Night Train

So after two somewhat luxurious days in Bangkok (hanging out by the pool and when the heat became too overpowering retreating back to our air conditioned room), it was time for the night train up to Chiang Mai (approx 13 hours). Checkout was eleven and the train didn't leave until 6pm. We figured that the easiest thing to do would be to catch a cab to HuaLamphong Train Station, check our bags, and explore the city for the day. Our hopes were dashed as soon as we spotted the 'luggage check', about a hundred bags heaped in a pile around a bored looking clerk. Though I'm sure in his boredom, a thief attempting to pilfer bags would be a welcome intrusion (and something for him to do) I think we may have been more worried about actually having to sort through that pile later and try to find our bags.

So we settled onto the dusty tiled floor of the main hall among other groups of similarly disheveled travelers, mostly Thai. We had five hours to kill at this point and the train station itself offered little in the way of distraction...until two girls, the oldest couldn't have been more than six, lingered nearby us, shyly, smiling and then turning, covering their faces and laughing. They were both barefoot with pageboy haircuts and mischevious smiles and at first, we were charmed. Ten minutes later, the charm had worn off as the older one wagged my stolen flip flop in front of me (as I helplessly grabbed at it) while the other collapsed into peals of laughter.

waiting at the Bangkok train station

Several hours later, both flip flops securely on my feet, we boarded the night train. We had our own private room (first class! with A/C!) but alas it was suffocatingly small and a bit dingy, but that only added to its charm. Exhausted at this point, we stretched out and watched rain splatter across the train windows as Bangkok slipped further and further away, until soon we were rattling through the countryside, a moon hanging low.







We fell in and out of consciousness, still chasing the tail of jet lag but always coming up short. At one point, I remember a small woman entering our berth with a plate of food, quiet as a whisper, bowing as she placed a tray of saran-wrapped food before us. It was still there when we woke up in the morning. Surprisingly, 13 hours flew by and before we knew it, the jungles and mountains outside our window eventually gave way to Chiang Mai, the ancient Lanna capital of Thailand. We had arrived. We were home.