Sleeper buses are a little different from sleeper trains. Space is a lot more limited so things can get pretty cozy. Also, none of the bunks allow for your Western male of average height to fuilly stretch out. This means that if you have another person of the same height beside you, you'd better believe you're spooning. I got a snug bunk in the back next to the window with miraculously more legroom, which was good because the guy beside me was a massive mess of a man. The bus bounced a lot, which occasionally sent my spine into fits. I got maybe around four hours of sleep.
It was orange dawn in Nha Trang when the bus arrived. It was a ten hour trip, and a mere dent out of the whole journey. My hotel room contained two beds and lay above a post office. Before any kind of excursion took place, I flopped down on one of the beds to pick up the remaining sleep I missed back on the bus.
At twelve noon I awoke. My fan had stopped curiously. I plugged in my camera battery and got nothing. There was no power. Fair enough. I was used to it. I would just go without a camera for a day. I finished up and set out for the beach.
See, Nha Trang is Vietnam's premier beach town. Lots of Vietnamese tourists milled about along with the inevitable backpacker contingent. The beach stretched along the entire coast of the town and everyone enjoyed the sand and surf. A strict 'no peddling' rule ensured that the experience would be extra pleasant. And it was. "This is nice" is all you really can think when you bob in the waves alone. I landed an especially isolated stretch. Soon the clouds rolled in and I sought out shelter before it started to rain.
A handful of Vietnamese would regard me with curiousity every so often. Must have been tourists from small untouristed towns. Haven't gotten stares since back in Indonesia. Past a few shophouses, a pair of angry dogs darted out of an alley towards me bearing teeth. I leapt back just as a voice in Vietnamese yelled something that halted them in their tracks. This happened while I was locked in the deepest realms of thought, so to be jarred back into reality by something like that was almost enough to kill me.
Much of my time was spent milling about. I was in a slump and my money was starting to dip worryingly low, so I did nothing of note. Thought a lot. How this has been the longest stretch of my life without anyone that's close to me, well, close to me. What am I like as a person when there's no one around me? Kind of boring, I figured. I bored myself. I have become that tree falling in the woods with no one around to hear it. I didn't make a sound.
The next day I gave myself a boot in the ass and went and visited a bunch of sites I particularly didn't want to visit. This included the Long Son Pagoda and it's giant seated Buddha. I walked there; a good kilometer and a half through real Nha Trang. Locals and their everyday jobs at fruit stands and motorcycle repair shops. A stimulating journey, but the destination failed to garner any interest from me. Buddha was indeed giant and seated. I took in a nice view oif the town from above however, and strolled around the grounds of a Vietnamese cemetary that encircled the Buddha.
Back at the beach, I hung a right and just kept walking. In the distance, I saw a cable car connecting the mainland with the very clearly labelled Vinpearl Island. Maybe that would be fun. I walked for about five kilometers along the shore passing waves of gawking children and still, the cable car seemed no closer than from where I started. It wasn't on the horizon, it was the horizon. Always visible, never reachable. Battered by exhaustion, I gave up and caught a motorbike back to the guesthouse. Who knows if Vinpearl Island was what I was looking for. Maybe it was, and my discouragement and inability to reach it was a giant metaphor for the whole trip. For life. If this was fiction maybe.
Power in the town resumed at 5pm everyday I discovered. not sure what the deal was, but it sure made everyone go outside and play. Take note moms. I was waiting for my open ticket bus to show up and whisk me off to Hoi An, my next destination. I rattled off a few emails and even a post card or two while I waited. The shuttle bus to the real bus arrived and within seconds I was on board with my gear, leaving.
So what was Nha Trang? Nha Trang was the holiday locale I did not deserve. Other people deserved it more than me and, as such, they were rewarded. Nha Trang was long walks and long hours of deep introspection. What am I going to do when I get home and my life restarts? Where will I be in ten years? Nha Trang was four hours alone in a double room watching the National Geographic channel. I'm shocked with the amount of double rooms I've ended up with as a solo traveler. I had been getting a lot lately. Another metaphor? Nha Trang was finished, that's what Nha Trang was, and it was off again into the thick black.
It was orange dawn in Nha Trang when the bus arrived. It was a ten hour trip, and a mere dent out of the whole journey. My hotel room contained two beds and lay above a post office. Before any kind of excursion took place, I flopped down on one of the beds to pick up the remaining sleep I missed back on the bus.
At twelve noon I awoke. My fan had stopped curiously. I plugged in my camera battery and got nothing. There was no power. Fair enough. I was used to it. I would just go without a camera for a day. I finished up and set out for the beach.
See, Nha Trang is Vietnam's premier beach town. Lots of Vietnamese tourists milled about along with the inevitable backpacker contingent. The beach stretched along the entire coast of the town and everyone enjoyed the sand and surf. A strict 'no peddling' rule ensured that the experience would be extra pleasant. And it was. "This is nice" is all you really can think when you bob in the waves alone. I landed an especially isolated stretch. Soon the clouds rolled in and I sought out shelter before it started to rain.
A handful of Vietnamese would regard me with curiousity every so often. Must have been tourists from small untouristed towns. Haven't gotten stares since back in Indonesia. Past a few shophouses, a pair of angry dogs darted out of an alley towards me bearing teeth. I leapt back just as a voice in Vietnamese yelled something that halted them in their tracks. This happened while I was locked in the deepest realms of thought, so to be jarred back into reality by something like that was almost enough to kill me.
Much of my time was spent milling about. I was in a slump and my money was starting to dip worryingly low, so I did nothing of note. Thought a lot. How this has been the longest stretch of my life without anyone that's close to me, well, close to me. What am I like as a person when there's no one around me? Kind of boring, I figured. I bored myself. I have become that tree falling in the woods with no one around to hear it. I didn't make a sound.
The next day I gave myself a boot in the ass and went and visited a bunch of sites I particularly didn't want to visit. This included the Long Son Pagoda and it's giant seated Buddha. I walked there; a good kilometer and a half through real Nha Trang. Locals and their everyday jobs at fruit stands and motorcycle repair shops. A stimulating journey, but the destination failed to garner any interest from me. Buddha was indeed giant and seated. I took in a nice view oif the town from above however, and strolled around the grounds of a Vietnamese cemetary that encircled the Buddha.
Back at the beach, I hung a right and just kept walking. In the distance, I saw a cable car connecting the mainland with the very clearly labelled Vinpearl Island. Maybe that would be fun. I walked for about five kilometers along the shore passing waves of gawking children and still, the cable car seemed no closer than from where I started. It wasn't on the horizon, it was the horizon. Always visible, never reachable. Battered by exhaustion, I gave up and caught a motorbike back to the guesthouse. Who knows if Vinpearl Island was what I was looking for. Maybe it was, and my discouragement and inability to reach it was a giant metaphor for the whole trip. For life. If this was fiction maybe.
Power in the town resumed at 5pm everyday I discovered. not sure what the deal was, but it sure made everyone go outside and play. Take note moms. I was waiting for my open ticket bus to show up and whisk me off to Hoi An, my next destination. I rattled off a few emails and even a post card or two while I waited. The shuttle bus to the real bus arrived and within seconds I was on board with my gear, leaving.
So what was Nha Trang? Nha Trang was the holiday locale I did not deserve. Other people deserved it more than me and, as such, they were rewarded. Nha Trang was long walks and long hours of deep introspection. What am I going to do when I get home and my life restarts? Where will I be in ten years? Nha Trang was four hours alone in a double room watching the National Geographic channel. I'm shocked with the amount of double rooms I've ended up with as a solo traveler. I had been getting a lot lately. Another metaphor? Nha Trang was finished, that's what Nha Trang was, and it was off again into the thick black.
Nha Trang from on high. 
Vietnamese cemetary.
I was shocked how deserted this huge square was so I had to get a shot.
The beach. Nha Trang's feature.
A lovely sky blue...
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