From Bangkok to Butterworth

I like trains; I really like trains. They’re probably my favorite, second favorite (by sea is best) method of transport. As such, knowing that I could travel by train from Thailand down to Malaysia made obvious sense to me. After spending one more night in Bangkok and doing my laundry (huzzah clean cloths!), I hopped into a cab and made my way to the train station.

Once at the train station I booked my ticket down to Hat Yai, the transfer point for the train to Butterworth, Malaysia. A few minutes later I was on my train and en route. I had booked a second-class sleeper train, more than adequate for my needs. Once I figured out where to store my baggage (under the seat… duh) I had more than enough room to stretch out comfortably. A steward (? is that the right term when on a train) came and took my order for breakfast the following morning and dinner that night. Lucky me…

As I was enjoying a beer and watching the countryside we came to another stop along the way, and my rail companion got on the train. Peter, a middle aged Thai man wearing all white and speaking virtually no English bought my dinner. Fascinated by the phalang sitting next to him, he made sure my beer was always full and attempted, quite earnestly, to discourse with me for the night.

I said he spoke virtually no English. He had a vocabulary of probably 50 nouns, five or six verbs, and two or three adjectives. I hope that I successfully conveyed that I was from America, Colorado specifically. I garnered that Chelsea is probably his soccer team. And he wants, I think, a phalang wife (despite being already married; he even had me speak to her at one point). It was one of the few times I desperately wished I had internet access, if only so that we could translate, and thus speak to each other properly.

And then my dinner came. It was quite good, actually: chicken stir-fried with cashew nuts, rice, and a side of duck curry. Fifteen minutes later and I was running to the bathroom. I proceeded to jettison the contents of my stomach, every little speck of liquid and food, at great speed. For those of you fraternity brother reading, think milk chug but with rice, chicken, beer, all dyed a deep red from the curry.

And thus would I spend the rest of my train ride down to Hat Yai. Every 20 or 30 minutes I would make a trip down to the toilet and either drink water or pay homage, sometimes both. I would then return to my bed for a delirious fifteen minutes of half-sleep before repeating the process.

In Hat Yai I bought my transfer ticket and settled into my train seat for another miserable little while before arriving at my final destination in Butterworth, Malaysia. On the upside, on my trip from Hat Yai to Butterworth I sat across from two teachers, Singaporean teachers. They had been in Singapore for two and five years, respectively. They were on the last leg of an overland train trip from Europe back to Singapore.

They filled me in on much and more about Singapore. And though my stomach was still a bit tetchy, I enjoyed the rest of my trip immensely. I mean… 23 ½ hours isn’t bad, right?