wan·der·lust

From reporting in Wrangell to teaching in Tanzania and Bhutan to, now, transitioning to life in the capital city of Juneau – some words on a life in flux.

03 April 2012

Heading North


In my mind I’ve always painted Bangkok in a bad light – chaotic, noisy, crowded. I suppose this has to do with my trips here back in 2001 and 2002. But on this return trip, Bangkok was none of these things. Instead it was orderly, clean, calm, no vehicles honking, and not all that crowded. Maybe it was because we stayed outside of the Koh San Road area, quite a ways away in fact. 

On top of being a welcome surprise, Bangkok was also, as I alluded to in the last post, a gastronomic heaven – hundreds upon hundreds of street food stalls selling all kinds of enticing dishes, from sticky rice wrapped in a banana leaf to all varieties of meat and seafood on sticks to steaming bowls of noodle soups, from rice flour desserts to lettuce wraps to mango shakes. I salivated over everything and tried lots. I’ve never eaten so well in a 24-hour period. I have a whole new appreciation for Bangkok and anxiously await our return in mid-May before we fly back to the States. 

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A 15-hour train ride to Chiang Mai turned into an over 17-hour train ride. Lots of long, lingering stops and slow trips between each station. And hot. It was likely the hottest train I’ve ever been on. We sat on soft seats with straight backs and the train car had fans, so almost all the passengers had their windows open, letting both the breeze and the dust to come in. Even though the train was long and hot and sticky and we hardly got any sleep – the train left Bangkok at 10 pm – it still wasn’t that miserable. The people watching was fun – passengers who stuck their heads out train windows, like dogs in cars, enjoying the rush of the night air; the ladies wearing loose plaid shirts who sold cut up fruit, fried chicken, rice, among other items; passengers who, despite the sign telling them not, sat in the area of the train car reserved for monks, disabled, and the elderly – as was watching Thailand’s quaint train stations pass by. The train ride should’ve been more agonizing, but for some reason it wasn’t. As I’ve said before, maybe after India, everything seems a lot easier.

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