Night Train to Bangkok

Its Monday, and I’m on the last 3 days of my journey. Today I said good-bye to Tim, Tanya and Sophia, the family that made this adventure possible. At 6 pm, I boarded the train. I’m traveling 2nd class and will have an overhead berth. As I write, its is 7:30 pm.

For the first time since arriving in Thailand, I am completely surrounded by people speaking every language BUT English. The 3 berths across and adjoining mine are full of French speakers. Behind me are Germans. A little further down, a contingent of Japanese or Koreans are clicking happily away.
Though I’ve now been on the train for over an hour, no one has bothered to give me an orientation to the train, or to the ground rules. I’m noticing that a whole bunch of people, not me, have been given boxed lunches that include a fried chicken leg, some fruit and cookies. If this was an oversight, I’m hardly disappointed. I do wonder if this was an option to purchase at the time of the ticket, OR If there was a place that everyone frequents to buy a box lunch and bring aboard. I suspect that is the case. I think I was offered a beer for $4 by a very hurried female porter, but the offer was kind of a glancing blow sent in my direction, but aimed more directly at the French people.

I’m sitting on a comfortable bench-style seat that could seat 2. Its facing another similar bench seat, with an adequate, removable table in between. I’ve been blessed with having NO seat mate…which is a bit befuddling because when I bought my ticket, I was told there were no bottom berths. If I’ve got the top bunk, I’m wondering who gets the bottom one? I’m told that around 9 pm, the staff will come around and remove the table, fold the two seats down into a lower berth the size of a full size mattress. Then, MY upper berth, the size of a twin bed, will fold down. I’ve just wandered the train and noticed that one family has already folded their berth down and the Japanese daddy and little boy are sitting crosslegged on their bed behind a curtain, like they are hiding out in a first class secret snoopy hiding place.

My friend, Marcia, an expert on all things Thai, told me to make sure to visit some of the 3rd class cabins. Frankly, its hard for me to differentiate the first from 2nd class ones to my taste, and I walked down 5 cars without ever finding the car I expected with people sitting on stools, holding their chickens and smoking opium. Perhaps I walked in the wrong direction. I dare not ask anyone for information, as I’m finding the porters to be a bit busy and unresponsive, and not exactly the most English friendly people I’ve met.
My first challenge when boarding the train was stowing my bag. Though it would fit in the overhead bin of any American Airline, it would NOT fit under the seat as required. When I motioned to a female steward, wondering if there was an alternative to stowing larger baggage, she simply said in broken English…under seat. She then turned and walked away. I unpacked half of my bag in order to make it fit. I now have under my seat, 1 suitcase, 2 pairs of shoes, several bags of souvenir gifts, and a small bag of toiletries. I had intended to pack a rooster, but forgot it in the rush of last minute packing.

The Thai countryside looks just like what I would imagine Mississippi, Montana, or Nebraska might look like after sundown….Its basically pitch black…Hmm, could also be similar to a NY City subway during a blackout I guess.

Well my porter (is that what you call a train stewardess) just walked by and asked me the following question, without actually stopping. “ewe bef nlye?” I have no idea what I’ve just declined, but I did so politely. As the evening goes, I may start nodding my head enthusiastically and reply, “Why Yes! My fwee don neckting”. I’m guessing I’ll get a bowl of chicken toe soup. Stay tuned.

Whoo hoo, its now 7:40 and a couple of the Germans have opened the upper berth. The mattress looks pretty spartan. I’m thinking I’ll defer bed time for as long as possible.

Coming up next…..think I’ll visit the toilet, just to see if they stock toilet paper. Every toilet in Asia comes complete with one of those little pistol gripped water hoses that we Westerners generally reserve for the kitchen sink. It will be hard for me to look at my kitchen sink hose again.

Just back from toilet. Had toilet paper, but no toilet. Simply a hole in the bottom of the train car such that your deposits are made directly on the train tracks below. Fortunately, there are handles at all the right places bolted to the walls, no doubt for desperate Americans like me that cannot squat without caroming off the walls.
Back from toilet…..Oh great (embarrassed sigh) ….now I think one of the French ladies is making eyes at me. This could get awkward before the night is over…………… (3 minutes latere) False alarm. She wasn’t making eyes at me. She was trying to get my attention to see if I would turn off the ceiling fan that I control with the switch in my berth. Dag…

Hey, cool, we just went by a house right next to the railroad. I was able to watch TV for about 1 second. Now…its back to black darkness.

Just got back from exploring the train. Found a dining car and got a bowl of soup, some pad thai, and something with duck. Not nearly as expertly prepared as in the market place.

As friend Marcia suggested, I walked the entire length of the train looking to compare my 2nd class accommodations with 1st and 3rd class. So far, the only 1st class evidence I can find is maybe he larger lower birth, and perhaps boxed dinners? This does not appear to me to be 1st class though. Further, I can’t locate a 3rd class at all.

I’ve found very few Thais on this train. Mostly Europeans. 2 cars down from mine, I found myself trying to walk down the aisle of a car of 70 year old, rowdy French senior citizens. Their berths were all fully turned down into beds, but since the night was young, they were all standing in the narrow aisle chattering away in not so elegant French. I was able to actually make out bits and pieces of the conversation from my 3 years of French training 30 years ago. My dramatic moment came when I encountered a very rowdy, animated 70 year old French woman holding c ourt in the middle of the train. I was needing to pass by her, and she was loudly entertaining about 5-6 other seniors in very close proximity. Suddenly, her eyes caught mine, and before I could complete my “excusez moi s’il vous plait” she grabs me, and pulls me toward her lower berth. Simultaneously, she is announcing in French what I clearly make out to be “no no monsieur, you may NOT get into my bed with me. (much French laughter then ensued…in character, I then apologized profusely with pardonnez moi, Mademoiselle, vous etes tres jolie. (I believe this was the first phrase I learned in 9th grade….shortly thereafter we learned vous etes bete and tu es stupide)

(several days later)….The rest of the train trip proceeded relatively event free. My berth was hard and stuffy, but I found that if you strip down to your bare essentials (behind the security of your shower curtain, you can toss and turn in fits of sleepfulness quite nicely.
On to Bangkok…