Day 5: Lotus Train
There was no sunrise on Tuesday morning, only clouds. Inside the cabin, the air was crisp and cool and outside, in the hall and bathroom, warm and moist. The window glass, the metal rails on the beds, the handles of the cabin door, and even my orange felt slick with cold condensation.
Did I sleep well? Definitely not. First, there was the conductor who busted through the lock a couple hours into the journey to let in a group of strangers with large backpacks. N-n-n no, I said, a sassier tone than I’ve ever taken suddenly emerging in the face of danger. I booked this whole cabin! I scrambled to pull up my ticket on my phone which the other conductor had already checked, but in the meantime, the dumb-faced group wandered out and down the hall to disturb someone else’s attempted slumber.
Then, there was the noise. The automatic hand dryer blasting at odd intervals. The chug of the engine, the thunk-thunk-thunk of wheels over track, the tremor of every door in its frame, the squeal of the brakes as we made additional stops. None of this is conducive to sleep, as it turns out.
Still, I was pleased with my train journey overall. Finally, I’ve acted out my Hogwarts Express / White Christmas dream. Plus, I’ve seen more of this country than I would have otherwise, its green, green irrigated rice fields interspersed with clumps of banana leaves and occasionally, heaps of pale yellow ducks, plus pools of still, brown water, and humble concrete-and-tile structures.
Random thoughts I had while on the train:
The bathroom smells like Big Red, the cinnamon gum.
This Kinh Do thing tastes like a twinkie crossed with a blueberry muffin.
The 3-in-1 instant coffee is just as terrible and sickly sweet as you might imagine.
I really hope this Paris lactaid hasn’t lost its efficacy.
Carrying a tiny cup of hot water on a rigorously jostling train is a real feat.
How do people on the top berths carry their little cups of hot water up there?
I had lost wifi in the night, so I spent the morning’s five-hour ride down the coast listening to music and staring out the window. The line, “When I’m thinking then I’m thinking too much,” had popped into my head, so relevant to solo travel, and drove me to pull up my “Carly’s Best” playlist and put it on repeat.
She sang me through the Vietnamese countryside as it transformed from misty farmland to hilly jungle and tropical cliffs. Finally, as we rolled out of Hue, the clouds began to burn off and the moisture evaporated from the windows leaving a light rash of dirt behind. I couldn’t stop taking photos, my phone balanced on the windowsill. Everything looked stunning.
It was somewhat sad leaving the train in Da Nang, but the siren song of the beach called. One Grab taxi later, I arrived at a tiny Bali-esque pathway down to Hotel CHiEM, which is far more modern and chic than its Booking.com listing would have you believe—a delightful shock. Sometimes, I really outdo myself with the vacation planning. Its best feature: it is but a 1-minute walk down to the sweetest little beach.
The reviews call An Bang Beach “crowded,” but it must be off-season, or their standards for beaches are too high, because it was quite calm all afternoon. Populated, but not too. Empty beach lounges were plentiful. To claim one for an entire day, you have but to purchase a single drink. Which reminds me—important update! We are officially in Coca Light territory.
The sun tried its best to burst through the clouds but didn’t quite manage. Even so, the temperature was warm, but with the lightest breeze. The water, a bit cold when my foot first touched, shifted into the perfect heated pool temp after I dove into the first sizable wave. I thought I would only take a quick dip before returning to my unwatched stuff, but each time I tried to walk out of the waves, I couldn’t. It was too ideal to abandon. I kept almost getting out, then pivoting and swimming back out, splashing with glee like a little kid. The clear emerald water and sandy ocean floor, the gentle waves that caressed instead of slapped. I’m beginning to sound ridiculous but honestly, I’ve found a new happy place.
How and when, I wondered for the Nth time, can I quit my job and live on beaches in Southeast Asia for months on end? And how to reconcile this desire with wanting kids, a stable income, etc. etc.? These are the questions.