Hey, forgot to mention I'd found my Vietnamese paper knife! I'd seen a few bone knives, but rather fancied a steel blade. And after a bit of searching the back streets of Hanoi, I found it - an authentic (NOT made in China) blade in a scabbard that can be hung on a wall. 150,000 dong all up, so I'm pretty pleased. Next knife from Cambodia...
So to pick up the story, I got back from a great trip to Halong Bay, and killed a bit of time before the water puppets and my train to Hue. I was worried if I was cutting it fine - I had to take my pack to the puppets, store it, see the show which finished at 10.15pm, then get to the station in time for an 11pm departure.
The puppets were good value. Controlled by animators behind a screen, the puppets splashed around depicting various scenes from Vietnamese myth and history, often with a sense of humour. I liked the one of the peasant finally catching a frog, only to have it snatched off him by a giant snake!
Out of the show, I grab my pack, and look for a moto. Of course there's one on every corner, and after another wild and exhilarating ride through the streets of Hanoi we of course make it to the train station with heaps of time to spare. I settle in to my sleeper cabin with a Vietnamese businesswoman and her son. We smile, but she speaks no English.
The train toilet. Surely these things can be designed a little better. The water level comes half way up the bowl, and the rythmical swaying of the train sets up a sloshing response that hits resonant frequency dead on. Which wouldn't be so bad in itself, as there's a drainage hole in the floor. This of course presupposes the previous user chose to flush.
A 12 hour trip for the 600-odd kms down to Hue - not a stunning speed. But at least this time I get to see a bit of the countryside in daylight. Endless rice fields, some being ploughed by a bullock and rickety old plough that looked like it came from the middle ages. Thinking of our highly mechanised agriculture in NZ, I wondered what amazing productivity increases could be achieved if a bit of Kiwi nouse and mechanisation could be applied. Then I thought, why bother? The Vietnamese have ample population for manual-intensive activities, and this method of rice production has been sustainable in this form for centuries. Anyway, a tractor would get bogged down where a bullock can plod through with minimal damage. Works well!
I strike up a conversation with Thong, one of the train guards. In half an hour we've conveyed as much information two native speakers could do in a minute, but it's fun trying. Thong helps me with some of the finer points of intonation on my basic Vietnamese words, and I tell him how beautiful Vietnam is, and a bit about NZ.
As I step out of the train into the rain my first impressions of Hue are not good. But things improve.
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