Busin'

When traveling, we always make it from Point A to B. This I know. It’s more the ‘how’ that can be difficult to recall. As in, I know we got on a bus last night – and I think (but can’t be sure) that it is taking us to Hanoi. Then, it is through a Benedryl-induced fog that we try to decipher why we are stopped on the side of a dark road, our driver involved in some sort of heated dispute, or a transfer of goods, usually involving a plastic grocery bag full of fresh meat.

The bus rides are long. The bus rides are exhausting. The bus rides usually make me feel ill – largely because I spend the majority of my time gorging on some combination of baguettes, soft cheese, oranges, hard candies, coffees, sodas, and on occasion, Pho procured at a debatably disease-free “rest stop”. In addition to my ridiculous caloric intake, the buses rarely stop. And, by rarely, I mean, if we’re lucky, every four or five hours. Thus, it becomes a rare form of torture: the constant insatiable need to eat and the overwhelming need to pee (or worse). But, I must clarify. When I say the bus doesn’t stop, that is not what I mean at all. In fact, it stops quite frequently — long enough for the bus driver to engage in said arguments, or in said bartering, or, long enough for men to smoke or, in the case of our last bus ride, long enough for the driver to stop and size up a tobacco bong he appeared to be interested in buying. The difficulty is that while there are often prolonged announcements in the native language, nothing is ever relayed to us. Thus, we must attempt to make an uniformed guess regarding the potential duration of our stop. Do I have to time to pee, or will they leave without me?

All told though, I love bus rides in Asia. The love stems mainly from my recent introduction to sleeping buses. Debatably dangerous, the normal seats in these buses have been removed, and luxurious (albeit short) beds have been installed in their place. This allows the passenger to lie in luxury whilst taking in the scenery. Of course, luxury is a stretch. Especially considering, on our most recent ride from Sapa to Hanoi the TV on our bus (they ALL have TVs) featured what could most aptly be described as solo porn. Even with an iPod at full volume it can be impossible to cancel out the bass.

As tedious as the rides can be they afford a glimpse at the landscape that I find particularly appealing. Bus rides don’t take you to the tourist destinations. Instead, they zoom through the every day life of every day people and it is through a bus window that I have seen some of the most outrageous things I think I’ll ever see —babies perched in bike baskets being peddled through markets, a man dragging a snake attached to a stick, pomelos the size of your head, farmers wading through rice paddies, albino buffalo – you name it, we’ve seen it.

And so, while the flight from Hanoi to Vientiane, Laos would take one hour we of course have opted for the 24-36 hour bus ride. Because, why not?