Sunday 26th February

(Cont. from Page 7).....But the metre goes into overdrive. Unfortunately the distance to the northern bus terminal is further than I imagined which compounds the problem. As the taxi negotiates the busy streets in the new town area the driver explains My Dinh bus station is quite far. Nevertheless the metre is spinning just like my head. I could make an issue of it but I know the driver will act dumb and I’m not in any position to ‘phone a friend’. The final bill is nearly the equivalent of two nights accommodation in Cat Ba town or well over twice the metred rate from Bangkok’s suburbs to Suvarnabhumi airport. I’m not best pleased as I arrive in My Dinh bus terminal but if you head out to Hanoi it is of great consolation if just one person is saved by this con. Despite your baggage I suggest you walk out of the terminal into the main street. The white taxis seem to be the safest.
Division of Labour……..Once in the bus terminal ticket salesman arrive grasping at my luggage and almost manhandling me on to their company tour buses. This adds a new dimension to pressure selling and is totally unnecessary: There appears to be a general rate for the trip. The new experience here is the division of labour taking to the extreme; one person outside a booth selling ticket, a woman inside the booth issuing tickets, while various other bodies are in or near the bus. The drivers hang around outside puffing away on cigarettes as if psyching themselves up for admittedly arduous journey. Another person issues plastic bags, the reason becoming clear as both bunks and aisle are covered with gym-style mats. A girl sits on one of the bunks collecting tickets while another directs you to your bunk. With all this manpower it is bewildering why no-one offers to put your bags in the luggage bay. Once on the road I do manage to get some sleep and then around midnight there is a rest break. Rain splatters of the tin roves. Most passengers alight for noodles. I decline finding it unnecessary to eat ‘war rations’. However a cement wall does become useful. Back on the bus I manage to get more sleep. If there is a section in the brain for depositing unwanted material it should surely be full now.
(Go to Page 9)