"Get on Blondie. You Have No Choice"
I cant read minds. But if I could I would imagine that was what the motorcycle-taxi driver was thinking (in Thai of course!) a week ago while I was attempting to bargain down the ridiculous price of 100 baht to drive me into town. I was aghast when he quoted me the price, but when reality set in, he was right. I had no choice. This encounter occurred after spending a week in Chiang Rai, Thailand‘s beautiful northern province. I had a brief break from school so I headed up north to stay at the AKHA Children‘s Home (www……). The blessing that spending time at this wonderful place was for me, is another blog altogether. Right now I just wish to tell the story of my journey back home to Saraburi.
I spent a few days in Chiang Mai (just South of Chiang Rai) after the children’s home, vacationing and relaxing before the 10 hour bus ride back to Bangkok. Rumors and stories have been told that bus rides can be an adventure in foreign countries, and this occasion proved no different. Aside from the length of the trip, was the crazy lane changes the driver made through the hilly terrain of the North. He would change three lanes without so much as a signal, going downhill at high-rates of speed, just to be on the inside of the next turn. At times I felt as though the outside wheels left the ground on each curve. I had the front seat on top of this double-decker, so needless to say, I was glad to not be one of those with the disposition to get motion sickness. Using my growing Thai vocabulary, I asked the bus “steward“ what time he expected the bus to get to Bangkok and got a reply somewhere along the line of “thirty-three o‘clock.” Often I find myself wishing people would just talk to me in Thai and leave me to sort out the translation rather than attempting English, but I digress.
At some point the police stopped the bus and a 20-something woman was escorted off, and at some point I decided it would be a good idea to cut the journey short of Bangkok by one hour and try catch a train from the neighboring province to my home in Saraburi. Assuming that the natural place for the bus to stop would be at the Ayuttaya station (it is the original capitol of Siam after all and in 10 hours, the bus makes many stops at many terminals), this seemed like a good plan. Surely where there is a bus stop, nearby will be a train stop as well. What happened however, was something like the bus pulling onto the shoulder of the highway, the steward walking up with my bag and telling me I had arrived at my destination. Reluctantly I got off. Right there on the highway. With the shiny lights of Ayuttaya far off in the distance. Fortunately, there was a taxi-motorcycle driver sleeping nearby under a road sign just waiting for an opportunity like this to pull up. The fumes and sound of the bus driving away awakened him with enough consciousness to know that a Farang was standing there on the side of the highway, with no choice but to pay his exorbitant price for a lift to the train station. By his mercy, I got a 20 baht discount for my bargaining efforts, but really, he was right. I had no choice.
The train ride back to Saraburi was what I expected. Lots of people crammed into a tiny space. 33 o‘clock turned out to be about 11 pm, so needless to say, I was tired and just wanted to be in bed. Of course, not before a little girl on the train petted me though, much to the embarrassment of her mom. There was a man holding a spaniel puppy next to me and the girl thought it completely natural to pet first the blonde puppy, then the blonde woman. It was quite funny and everyone nearby on the train had a good laugh. After the day was over and I was finally comfortably settled in my air-conditioned bedroom, I had a chance to sit back and really savor all of the events of the day. This is a wonderful country. Even it’s toothless, smiling, overpriced taxi-drivers, it’s waiters on a bus who don’t know how to tell time in English but try anyways, and it‘s 3 year olds who have never seen light hair before. It’s all wonderful.
I spent a few days in Chiang Mai (just South of Chiang Rai) after the children’s home, vacationing and relaxing before the 10 hour bus ride back to Bangkok. Rumors and stories have been told that bus rides can be an adventure in foreign countries, and this occasion proved no different. Aside from the length of the trip, was the crazy lane changes the driver made through the hilly terrain of the North. He would change three lanes without so much as a signal, going downhill at high-rates of speed, just to be on the inside of the next turn. At times I felt as though the outside wheels left the ground on each curve. I had the front seat on top of this double-decker, so needless to say, I was glad to not be one of those with the disposition to get motion sickness. Using my growing Thai vocabulary, I asked the bus “steward“ what time he expected the bus to get to Bangkok and got a reply somewhere along the line of “thirty-three o‘clock.” Often I find myself wishing people would just talk to me in Thai and leave me to sort out the translation rather than attempting English, but I digress.
At some point the police stopped the bus and a 20-something woman was escorted off, and at some point I decided it would be a good idea to cut the journey short of Bangkok by one hour and try catch a train from the neighboring province to my home in Saraburi. Assuming that the natural place for the bus to stop would be at the Ayuttaya station (it is the original capitol of Siam after all and in 10 hours, the bus makes many stops at many terminals), this seemed like a good plan. Surely where there is a bus stop, nearby will be a train stop as well. What happened however, was something like the bus pulling onto the shoulder of the highway, the steward walking up with my bag and telling me I had arrived at my destination. Reluctantly I got off. Right there on the highway. With the shiny lights of Ayuttaya far off in the distance. Fortunately, there was a taxi-motorcycle driver sleeping nearby under a road sign just waiting for an opportunity like this to pull up. The fumes and sound of the bus driving away awakened him with enough consciousness to know that a Farang was standing there on the side of the highway, with no choice but to pay his exorbitant price for a lift to the train station. By his mercy, I got a 20 baht discount for my bargaining efforts, but really, he was right. I had no choice.
The train ride back to Saraburi was what I expected. Lots of people crammed into a tiny space. 33 o‘clock turned out to be about 11 pm, so needless to say, I was tired and just wanted to be in bed. Of course, not before a little girl on the train petted me though, much to the embarrassment of her mom. There was a man holding a spaniel puppy next to me and the girl thought it completely natural to pet first the blonde puppy, then the blonde woman. It was quite funny and everyone nearby on the train had a good laugh. After the day was over and I was finally comfortably settled in my air-conditioned bedroom, I had a chance to sit back and really savor all of the events of the day. This is a wonderful country. Even it’s toothless, smiling, overpriced taxi-drivers, it’s waiters on a bus who don’t know how to tell time in English but try anyways, and it‘s 3 year olds who have never seen light hair before. It’s all wonderful.
posted by carlymarie | 8:51 PM
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