Derailed

After the horror of Nha Thrang we decided to escape.

The thought of more back biting australians was too much to bear and we decided to try out the vietnamese equivalent of national rail… one piece of advice. DON’T!

Having been assured of a “soft sleeper,” we were faced with 10 feet high planks of doom with no ladder. After mountaineering onto our bed of rocks, the only option was to wait 10 hours… no big deal thought we. Then we noticed the smell… Our pillows smelt of chicken shit and our sheets of cat piss. To add to these delightful aromas two bullfrogs in the bunks below shut the door to our luxurious cabin and lit up a fag. Livid.

For those of you who arent aware, I have an insuppressible urge to eat constantly whilst travelling. This led to me to consume a meal that we highly suspect was tongue.

To add insult to injury the Vietnamese idea of plumming is a akin to a vortex of doom and makes it incredibly difficult to aim. With this memory ingrained in our minds we decided that from that moment onwards we would vow only to fly. We are flashpackers after all.