Sharon and Jacques’ Excellent Blog

Yesterday we took a bus from Hue to Hoi An.  It is about a 5 hour trip b bus for the incredible amount of $5.00 US per person.  How bad could it be?  You always read about travelling with the locals, getting the flavour of the countryside, stopping in little towns along the way.  Charming right?

We made sure the bus was air conditioned and it picked us up right from our hotel.  For the first time, we were among the first on the bus so we had a choice of seats.  The bus quickly began to fill up.  It was, as all transportation is in this part of the world, stuffed to the gills.  It had about 30% westerners with the rest locals.  The trip started along a peaceful road and then all of a sudden, the horn started blaring.  You see, here in Vietnam, there is no such thing as turn signals, traffic lights, stop signs or speed limits.  The rules of the road simply do not apply.  Everyone has the right of way based on the size of your vehicle and the fortitude of your driver.

Our driver was the Psycho from Saigon.  He had a big bus and he was king of the road.  No one was going to pass him, and he was going to overtake every bus, truck, motorbike, rickshaw and bicycle in the world.  he ruled!

Now the reason they are called chicken buses are not why you think.  It is not because the locals are transporting their chickens to market to sell, or as a gift in exchange for the prettiest girl in the village.  No way.  The chicken bus is so named, because the trip taken on this bus is one of a serious game of chicken.  It is Deathrace 2000 on steroids.  Picture this:  You are on a winding mountain pass.  On your left is a lane for oncoming traffic and a steep hill straight up.  On your right is the smallest shoulder in the history of roads, and a sheer drop down a cliff face.  Hairpin turns are a regular occurrence.  Now one would think it is wise to exercise caution on such roads, take ones time, enjoy the view, concentrate on the road perhaps, ignoring all cell phone rings and snacks along the way.  Not for the Psycho from Saigon!  He is super bus driver, able to overtake large cement trucks in 50 metres while seeing if he can make the tourists crap themselves.  Oh yeah, and his horn is his light sabre as he slices through the mountain passes, letting every goat and cow know he is king of the road.  Oncoming traffic?  A mere annoyance.

I suppose the good thing about the bus driver constantly honking his horn is that it keeps him awake.  Mind you, Jacques mentioned that a bullet to the kneecap would be just as effective.  Five hours later we are back on terra firma.  My verdict?  No more chicken buses.  My heart just can’t take it!