The train to Hue

After a very pleasant three days in Hoi An, during which we even permitted ourselves that ultimate tourist indulgence, a cooking class, and leaned how to make our own fresh rice paper for spring rolls (yum, yum, yum), we took the train today up the coast to Hue.

Actually, we took a taxi to the Cham ruins at My Son ("mee sun"), followed by Danang train station, followed by the train to Hue. Coincidentally, I am reading Andrew Pham's return-to-Vietnam book "Catfish and Mandala," in which a German tourist describes these very ruins (a World Heritage Site) as "a pile of bricks surrounded by extortionists." This is not QUITE fair, though there is an aspect of Vietnamese culture, prominent though not universal, that seems to treats Western tourists as fair game for every scam in every way. (A taxi driver will look you in the eye and demand ten times the proper fare up front. When you say 'no meter, no taxi,' he will either shrug and walk away or shrug and turn on the meter. Then he will take you a long way round after trying to take you to his brother's hotel first. Of course, Vietnam is a very poor country - but it's interesting that in Cambodia and Lao, which are even poorer, this just doesn't happen.)

Anyway, My Son was a steam bath, and not MUCH more than a very large and very old brick pile, but atmospheric and beautiful in its way. The Cham culture was heavily Indian-influenced and flourished for a thousand years before being absorbed by the Vietnamese in the 15th century. 40 years ago there was a lot here, but the Viet Cong used the ruins as a base and the USAF then bombed the *%$@ out of them. The butterflies (dozens of species, mostly huge) were in a way more interesting than the ruins.

The Danang - Hue stretch of the train line lived up to its reputation as the most scenic in the country, clinging improbably to cliffs along the coast. Alas the train and its windows were so dirty that we experienced the vista as through a light fog. We were in "Foreigner" class (yes, really) - though 2/3 of the people were Vietnamese. Foreigner class here means that only some of the seats are broken - it was pretty seedy.

Sure enough, on arrival we had to pick the semi-honest from the total bandits among the taxi guys ("Bad hotel. I have much better. Special price.") But we made it into town and have just had good Shrimp Pho and other goodies at a hole-in-the-wall across the street from our hotel. K+R started with the induldence of an iced gin; A+D finished with the indulgence of an ice cream.

And so, to quote Samuel Pepys, to bed.