queue to cross the border, a pair of travellers absconded from the bus, never to be seen again! So once we'd made it through immigration we were subjected to a further interminable delay as the border police questioned us all in a futile attempt to find the missing passengers. When I finally made it to Bulgaria, my hotel was closed. Not for the night, but for renovations... *facepalm*
No bus stories. But a couple of plane stories, some from back when I was a flight attendant.
My interest in trains began from the many bad bus rides of Southeast Asia. There was one time I got a minibus from Kupang to Dili. It's about 10 hours of gruelling travel if I recall. We were about an hour out of Dili when the engine overheated and we were told to bail out. Then the engine caught fire.
We were standing by the side of the road watching the fire, then it just started pouring down. Good for the fire problem, but there was nowhere to shelter, so we were totally drenched. Another company minivan was about 20 minutes behind and we all piled into the already full bus. I sat on a mans lap, totally sopping wet, and he didn't even complain or groan or make a stupid face, as I would have done if a bunch of wet people came and sat on us. This last section of road is carved from a mountain by the sea, so I was worried the overloaded bus might topple over, but we made to to Dili no problem.