To get a visa on arrival, you have to submit your filled-out applications with photos to one window, and hang around the second one until a worker in epaulets waves your passport. The organization is a bit lame, but they manage somehow anyway. I left my filled-out forms and photos in my checked luggage, and baggage claim is after you get your visa.
So we handed over three passports and two applications. Earlier I had read that those who didn't provide a photo get their picture taken on a digital camera: that turned out to be true, but not in my case. They simply stamped my passport without such unnecessary formalities as properly filled-out paperwork. That's when I suspected that everything in Vietnam was going to be simple and pleasant. Jumping ahead, I'll say that this turned out to be practically true.
A photo of the visa on arrival department, albeit a blurry one
Bicycles and luggage successfully claimed!
Everyone around is staring at us, of course.
A grand welcome
We were met by a hospitable Vietnamese guy named Tui, who had worked in Latvia for a long time and therefore spoke Russian. And another lady, his colleague, who spoke Russian even better. We spent quite a while explaining what we wanted and where we were going, but it got sorted out more or less.
Discussions about the route
A minivan taxi from the airport to Hanoi (about 35 kilometers) cost around 30 bucks.
You can order a taxi in advance too, but it's totally unnecessary.
The tiles in Vietnam are beautiful, you'll see them many times
The front door to the house and garage. Middle-upper class Vietnamese do drive cars after all.
Houses in Vietnam are narrow and intricately decorated on the outside, if affordable. The wealthier the family, the more floors there are. You'll get to admire them plenty in the following posts.
Local rusks, bought at our request
Egg-flavored, not bad tasting. As it turned out later, there's absolutely no problem in Vietnam with instant noodles, snacks like nuts or chips, or sweets.
In the evening we were taken to eat the famous Pho Bo soup. (Pho Bo)
It's famous for being the most ordinary dish ever, served literally everywhere. It costs about a dollar, sometimes a buck and a half or even two. It's basically a beef noodle soup, usually eaten for breakfast. There's also one with chicken, then it's Pho Ga.
The soup comes with various enhancers
In the photo above: lime, chili sauce, sliced chili pepper, soy sauce, thinly sliced pickled garlic.
The chili pepper is spicy, 1 piece is enough for our guys. I can put in 5, but it's already a bit uncomfortable. 10 is quite hard to endure.
Next to the eatery where we had our soup, people were sitting on small plastic stools drinking tea. Tea in Vietnam is always green or oolong, horrifyingly strong. Locals don't drink black tea, and it doesn't even exist, except in cafes for foreigners, proudly sporting "Lipton". They drink tea from tiny glasses, like in Turkey, but of a normal shape, not the special one.
Overall — I'm probably one of the few people from Latvia who can drink green tea this strong, and without sugar, too. But at times even I had a hard time — I only drink it that strong by mistake, if I've put too much in. At the teahouse, we also saw for the first time how folks smoke something out of a massive bamboo pipe. It looked psychedelic, as if they were smoking the tea right out of it. I won't show the pipe just yet, but it'll be in later posts.
Tui, as agreed, bought us train tickets to Lao Cai, which is a stone's throw from the resort of Sa Pa, our intended destination. Also, near the train station, a hustler tried to sell us a bottle of water for $10. In the end, Tui went and bought one for $1.
Everything about tickets, their prices, and availability can be found on seat61. Overall, it's better to buy in advance, especially close to the holidays. Tickets cost from 4 (a hard seat) to 21 (a soft little bed with linen, AC) bucks. There are also ones for fancy dudes for 70.
As for the few kilometers from Tui's house to the train station that we rode at night, the impressions are unforgettable. Thousands, tens of thousands of light motorcycles, aka heavy mopeds with a 100-200 cc engine displacement, constantly honking and maneuvering, paying only nominal attention to traffic rules. Surprisingly, there are almost no accidents despite this — probably due to the low speeds and the habit of carefully watching where the neighboring motorbike is going. Yes, that's exactly what these wondrous means of transportation are called. There are few cars, and they are quite new and nice because of draconian duties.
Many people would go crazy trying to ride a bicycle through Hanoi at night in a stream of honking motorbikers who rarely even use turn signals. I'm used to riding a bike on city roads, rather than in a car behind glass and in an iron box where you feel safer, so it wasn't too bad for me. But when a car is driving straight at you at an intersection, and you need to get across or else you'll lose sight of your comrades, anyone would feel uneasy. The adrenaline and thrill lasted for a long time.
Our bikes are about to be loaded onto the train
We took a slightly worse train because it had a freight car where they usually shove motorbikes, but they took our bicycles without any questions too (for an extra fee, of course)
Onto this one
Here's what the sleeping berth looks like. Three tiers in total, not two. The bunks are narrow, but there's an individual reading light at the head of each.
Our stuff
Not much space. Next to us, a couple of compartments down, there were some English guys traveling. As for ours, no one wanted to sit with foreigners, whether they were scared or shy, who knows. Only the conductress peeked in periodically. Eventually, one poor guy climbed up to the top bunk.
The sink at one end of the train car
The toilet, as well as a boiler with drinking water, are at the other end. My comrades didn't risk consuming it, and even brushed their teeth with bottled water. I didn't know the situation at the time either, so I did the same. Now I think that it was perfectly fine to pour boiling water from the boiler, and maybe even cold water, because I didn't experience any stomach problems in Vietnam.
