So the easiest way for me to identify where random train pictures were taken is to post a screen-shot of the map on my phone. Blue dot kindly identifies proximately where I am at the time. A change in cabin mates precipitated waking up to two kindly New Zealanders who settled down for the rest of the journey, but sleep was pretty much ruled out for the rest of the day.
Appears to be the station in Nha Trang. All of the pictures from the windows will be fuzzy - the soft sleeper cabins were air conditioned, which meant the windows were sealed shut, and a little bit grimy.
As it was around 7AM, it was time for breakfast. Boy was I glad to have the food from the hotel, mixed with a baguette and Laughing Cow cheese from a woman selling things on the train.
Yum. Apricot jam and Laughing Cow Cheese. Oh. How that f&*king Laughing Cow Cheese would indeed have the last laugh.
The views were just amazing. Around every corner was another beautiful beach.
Through the wonders of technology, I could hook up my laptop through my iPhone and actually have the internet on the train - live blogging at it's best!
Rice paddies.
Cemetery.
My view for the morning.
Hey, you don't look so hot there buddy. Did you just sleep on the train? Or was it something you ate...
Replanting a tree at a station stop. They were just as amused at us watching them as we were with them.
Somewhere pretty, no clue.
At this point, things start to get a little dire. I was, indeed, sick. Repeated trips to the restroom only worsened with each foray, the little bit of toilet paper I had quickly ran out, and then the vomiting started. There is not much worse in this world than vomiting on a moving train in Southeast Asia, without any toilet paper, while having diarrhea. The New Zealanders had some travel medicine that they gave me to try and quiet my gut, but it really didn't work. I couldn't keep anything down.
I managed to snap this picture on the mad dash from the train to the taxi to the bed and breakfast that was to house me and my sickness that night.
Remember how I just said a few lines above about something being the worst? Puking on the (thankfully tile) floor of your hosts while trying to run to the restroom, then thrashing about with a fever, aches, chills, cramps in a cold sweat for hours, in a country and city about as far from home (8,433 miles to be exact, 1/3r of the way around the globe) as I've ever been. Yeah, that's the worst.
Thankfully the host's husband was a doctor. Stay tuned for tomorrow to see how this all plays out...
