Day 26: Walking to Thailand
Having made it so far in trains, subways, coaches, minibuses, mopeds, taxis and tuktuks, I was finally turfed out onto the street to do some of the journey on my own two feet. It wasn't far, but it was a memorable portion of the journey.
I had been warned that the train was slower than the bus, but who was I to say faster is better? This old train was definitely more fun- we travelled with the windows rolled down so that the wind was in our ears, and we stopped at tiny villages where the 'station' was nothing more than a signpost. I spent a lot of the journey standing at the open door, thinking "this is how I imagined it- feeling, hearing, smelling every mile without the cold barrier of glass to separate me from the world!"
It rained and blew so hard, that the train had to stop and wait a while. By the time we made it to Bangkok, I was so delirious with hunger that, in the land of spice and flavour, the first thing I bought was a hot dog. Yes, a hot dog (without the bread). I still haven't forgiven myself.
I've said that each border brings a new personality, but never before had this been so sudden and dramatic as the crossing from Cambodia to Thailand. On one side, beggars crawled about the broken-up pavement; and the gutters, chocked with rotting plastic, stank of sewage, as if Cambodia wished to send us off with the very worst possible impression it could. On the other side, a fresh coat of white paint sparkled on the walls of the immigration centre, inside which there was air conditioning and smooth marble floors.
Personally, I was just excited about getting back on a train, so I hopped straight in a tuktuk to the nearest station.
I had been warned that the train was slower than the bus, but who was I to say faster is better? This old train was definitely more fun- we travelled with the windows rolled down so that the wind was in our ears, and we stopped at tiny villages where the 'station' was nothing more than a signpost. I spent a lot of the journey standing at the open door, thinking "this is how I imagined it- feeling, hearing, smelling every mile without the cold barrier of glass to separate me from the world!"
I retracted this sentiment when the storm blew in, and it was impossible to stay dry even inside the carriage, and if I'd stayed at the door I'd almost certainly have been blown away into a paddy field.
It rained and blew so hard, that the train had to stop and wait a while. By the time we made it to Bangkok, I was so delirious with hunger that, in the land of spice and flavour, the first thing I bought was a hot dog. Yes, a hot dog (without the bread). I still haven't forgiven myself.
One final note from today- never book a Hostelling International hostel. You will inevitably find that you are the only guest, the receptionist is asleep, and that the building is only partially complete.
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