192. Baby's first sleeper train from Hoi An to Hanoi (Vietnam - Day 4)

02 Jan, 2025

This is a continuation of my Vietnam trip I took around mid-end March of this year.

Link to part 1, part 2, and part 3.

📅 23 March 2024

The bridge in between Hoi An and Da Nang. Motorcyclists are a plenty here in Vietnam.

I booked a sleeper train from Hoi An to Hanoi because I haven’t had a chance to experience an overnight train in Vietnam yet. It was either a quick flight or an overnight train for just a little bit more, so I opted for the transportation I haven’t taken yet.

I arrived at the train station about 40 min early and I quickly got a bahn mi across the street before boarding. There were a bunch of young French tourists surrounding the bahn mi stall and they made pleasant conversation with me. They were asking about what was inside the sandwich, and I happily replied "bahn mi avec ouef" and they were glad someone was speaking french, I guess.

I was in the assigned train cabin alone for about 5 minutes before someone arrived. It was a comfy cozy place (it was such a tight fit) with 4 beds. I was a little bit puzzled about how we’re going to fit 4 people in it. The person that arrived was a German girl that was a bit younger than me. I sat in one of the bottom bunks and chatted with her for a little bit, before I climbed over onto the upper bed. I wasn’t sure if we were picking up more passengers on the way.

The cabin was so small. At one point, I imagined simply rolling my bag off of my bunk and out into the corridor. I could sleep standing up, surely. I could live in the hallway

This journey should have been about watching the Vietnamese countryside blur into the darkness while I doze off into the night, listening to the rhythmic clatter of the rails, anticipating my trip around the capitol - you know, productive things while being on a train. Instead, it became such a surreal social experiment. I practiced my patience and cultural diplomacy.

It started with this old French couple. Like all French people, these two elevated complaining to a near Olympic sport. I don't know what exactly their exact grievances were, but I could only describe their tone as equal parts shrill, entilted, and determined to make everyone around them suffer. A sleeper train cabin is quite small, but somehow, the complaints filled every inch of space. I asked my French friends, who were all around my age, and they just scoffed and said, "yeah, that's how the old people are..."

The German girl sharing the cabin with us had to say something. Now, I've traveled enough to know that German directness is a cultural trope, but even I was stunned at how quickly she went about it. I find that most Germans I come across are a little bit more reserved, before they make a direct comment like that. There was a very pointed, "Could you stop please?" not a shout, but just a simple statement. Was I witnessing an international incident?

Nope. Just a Tuesday. The old French couple just kept going and bickering and talking lol.

--

I was in the corner, clutching all the scraps of French vocabulary I could muster. Trying to appease the couple with a murmured "désolé" as if I were a peace envoy sent to this particularly fussy war zone. I didn't really want to get involved, but their relentless grumbling felt like nails on the chalkboard of me and the German girl's sanity. When they huffed and muttered under their breath again, I tried my best to talk to them again.

"Je peux éteindre les lumières à 22 heures ?" (Can I turned off the lights at 10 PM?)

"Bah- oui, bien sûr !" (Why yes, of course!)

I muttered a shy, "merci beaucoup" and sighed. At least I got a little bit of peace then. I thought it was a good compromise for everyone.

I should have been focusing on my book (I brought a copy of a French book called "Les Belles Amours" by Louise de Vilmorin translated in English) or sinking into a restless half-sleep like the rest of the others on the train. For the time being, I was trying to be a quiet diplomat and buffer of cabin tension. Before it was lights out, the wife saw my book, picked it up and said this was a great book, but then opened the pages and realized it was all in English.

She smacked her lips in disappointment and exclaimed, "Pourquoi en anglais?!" (Why in English?) then dropped it immediately.

I didn't have time to say something like "Parce que je veux lire en anglais pour comprendre, mais je lirai en francais après avoir compris l'histoire..." (Because I want to read in English to understand, but I will read after I have understood the story) or some bs like that. It was incredible how they were so dismissive of me 💀

There's something about being trapped for 17ish hours with strangers who are far too comfortable being miserable, and sharing that misery. I could feel myself getting unreasonably embarrassed, as if their rudeness reflected on me for some reason.

I got some sleep after all, but I felt the bumps on the railroad the entire time. It wasn't the best sleep of my life, but at least I was in a horizontal position. I said "bonjour" to the older french couple when I saw that their eyes were wide open and doing things in the early morning and they greeted me back. The German girl underneath me had headphones on the entire time.

I think the French couple felt a little bit bad about being big complainers, so they gave me a palet breton. That was really kind.

--

A few hours have passed and it was just the French couple and me. The German girl decided to go of the cabin to explore (I assume). The husband actually engaged in some conversation with me, since we were both perched on top of the top bunks.

I pulled out my deck of cards and asked him if he knew "Roi dans le Coin". He didn't, but I tried my best to explain the rules of the game. The wife was really delighted that her husband was playing with me, that she took a photo of us playing on the top bunks of the cabin. It was actually really delightful. I think I'm on some boomer French lady's Facebook page now. If you find me, don't be shy to send it over. I think it would be funny to see.

The train came to a halt in Ninh Binh and the German girl disembarked. She said a speedy goodbye to me and then left right away. The distance between Ninh Binh and the capitol was about 1 hour and 30 minutes. I read a good chunk of my book before we reached our destination.

--

We reached Hanoi around 11AM. It was a roughly 17 hour overnight trip from Central Vietnam that started in Da Nang, reaching Hanoi, Northern Vietnam. I just had two backpacks to carry out, and I wasn't above the age of 65, so I was pretty quick in leaving the cabin. I said my goodbyes to the French couple and made my way down the road, walking towards the city center.

I checked my Google Maps for the distance between the train station and the city center and realized that I was a bit too early. The hostel's check-in desk isn't open until 2PM, so I decided to have lunch at an outside stall.

Around noontime, I had my first lunch in Hanoi, bun dau, at a local eatery with plastic stools and no name (quite typical for a lot of outside stall restaurants). My bun dau lunch was a combination of rice vermicelli, protein ingredients, and fresh herbs. It was their special at the restaurant and saw all the other locals eating it, so I wanted to have a go at it too.

Lunch was filling, but I was still a tad too early, so I decided to kill time by visiting the climbing gym. It was about a 30 minute walk from the restaurant. Every time I visit a new city I like to do at least 1 of 3 things:

1. Go for a jog in the early morning
2. Visit the local climbing gym
3. See a drag show at the gay club

I really enjoy sampling the local climbing scene at a new city. It's always nice to go there because sometimes you make a new friend and send routes. Sometimes the routes are kind of sandbaggy ¹, but I'm usually not too hardcore whenever I travel.

--

Around 2:30PM I headed back to the city center and checked into my bunk in the hostel. The hostel I was staying at is across the street from St. Joseph's Cathedral. I decided to get cozy, stretch my legs and scroll in my bunk, looking for activities to do and things to see before heading back onto the street to enjoy the city sights. I decided to sign up for yet another cooking class the next day.

I sat on the street with a tiny stool and enjoyed another egg coffee at a tiny coffee shop across the street from the cathedral around 3:30PM. I wandered around and stopped at a restaurant.

There was no one here, so I was a bit hesitant, thinking it was an unpopular place, but maybe the evening dinner rush is when a lot of its regular customers come through. Their signature is bánh canh ghẹ - thick noodles steeped in crab stock that originates from central Vietnam. I had a nice warm bowl of soup and had a side dish of spring rolls. It was good and very filling.

I took a nap in the afternoon because I needed a bit of rest. After I woke up, I decided to poke my head into the common room, which was basically a giant balcony with places to sit at and a pool table in the middle. It seems like there were a lot of young people hanging out and a couple of older looking digital nomads finishing with their work for the evening at the tables. I decided to join a pool game with a group of guys. Someone offered me a Hanoi beer and I graciously accepted. Soon, more and more people came into the common room and I took out my deck of cards and a group of people joined in.

After a few hands of card games and drinking games (me and a bunch of Brits taught a lot of international friends at the hostel), I got a random invite to an underground techno club. I was really tired...

But I didn’t decide against it!

~ trainspotting and tourist spotting,

<3 K

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