A train ride, a bus ride, a thieving taxi driver and a lunatic: A Sunday with Slap
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..
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I've come to the conclusion that all animals in this country are suicidal..
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All aboard..
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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.
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The purveyor of somtam, however, went straight onto 'the list'.
"Somtam, jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa?"
I'd rather snog the betel nut muncher, thanks all the same..
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At least the kids were happy, for the time being..
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