When my recalcitrant offspring approached me on Sunday morning and inquired several thousand times into the possibility that I might take them on their first ever choo-choo train ride, I begrudgingly yielded and resigned myself to the fact that a lazy day in my underpants was to be replaced with several hours of acute stress. Trains are fine when one is alone, but coupled with a pair of demonic delinquents and baying herds of local people, there is potential for things to become very psychologically messy indeed.
We set off from the house; my kids wetting themselves with excitement, me shitting myself with fear, and my wife bringing up the rear just in case I threw a tantrum and hurled myself from a speeding locomotive. The plan was to get on a train, travel the shortest distance possible and travel back home in a taxi.
But upon arriving at the station I was informed that the train which I intended to travel on was not a viable option as it wasn't due for another four hours. I informed my children of this and was met with looks of raw disappointment - only kids can offer up such purity.
With this I bought us tickets to a stop some 40 km's down the line. I say bought, but I paid about 7 baht whilst the Thai people, including my children, travelled for free.
Here we go. Up close and personal with the dregs of a third world civilization. Sharing blood, sweat and no doubt a few tears.
The clock said 11.15. A long and painful day lay ahead..
I've come to the conclusion that all animals in this country are suicidal..
All aboard..
We boarded the train and this being Isaan and a Sunday and a free journey, there was of course no where to sit, although the kids managed to squeeze in beside a sweaty peasant grazing on a betel nut parcel and secure a window seat. I wasn't very happy about this because she was dripping all over the fucking place.
As is customary, the mobile vendors -they of the thoroughly fucking irritating ilk - appeared en masse and quickly went about filling the carriage with scents and aromas synonymous of decomposing flesh - I was almost thankful because it nearly overrode the putrid stench of stale sweat.
I liked this lady though. She only had three words in her sales repertoire: lao, beer, nam. I pretty much had the hots for this wanton hussy at the end of the journey.
The purveyor of somtam, however, went straight onto 'the list'.
"Somtam, jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa?"
I'd rather snog the betel nut muncher, thanks all the same..
At least the kids were happy, for the time being..