"Hey, Hey.. better to burn out than fade away"

Bangkok to Hua Hin


So, I thought it would be a good idea to take a train from Bangkok to the seashore town of Hua Hin ( apparently a favorite of the king who has a palace there until his health failed recently ).

I’ve already told you that Bangkok traffic was chaos. There don’t seem to be any traffic cops. You know, the kind who stand at major intersections and stare down anyone who doesn’t comply. Nor are there any restrictions, apparently. You know, like no taxis or buses allowed on 5th Avenue from November 15 through New Years. But let me expound more. You can sit in a traffic jam in Bangkok for 30 minutes; 60 minutes. Everyone that I have spoken with has instructed me that the only way to get around Bangkok is via skytrain, the river ferries or subway—in a hurry. OK, so we way that in New York about the subway or walking. But, frankly, the subway is systemically available to at least three of the five boroughs. In Bangkok, I’ve found the distances I’m traveling usually too far to hoof, and often require at least two modes of transport. Sometimes songtau and walking or bus; sometimes skytrain, walking ( almost always ) and taxi. Sometimes taxi and river ferryIn order to get to Hua Lumphong Railway Station which is ( as the crow flies ) about 6 Km from my apartment, After much discussion, I took a taxi to the skytrain station at the central pier, about 1 Km or so from the apartment; then the river ferry to Sa Phraya; then a taxi the 2 Km to Hua Lumphong. I had allowed two hours because it was Friday afternoon. “You don’t want to miss the train because of some traffic jam”, a neighbor at the Rio advised.

The train station is one enormous room with a glass roof. It is air conditioned, always worth praise in any form in Bangkok. The hall was filled with people sitting in the red molded plastic chairs on one side. There were stalls with newspapers, some clothing. And even KFC, I guess to represent the western world. People are on the brown flecked terrazzo floor waiting for their train to be called. It reminds me faintly of Victoria Station in London—or any European train station in my travels.

I had purchased a one way ticket to Hua Hin on one of the only two air conditioned cars on the entire train. The two cars were sleeper cars, and I wasn't planning on spending the night getting to Hua Hin, a three to four hour train ride from Bangkok under normal conditions. However, I wasn't prepared to be in a third class seat with people, animals and, I'm certain, a modicum of noise--and open windows.

You can see the train in the first picture. Yep. USA, circa 1930s--maybe. I entered the train, found my seat and settled in. The seats were not Amtrak or most of the European trains I've taken; but more like SEPTA or NJ Transit--stiff and small. Across from me, a 50ish Thai man arrived soon after I did. He was tall for a Thai, maybe six feet, and was dressed for the beach with shorts, sandals and Tshirt. Next to him, a young woman showed up. Looking around, I realized that I was the only foreigner on the train. Why is that, I thought? Train is such a great way to travel. I was soon to find out.

The train set out nearly on time at 3pm. Leaving Bangkok for the south, I could see some of the poverty that is in every pocket of the city: tin roofed shacks with no bathing or bath facilities that I could see, and children that could have been part of those wrenching ads for Feed the Children. Soon thereafter, the scenery became bucolic with water buffalo standing in yellow-green rice fields for miles.

About 40 minutes later, the train stopped at the first train stop amidst lots of walkie-talkie fortified trainmen walked briskly to the end of my train car, speaking in rapid Thai. After a few minutes, they all rushed outside, and stood looking under my traincar. More talking. I finally asked the Thai man who was across the aisle from me what was wrong. the A/C in our car had gone out, and they were trying to fix it or they would have to send for another train. Somehow I knew this wasn't good--Friday night, and the way things tend to delay in Thailand, I could picture my arrival at my resort destination about midnight instead of around sunset.

The train personnel were all active in this problem-solving effort. They would pace, talk, pace again. Then, a new uniformed man would arrive and it would all be repeated. Finally, one of the men climbed up between the two cars that were coupled together, and tried to find an attachment that would connect our car's A/C supply to the car just behind us, the only other sleeper car. All the time he was wedged between the two cars, he was talking rapidly. Finally, someone handed him some pink string--it looked just exactly like the kind we use to wrap packages--and he joined the two electrical circuits--yes, yes--with the pink string. Note the picture. I couldn't make this stuff up.

My Thai train companion and I watched amused throughout this process from the platform which was hot, but not nearly as hot as inside the train car. He smiled a very warm smile at one point and pulled out two small oranges, the kind that are traditionally Chinese New Year fruit, and gave them to me.

During this drama, all sorts of hawkers walked through each train car seizing the opportunity to sell everything from oranges to full blown meals of pad thai. We left after an hour delay. No sunset for me.

The evening wore on, and I turned on my Ipod to pass the time with Bob Dylan and Neil Young. No surprise, I suppose that I played the Neil Young song, "Hey, hey, My, My Out of the Blue" over and over. "Better to burn out than fade away"--what a line, huh?

Again, the Thai man gave me a Thai sandwich that looks like a dumpling on the outside, and inside there is wonderful pork patty. He told me his name was Lee, and he was from up north near Chang Mai,which meant that he had been traveling already for several hours. He was headed down to near the Malaysian border, and would arrive there around 7am. Lee's English was very good, and we talked about his work ( constructing Thai style homes ) and his father who was a stationmaster on the railroad and took him all over Thailand on the train.

We must have talked for two hours. I told him that I was teaching monks to speak and comprehend English, and his face brightened. We talked about Bangkok. By then, the steward was making all the seats into berths, complete with sheets and pillows for all of these overnighters. I haven't seen a berth since the 1950s when my father used to travel on the Illinois Central railroad to Chicago on business, and would take the night train.

I was about an hour from Hua Hin when Lee came over to my seat and handed me a small box. Inside was a 4 inch in diameter image of Lord Buddha, into a medallion shape and it looked like it was made out of an incense material but carved in high relief. "This for you," he began. "I know when I see you that you are good woman. A monk who is my friend in the north gave this to me. This Buddha is very famous in the north. I want you to take. Smell the fragrance and it will remind you. It will keep you safe and you will not be afraid."

I tried to tell him it was too much, but he insisted. Then, all of a sudden, the conductor came round to fetch my bag and motioned toward the exit. Lee followed, stayed right behind me as I got off the train in pitch dark, waited on the platform so that he could see that there was a porter to help. Only then did he get back on the train. I waied him, bowing gratefully.

The train ride was long, dirty ( I spared you the bathroom story ) and terribly rich. It took five hours instead of the three that it would have taken on the 40 seat bus that was available.

But look what I would have missed?