Thursday, 04/10/2012 – 112 A.D.
[Taking you back to Wednesday evening when we were waiting for the night train to Hat Yai...]
We are waiting at Gate A in Kuala Lumpur Sental Station for the announcement that our train has arrived down on the platform. We have been here for about three hours, but that's not unusual for us...in fact, three hours is more like 15 minutes in Grayboys Time! As we wait, we look around Gate A and play the Who would you like to sleep above/below? game. There is a real motley crew here, not many Europeans, mostly natives. There's no air con either, it's a sweltering wait for the unknown.
The blue-suited station employee makes the announcement we all want to hear and everyone rushes to the escalator, pushing and barging, as is the norm. There is almost an amusing / harrowing incident when an elderly Indian lady stops dead in her tracks immediately after coming off the escalator and all of us following behind her almost pile into one another. The intercity station has two platforms, one for northbound, one for southbound. We're going north, but the other blue-suited station employee directs us to the southbound platform. Hmmm. I double check with an old guy who gets on behind me, who simply answers my polite enquiry with, "Thailand!" Guess it's the right train after all.
The berths are quite cosy, but I see why we ended up getting the last two available. The toilets are at our end of the carriage. So is the area where people sit and smoke. Also, the slide door next to us does not stay shut and slides open on a bend. That means the cigarette smoke wafts through to us.The door does actually slide shut, but 90% of the people who use the door do not close it. And why should they? They're not sleeping next to it. All of the Europeans seem to be at this end of the carriage, as if the locals knew better than to book berths by the door.
An aside - six years ago last May I quit smoking. After the cold turkey I never looked back and I never once relapsed, even with a single cigarette, because I knew I'd get immediately addicted again. But whenever I have smelt second hand smoke it's made me remember how much enjoyed being a smoker (they say once a smoker, always a smoker...or maybe it was just my Dad who said that, I can't remember). I'm pleased to say at some point on this trip I realised that the smell of second hand smoke now makes me feel a bit sick. Okay, it could be because in Asia they smoke cigarettes about five times stronger than back home, but I still think it's a good thing. I still hate the philosophy that an ex-smoker should be an anti-smoker - I'm still in favour of people having the choice to smoke if they want to...
...but I wish it wasn't by my sleeping berth! I'm sure it will be fine once I draw the curtains. In the meantime, Tim comes down to the bottom bed and we sit and play cards, just like any other night. There is a young couple opposite us, him on top, her below, if you'll pardon the expression. They're probably German, they usually are. After playing cards and posing for the above picture we suddenly realise that it's gone quiet in the carriage and we should probably call it a night at about 22:30. We have plenty of recorded programmes on iPods and laptops to get us off to sleep. I decide that I'll clean my teeth tomorrow morning, not sure where, but just not on this train. At least I fit on my bed!
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Actually, I don’t really fit on my bed, even at a diagonal with my feet pressing against the wall. Looks like I'm going to be fetal for most of the night! Fortunately I do feel tired, but just as I feel myself dropping off, someone shouts or the train judders and I’m wide awake. You know that feeling when you think you’ll get off to sleep easier if you’ve been to the toilet? So I go to the toilet, having the delightful choice between a squat or a sit down lavatory, with pictoral instructions helpfully provided for both. Back in bed I’m still tossing and turning, having to remind myself that this is much better than what we had on the Greyhound. Plus I have to contend with the sound of people getting on the train, wide awake and talking like they're in a nightclub. The gits.
At some point in the night, and after a couple more visits to the hellhole toilets, I do get off to sleep, waking occasionally, but drifting off soon after. It needed to happen because there’s a long day ahead. I wake up about 07:15 and decide I should probably stay awake because we don’t know when we’ll hit the border and I want to be changed and ready for when that happens. I’m still not going to clean my teeth though, but I will change clothes and spray where it's needed – must maintain some standards!
I think I’m one of the first foreigners to wake and gradually the rest of them come around. Tim’s head drops down from the bunk above with an, “Aright, bruv?” Seems he got on the same as me sleep-wise. The German couple still aren’t saying much (though Tim now reckons he's American and she's Scottish) and we wait out the next hour or so before the train pulls into a station with IMMIGRATION CONTROL above a door. Time to alight! Another European girl diagonally opposite us is lost in Fifty Shades of Grey when a helpful local taps her curtains and tells here she’s at immigration. I explain the situation a bit more clearer, i.e. "Everybody off!", saying it’s up to her if she wants to bring her big suitcase with her, so she opts to leave it on the train.
Immigration here is even more liberal than in Malaysia. Absolutely no luggage is scanned, let alone any human beings – all we do is fill out our entry and exit forms. Upon getting my passport stamped the guard asks me how long I'll be staying in Thailand for. I give a conservative estimate of three weeks and he shows me the stamp and says I’ve got to leave by the 18th October, so two weeks. Hmmm…we thought we had longer here…will that interfere with our schedule? Not sure yet, and the guard doesn’t understand enough English to try for clarification.
After passing successfully through immigration, everybody files back onto the baking hot platform, but the doors to the train are locked. The girl from earlier arrives later than the rest of us and I ask if she went back for her luggage. She says no, simply that she hadn’t acquired a visa beforehand and had to pay for one, at an inflated rate because there is no money changer here. We get talking and discover her name is Svitlana and she is from the Ukraine, hence the need for a visa. She’s been in Australia studying English as well as working as an au pair and has taken time out to do a bit of travelling. Svitlana is energetic and fearless, and given that she did not buy a visa beforehand, nor knew about alighting the train for immigration, she probably needs to be a bit more prepared for things when travelling. But she claims that isn’t her modus operandi - she thinks with her heart, not with her head - she's obviously never worked in middle management! She is delighted to hear that our surname is Gray, just like in the book, despite it being spelt differently.
Suddenly the train (still locked) starts up and moves slowly back the way it came. Five minutes later and it’s disappeared from view. Svitlana is naturally concerned about her luggage (and teddy bear within) and I am concerned because I told her she could leave it on the train. Tim doesn’t help by surmising that the train may be returning to KL and we’re supposed to board another one into Thailand! Svitlana goes to seek help and discovers the train’s merely gone for a service. That said, it’s gone 10:30 and the train is supposed to arrive in Hat Yai at 10:25. All the foreigners get their heads together to agree that something is wrong and eventually I suggest that Thailand may be in a different time zone to Malaysia. Everyone seems happy to go with this.
The train eventually comes back and we board and go back to our original berths, kicking back for the next 30 minutes to Hat Yai, apparently the 4th biggest city in Thailand (I cant name the second and third). The blue-suited woman on the train (who doubles as a money changer) announces the next station, which doesn’t sound a bit like Hat Yai, but it is. Once again, Svitlana has to be told to put her book down and get ready to rumble. Turns out she’s going to Krabi like us, so we’ll form an unlikely travelling trio for the rest of the journey.
My first taste of Thai hustling is when the train is pulling into the station and two men run along the platform and jump onto the train while it is still moving. They come straight to our carriage and ask us where we’re going. I quickly work out that they’re tuk-tuk drivers keen to bag the dearest fares. Svitlana hasn’t a clue what they are trying to say to her (though she certainly holds her own) and I tell her just to ignore them. However, it is difficult to ignore them when they escort us from the train and show us the way out of the station, still expecting us to take their rides. When we get to the ticket office I tell them to give us a few minutes because we have things to arrange, such as watching out that the possibly-dying dog a few feet away doesn’t give me rabies.
I become official luggage minder while Svitlana goes off to find a money exchange and Tim goes to book our seats on the next leg of our journey (hopefully not getting the berths next to the banging door!) All the time the tuk-tuk drivers watch me from afar, just waiting for a split-second’s acknowledgment. They mob Svitlana when she returns, but she fights them off, having changed her money and waving a piece of paper with the name of the bus station written down in Thai. Tim then arrives with seats booked and, after getting out several thousand baht from the ATM, we go to look for a taxi…but there are only tuk-tuks. The first driver wants 150 baht for the three of us, but Svitlana and I work in a crossfire movement to get him down to 100 baht (ahem, 2 quid). And into the back of the tuk-tuk we got for the ride of our life, tearing through the streets at breackneck speed with no safety barrier at the rear to stop me falling into the road and the path of the oncoming mopeds. I was very wary of snatch thieves so made sure we all kept our hands on our bags, given that we were in an open vehicle. This ain't first world Europe, it ain't second world Asia, and it ain't even cosmopolitan third world Asia - this is as rough and ready as it gets for travellers! Feels like we're light years from home, but loving it nonetheless.
Tuk-tuk did as told and dropped us at the bus station. IMMEDIATELY a guy from a supposed tour company comes and asks me where I am going. I tell him I am bound for Krabi, but I also tell him I'm not interested in his fare. I’d read up that you should always buy tickets from the official offices, because that’s what my tour company guy would do, and keep the change for himself. At the official ticket office we discover, via some extremely broken English and plenty of (clean) sign language, that our bus leaves at 11:45 - ten minutes from now. There is just time for a 2 baht visit to the public lavatories…that’s 4 pence for the privilege.
We get on the coach just before it leaves (goodness knows when the next one is) and I worry that the aircon will chill me to the bone in an hour or so (in actual fact I ended up warmer by the end of the journey). The coach is pretty full, but gets full to capacity with people getting on here and there at bus stops littered around the countryside villages. Halfway through the trip we stop at a cafe-cum-shop that looks like the end of the world happened last week. Svitlana buys mango slices and "custard puffs", which seem to contain jam rather than custard. Svitlana has been to Thailand twice before, hence the reason she's quite savvy with the bartering, hustling and general bullsh*t. If this is the case, I wonder why she neglected to get a visa prior to crossing the border...I guess there are some things one just shouldn't ask!
The coach gets going again, briefly, then stops for roadside repairs for 20 minutes. There are some packages behind us as we sit at the back and one of them is rattling on and off. Is it the aircon blowing against it or is something alive in there? I keep looking at the towns and villages we pass through, wondering if we are close to Krabi yet. Very few of the street and shop signs are in English, so I doubt there'll be a big WELCOME TO KRABI sign to greet us. Eventually, an hour later than expected, we pull into the bus station. A woman immediately pounces on us as we alight, asking where we're going, but I'm more concerned about why there is water all over the back of my big bag to listen to her. At least, I hope it is water! The woman persists and directs us to the "official" tuk-tuk driver who wants 250 baht to take us to our hotel. I immediately halve it to 125 and he looks extremely offended, giving the old, "That price is no good, we have to eat..." etc. In the spirit of haggling I ask if he can go any lower, but he refuses to answer, still looking like I've just p*ssed on his cornflakes. After walking around for a bit, I find a driver who will take us for 200 baht. We've basically saved a quid between the three of us, but it's the principal that counts.
The Baan Andaman Hotel is nice...it's really nice! Looks like we've fallen on our feet in this country. Definitely the best room we've had yet. Rather than mess about looking for somewhere late in the day, Svitlana decides to get a room for the night here as well. No sooner have we had chance to shower, shave and sh...ove our dirty clothes in the corner, we're off down the road to another hotel where we have been given coupons for 20% off the restaurant prices. As it is a rooftop terrace, I am cynical that it is the best place in town and will charge an arm and a leg. It is the best place in town, but they barely charge an elbow and a kneecap. And so, after a tough day on the road, the unlikely travelling trio enjoy a fine meal with a few beers against the backdrop of the south west Thailand sunset. "Choke dee!" as they say over here.
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