Nha Trang to Hoi An, 10 PM June 29
So I’m writing this from my cramped spot on the back of my first ever overnight sleeper bus, which is exactly like a five star hotel, only your hotel runs on diesel and you’re wearing a seatbelt. And the person sleeping next to you is wearing a SARS mask and hacking. Your window is dripping rain onto your blanket (which is sort of like 800 thread count Egyptian sheets, only it’s made from flannel and smells like it’s never been washed), which is fine except that a smell is wafting around that you vaguely recognize as Chinese foot fungus ointment, and the driver is chain-smoking cigarettes. You’d think you’re at the Four Seasons, except you’re a little nauseous from the bumpy uphill road and there’s a person sleeping in the aisle blocking you from getting to your five star restroom, which has no toilet paper and is Vietnamese sized– which basically means it’s the size of your big toe: because you are the largest person in Asia. Which means your bare feet are sticking awkwardly into the face of the person sleeping in front of you.
It’s just like the Wynn Las Vegas, except that you stop at tollbooths and honk at motorcycles. The “concierge” handed you a plastic watter bottle and a barf bag in place of a pina colada and a room key, but you’re guaranteed a twleve-hour, five-star sleep except in the rare chance you can’t fall asleep because there’s lightning and thunder and you’re an insomniac. You’re also pretty sure the last time you booked the Sands Regency suite, you slept on a pillow rather than a pair of shoes wrapped in a smelly sweatshirt. And there wasn’t quite as much sand in your bed…
But you’re too busy giggling at the situation through your bleary exhaustion. And staring at the full moon as it wanes over the iridescent Pacific ocean from your five-star midget sized window. You’d read, but your overhead light has been torn away and only wires are left. And you know that Paris Hilton would be jealous, because her daddy ain’t got shit on the Hanh Cafe Sleeper Bus Deluxe.