Time for another travel day, but this time with no flight, which is always a blessing. The travel time however was going to be around 12 hours, so not an experience I was enamoured by.
Today started a little differently compared to the last two, mainly owing to barely sleeping at all the night before. You know that feeling where you look at your clock and realise there’s probably no point in even trying to sneak some minutes in when the time is 5:30 and your alarm, the first of many across a number of devices, is due to go off in 25 minutes. Well, I had that feeling and thought that it may benefit me in the long run to keep my eyes open – Get to Chiang Mai and go to bed at a reasonable hour and finally get on Indochina time. That was my plan.
I finished watching Theme Park Disasters on YouTube, a good watch, then hopped into the shower, packed my bag, and headed down to check-out. No complaints from me, none from them, so with a wai, I was away – get it?
The gesture of putting hands together and nodding is called a “wai.” It is a traditional gesture used as a greeting, a sign of respect, or to express gratitude. The height at which the hands are placed and the depth of the bow can convey different levels of respect or formality. I opt for a mid-range wai as I don’t know whether going too high or too low would be too much or too little.
I ordered a Grab (think Uber/Bolt) and made my way to the agreed pick-up spot. I was informed my driver was 5 minutes away, though the noticeable traffic around made me fear that number being a bit higher. Why fear, Sam? Worried you’ll miss your train? In a word, no. Look, my guts are readjusting a little to the time difference, the climate, and the food here, so I’m quite often having a panic about shitting myself. Coupling this with the fact that I’d had my morning coffee and strained to no avail, meant my oft ringing YGTPY (you’re going to poo yourself) alarm was triggered. I wandered in small circles watching the taxi crawl to me on the live updates and was thankful that I didn’t have to wait too much longer than the 5 minutes advertised. I thought sitting down would remedy the fear to a degree, which it did. So, with the alarm now subsiding, or at least on snooze, I managed to ride out the traffic and the 30 minute journey before arriving at Don Mueang rail station in good time and without embarrassment. In fact, I got there around 90 minutes prior to my departure; plenty of time to drink some coffee, visit the toilet on three occasions (all false dawns), and craft some backstories in my head about others that were seemingly also catching my train. I bet they’re in an unhappy relationship and are both now retired going through the motions of pretending everything is well when it really isn’t… Those two are clearly going up north to pay for relationships… I reckon she can use chopsticks better than I can...
Anyhow, just to explain a little about the fear of shitting myself and the alarm that seems to be following me on occasion, this is most likely a direct result of an incident that happened in India some 11 years ago. Some readers may be aware of this story, and I’ll happily do a throwback post about it, but for now you’ll just have to assume there’s a valid reason that includes a long bus journey, drinking local water in Indore, a towel, and a quite emotional rollercoaster. I really am going to try and avoid going into detail about toilet antics during most of these posts, but I implore you to understand the fear that burrows quite shallowly at the front of my mind regarding this subject.
Quick curiosity: I understand to a degree the usage of the jet spray/bum gun to clean oneself and figure each to their own (I’m carrying babywipes and TP in my bag most places), but I am curious about how, despite public toilet floors often showing evidence of one having been used recently, that I never see people coming out of a cubicle looking like they’ve had a lower body shower. I mean, there’s no towels in these cubicles and the stream of water does come out with quite a force. Also whilst I’m here, how many people actually use the bin where you’re supposed to deposit your used toilet paper as opposed flushing? I know this is common in a lot of countries, but I really struggle with it, and I also really struggle when the bins don’t contain a lid. NB: I’ve since learnt that I need to buy into the bin philosophy having blocked my toilet. More on that in a future post.
So, back to the train journey. We boarded efficiently and on time, which was a good start. I was also blessed to have no one sitting in front of me and no one to the side. My seat was annoyingly, maybe not for me, but for the person sitting behind, locked in a reclined position, though I did let the lady know that there was nothing that I could do and that I’m generally not the kind of person to recline because I don’t like it happening to me. Shout out to the heathen that reduced my private area on the flight to Bangkok to what seemed like a matchbox, and you’re welcome to the person behind me for not doing the same.
The total travelling time would be around 11 hours and I’d have to sit for the majority of this, although I at least had the option of two seats. With some films downloaded, some writing to do and some views to admire, we made our way. There is a sleeper train that runs overnight between Bangkok and Chiang Mai, which would have been my preference, but you need to book those way in advance and my goal for this trip of not planning too much far ahead meant I had to endure this slightly painful experience without complaint.
Having spent another evening without much sleep, I assumed I would catch some on the way north, though I have a few fears of sleeping around people in public – fears we probably all have. The fear of randomly shouting out, jolting forward when you dream of falling, getting an erection, or sleeping on someone’s shoulder. With these thoughts in mind, I quickly awoke whenever my eyes became too heavy to hold and instead entertained myself with coffee, films, stretching my legs, toilet visits, and staring into the distance
Being a really long train journey there’s not really much to report. I enjoyed the brilliant Being John Malkovich and King Pin, which made me chuckle aloud, and I got some work done on this blog. Aside from that the only thing to really talk about, perhaps continuing the theme, is the train toilets. Yes. I’m back on the subject. Now, having gone through the fear for a portion of the morning, I was finally quite comfortable. I was armed with toilet roll and baby wipes if neither were available when required, and 2 toilets were provided per carriage for the journey. My first visit to one saw me opt for the toilet on the left. I was simply needing a wee at this point, so initially there wasn’t too much of an issue when being presented with a squat toilet, though two did quickly manifest. 1. The window seemed to be locked down and wide open, so standing up would reveal myself to everyone at a platform should we be approaching one. 2. The wind blowing through the open window could result in me having urine blown back onto myself, causing me to leave the cubicle looking and smelling like I had pissed myself. I noted that there was toilet paper before aborting the mission and waiting for the opposite bathroom. Now, bathroom two was a Western toilet. Woohoo! The same issue presented itself in terms of the window opening, but I knew I could treat myself to the pleasure of sitting down so I did this. It also felt good knowing that if I did need a number 2, I could do so without having to get mostly naked and risk splattering up my legs. Or worse, falling over from a squatting position as the train bumbled its way along the track, being found partially unconscious, nude, and covered in my own faeces. If that happened, I think I’d be on the first flight home having no doubt been videoed by someone and placed on TikTok.
Up into the tropics and approximately 10 minutes after our scheduled arrival time, which I found astonishing, we had arrived. An 11 hour journey, departing and almost arriving on time with no replacement bus services, and costing less than an off-peak single from Rochester to London is quite incredible to me.
I had a chat with an American couple before hopping into my cab and arriving at my guesthouse. I was pleased with the location, the room, and as usual, the hospitality of the owner and staff, subsequently extending my stay from 3 nights to 7. Chiang Mai would be where I was to get my sleep pattern sorted. I dropped my belongings in my room and then headed to the market across the street to get some food as I’d not eaten anything on the train. I ordered a beer before being informed their kitchen wasn’t open, so instead of moving to another restaurant, I carried on drinking and conversing with a couple of the staff. Whilst enjoying my second beer, I was informed there was an offer if I bought a third, so I stayed for 3, then 6 – I couldn’t leave on anything that wasn’t a multiple of 3. Pleased with myself for not pushing to 9, I headed to a nearby restaurant that I could see was still open. It was around midnight and still rather busy, so I curioulsy ventured in keen to try this hotpot dish that was advertised in the window and that most of the locals inside were enjoying. I’d later find out this is called a suki.
Suki is a Thai hot pot dish where a flavorful broth is placed in the center, and diners dip thinly sliced meats, seafood, and vegetables into the broth to cook them. The cooked ingredients are often eaten with various dipping sauces. Suki is popular in Thailand and comes in different variations.
I selected crab, fish, some pork, heated up the broth and then started dipping. After those beers, I was pleased to be able to manage the chopsticks, perhaps even better than the person identified before boarding the train, and tucked in. I must admit, I’m not the biggest fan. The food was alright, but nothing to obsess about, and unlikely something I will try again. I ate my meats and fish and walked the 3 minutes back to my apartment. Perhaps this was the night I’d sleep well.
So, therein completes my travel day and my arrival into Chiang Mai. If I can get my sleep pattern to where it needs to be, I’ll be doing lots of exploring and detailing my adventures here, including some Muay Thai viewing, the elephant sanctuary, some temples, and a jungle trek. If.