When the ship returns to the seaside town

If the scene of families bidding farewell at Nha Trang station is one of tearful faces and hurried hugs before the train departs, then the emotions upon the train's return take on a different hue – a mix of nostalgia, longing, and the joy of reunion. Only those who have traveled far truly understand the feeling of anticipation when the train begins to touch familiar lands. For those traveling south from the North, the moment the train crosses the Ca Pass and sets foot on Khanh Hoa province, their hearts feel a little lighter. But when the train hugs the slopes of Vinh Luong mountain, bowing to the city appearing in the distance – where the city lights twinkle like a Milky Way reflecting on the rippling sea – their hearts truly leap with excitement. Like a child far from home seeing their old house, the train seems to hurry, shortening each meter of track to get closer to the beloved coastal city.

Photo: Ha Tung.

The scenery along the railway tracks at that moment seemed to add another note to the symphony of human emotions. The silvery white reeds on either side of Luong Son slope swayed in the train's breeze like clouds descending from the sky. The train passed through the deep Ru Ri tunnel, xuyên through the rocky mountains, and the heart felt as if it had just touched a deep note in memory. Then the train sped past the San mountain pass, and when the rattling sound of the iron wheels tapping on the iron bridge over the Cai River echoed, the city truly came into view. Through the window, familiar images and scenes appeared. The train slowed down, the sound of the iron wheels like the footsteps of people tiptoeing home. In the distance, the clock of the Stone Church appeared, familiar as a welcoming signal. And at the station, the arms of loved ones were outstretched, the smiles mixed with tears of a homecoming.

The train returning from the South brought with it a different spectrum of colors and scents – the vast sunshine of the steppe, the scent of the countryside, and the gentle breezes of Cam Ranh and Cam Lam. Passing through endless sugarcane fields and lush mango orchards, the train seemed to travel through a verdant landscape. During mango blossom season, tiny golden flowers dotted the branches outside the window – the whole sky seemed to bloom with them. When the train's loudspeaker announced, "Cay Cay Station - Dien Khanh, approaching!", we knew we had reached the city. Then the train continued on to Phu Vinh station, where a two-story, moss-covered station, over a hundred years old, evoked distant memories through the train window. As the train approached Ma Vong, the prolonged screeching of the brakes was like a moment of silence before the city lights flooded in. Once, this place was a field of water spinach and fragrant fields of flowers for the Lunar New Year. Now it's a bustling city, but in the hearts of the people, the memories retain their original colors.

Then, Nha Trang station came into view. The train doors swung open, and passengers poured out, each with their own expression – some embracing each other with mixed feelings of joy and sadness, others silently taking a deep breath of their homeland's air. Amidst the hustle and bustle of the station, there was a small moment of silence in people's hearts – a sacred moment of reunion.

Nha Trang at that time was more than just a seaside city. Nha Trang was a mother's gaze at her child through the train window, a father's hunched figure waiting for his child on his old motorbike, the wind-soaked hair of an old friend from years past. It was the smell of fish sauce, the aroma of banh can (a type of Vietnamese pancake), the scent of the Cai River breeze on a windy afternoon.

Perhaps, for some, a train is simply a means of transportation. But for those who live by the sea, the train journey home is a trip back to memories, an emotional journey that fills their hearts with love every time they travel it.

DUONG MY ANH

Source: https://baokhanhhoa.vn/van-hoa/202506/khi-tau-ve-pho-bien-47f67d7/