Cubicle Catastrophe: My Pre-Dawn Symphony of Dry Heaves and Disappointment on the Road to Dien Bien Phu

It's 3:20 am here, and I'm currently experiencing the unique joy of writing this from a sleeper bus hurtling (and I use that term loosely – more like lurching) towards Dien Bien Phu. Now, I'm no stranger to the questionable delights of Southeast Asian sleeper buses. It's a bit of a gamble, really. Sometimes you're pleasantly surprised, other times you feel like you've signed up for a low-budget torture simulator on wheels.

This particular adventure started with a glimmer of hope. The bus boasted cubicles! Roomy, private cubicles, according to the website that, despite its tourist-baiting name, seemed to have delivered an all-local clientele. Score one for unexpected authenticity, right? Wrong. Turns out, in the grand design of sleeper buses, cubicles are less "private oasis" and more "personal motion sickness accelerator."

See, the beauty (and by beauty, I mean only slightly less awful feature) of the standard reclined seats on these buses is that they somewhat strap you in. You're confined, yes, but the side-to-side, to-and-fro motion is at least partially mitigated. In these fancy cubicles, however, you're free! Free to be tossed around like a sock in a washing machine. The bus lurches, you lurch. It sways, you sway. The combined motion is a recipe for a truly spectacular wave of nausea.

And if my own churning stomach wasn't enough, I'm currently serenaded by the lovely sounds of a small child nearby who, about twenty minutes into our journey, decided to re-enact the entirety of their last week's meals in reverse. Hours of dry heaving. Just delightful. On a tourist bus, you might escape this particular brand of auditory unpleasantness, although then you'd have to contend with the other tourists. Swings and roundabouts, I suppose.

So, here I sit, somewhere in the pre-dawn darkness of northern Vietnam, feeling like I've spent the last few hours in a poorly maintained carnival ride. Sleeper buses: a constant reminder that the "adventure" in travel often translates to "mild to severe discomfort." Send ginger ale and a strong dose of denial. I have a feeling this is going to be a long

 ride.