The Night Train

I took the last train out of Bangkok at 10 pm to for an afternoon arrival, allowing the sights of the land passed through to be seen in the morning light. 2nd class, air con. The lower berth for access to the window. The bed was big enough, comfortable, and had clean sheets. There was no door, but a curtain to draw for privacy. The schedule says 14 hours but everyone knows it will take longer. A 20 minute delay to the start served as a first reminder of this. 

We rode out of the city and into the night of the suburbs and industrial parks. We passed the night with eyes closed but sleepless for the constant, erratic shaking and jerking of the train and the occasional feeling of some small insect passing over bare skin. Once sheer exhaustion took over to induce sleep regardless of the perpetual awakening provided by the train, an imbecile with an alarm clock proceeded to hit snooze for two hours straight until 6 am. Breakfast was runny eggs and toast with an alleged piece of ham and slices of cantaloupe. It was overpriced but it did the job. The bitter coffee and excessively sweetened orange juice kept me going briefly to watch the jungle and the rice fields and the plantations and the small towns pass by outside. Ravines and green, jungle-covered hills in the distance were sometimes blacked out by tunnels cut through the earth to make our route more direct. 

Once again sleep overtook me and once again the imbecile's alarm woke me shortly thereafter. 

We passed a half dozen stations and stopped at a half dozen others. Riding high on a ridge, temples could be seen tucked in between grazing cattle on patches of farmland in the valleys below. 

Stopped at a station for a length of time that seemed beyond that scheduled, men wearing coveralls talked into their radios and inspected the underside of the train. Eventually we moved on and about five km out we stopped as smoke billowed from just outside the window. The smell of overworked brakes preceded it. We sat for a half hour until the train workers were satisfied and we moved on. 

Twisted vines and relentless plant growth gave way to overgrown trails marked by potato chip bags fastened to a stick and the relative clearings of banana plantations. A random golf course and an old man on a bike with a sidecar snapped my thoughts away from the jungle and back towards civilization. Cell phone towers and television antennas mingled with free range cattle and rice fields, temples, and the people of the countryside. The destination, Chiang Mai, drew near.

The Night Train

Bright Lights, Big City

Where the magic happens

I’m in the caboose

Leaving the station in Bangkok

This sign says you can go to prison for six months for boozing on the train. Boo.

An old man doing his thing.

On display in Chiang Mai

The golf course in the middle of nowhere.