Phu Quoc to HCMC, Vietnam D101: Next Time We Fly

We had the manager at Cottage Village set up our transportation from Phu Quoc Island to Ho Chi Minh City. We each paid $30 for our boat and bus tickets, and an extra $15 for the taxi to the ferry. 

At 7:15AM the taxi arrives and drives us to the ferry. So far so good.

We're riding the Super Dong 3 to Rach Gia. We board, and we're pleased to find our manager booked us VIP tickets! VIP on the Super Dong... now that's what I'm talking about. 

We get to the VIP Dong Lounge and it's... packed. It's a pretty lounge set-up; the seats are plush and there are big screen TVs. A bunch of Vietnamese guys (maybe an entire bachelor party) are in the lounge and they seem happy to see us! But... they don't scooch to give us a seat. We sit on the ground while the rest of the passengers are boarding. An attendant sees that we're on the ground and asks everyone for their tickets. The Vietnamese boys laugh and say something and point at us. We present our VIP tickets, and... we get kicked out. 

Look, it's never a good time to be a victim of racism, but before 8AM is maybe the worst time.

We're sent to sit in the back of the boat, in general seating,  scoff! Royalty among peasants! Of course, we never got a fare adjustment for the downgrade from VIP to general seating, because that's just not how Asia works. At least the normal seats weren't as hard as THE GROUND. 

The ferry takes two and a half hours... AKA we watched slapstick alternative comedy shows and a movie about a Chinese vampire who is controlled by a yellow post-it on his head for two and a half hours. The man sitting behind us eats this up, which is amusing. The old lady in front of us coughs  and spits (I couldn't see where or what into) nonstop, which is disturbing. The guy to the left of us takes off his shoes, which is aromatically offensive. 

We arrive in Rach Gia and find our minibus driver who will take us to the bus terminal. It's 10:30AM, and he says we wont be leaving until 11:15. We sit in the minibus until someone comes in and loads his bags of FISH in the back, then leaves to grab some lunch. We take turns breathing outside. We're the only ones in the car until 11:10, when all of the sudden we have 15 people crammed in. And we're off!

It's a short trip to the bus terminal. We arrive and go to the ticket booth and tell them who we are, what bus we're on, and who arranged the tickets. The attendant says we need a receipt to get our tickets. We never received a receipt from the hotel, but we have the manager's card and phone number, so we asked him to call her. He's lazy, looks side to side (presumably to see if a supervisor is watching) and just gives us the tickets.

We're on a 12PM bus. No one told us it was a SLEEPER BUS. A sleeper bus is akin to a curse word in the backpacker community. It's almost always a bummer, and a six-hour trip on a sleeper bus during the day is more bummery than normal. The seats are like bunkbeds, and the only way to "sit" in them is to have your legs stretched out in front of you. I'm 5' 3" and can barely fit. Ian is 6' and can't fit, so he has to have his knees up or legs crossed the entire way. You usually can adjust your seatback from sitting straight up to almost laying flat down, but I find out within five minutes of our ride that my seatback is broken and won't stay in its upright position. I'd be sitting up reading and we'd go over a speed bump, and my chair would fall back flat and I would be forced to lay down the rest of the trip. 

I also was seated in the middle row of the bus, right underneath the emergency exit hatch. When I first saw this, I thought "Yes. Me out first." After the bus started, I thought "WHAT IS THAT SOUND?!" as wind whipped through the hatch, making ticking sounds for the entirety of the journey. 

At some point the bus boards a boat to cross the river. That was a first for me.

When we were slowed by traffic, vendors would jump on the bus and walk down the aisles to sell food. It was like room service! I liked this. I bought some quail eggs. 

There is no bathroom on the bus. I'm a genius and planned ahead- peed right before boarding and drank water as-needed. Little boys did not. There were two boys about three or four years old on our bus. They were periodically de-pantsed by mama, who grabbed the dangle and funneled the urine into empty water bottles. I was lucky enough to see the yellow bottles swish around for in my peripheral for hours.

We stopped one at a place with snacks and a bathroom. There was no translating the bus driver and therefore no telling how long we would be at the stop. Ian and I bought some water and snacks and kept an eye on the bus. You know how you find out when it's time to re-board? The bus driver starts driving and everyone runs towards the bus.

After we stopped for some food, the piss-bottle twins must have got some energy and decided it was time to have a screaming contest. Literal screaming. The moms DGAF'D while me and some other passengers shushed them and yelled back. The moms... they just didn't care. Why? What? How? Spanking isn't even illegal in this country!!

Alas, we made it... to the bus stop. Once at the bus stop, we're ambushed by taxi drivers and men who tried to grab our bags out of our hands to get our attention. We saw the green taxi we were looking for, and approached it. (We read that the government/city doesn't regulate taxi meters, so the different taxi companies have different rates and some are way more expensive than others. Go with the green one, Mai Linh, it's the fairest fare. Your other bet is Vinasun. Don t bother with the others.)

Thirty minutes and $13 later, we're at our hotel.

NEXT TIME WE FLY