Matt English finds spectacular landscapes and shows an alternative way of traveling from north to south in Thailand by choosing the rails over the air.
£24.40 can get you a long way in Thailand. To be more precise, it took me
900 miles from the mountainous north of Chiang Mai, to the white sands and blue seas of Koh Samui in the south. For 1200 THB, my Thai adventure saw a gradual change in this magnificent country’s landscape. From urban night markets and temples, I was to be chugged down through the flat lands and rice paddies with the promise of paradise awaiting me.
I was travelling with two friends and my ‘Thai sister’, Meen. I had previously stayed with her and her family in Lamphun, a small, peaceful province of Chiang Mai. Meen became extremely useful on our journey as her fluency in English and Thai meant she adopted the role of translator. I told her that we wanted to explore more of Thailand and unwind on the exquisite beaches in the south. She spoke with her uncle Surawit (who happens to have connections in the right places) and arranged for us to stay in a beach resort in Samui, free of charge.
Meen presented us with two options: by air, or by rail.
“Which would be the most fun?” I asked.
“Well for you it would probably be the train if you have never done the trip before, but I’d prefer to go by plane”, she said. That should have told us something about the journey already.
The next day, unprepared and unorganised, relying heavily on Meen being Thai, we set out on our mini expedition and arrived at Chiang Mai station in style by ‘Tuk-Tuk’, only knowing that we wanted to end up in a tranquil paradise. Having almost had my life taken away from me on several occasions on the ‘Tuk-Tuk’ ride through the hustle and bustle of Thailand’s second largest city, nothing seemed better than swapping the humid, sticky city climate for the hot tropical sun of the south.
There are three classes on the train. In first you get a private air-conditioned booth with pull-down beds. Second class also had the luxury of pull down beds, however passengers bunk next to each other cooped up like sardines. Third class was the cheapest and so I decided to get comfortable amongst the locals, their chickens and the few token Aussie backpackers. A food service was offered to all classes and it wasn’t like the Great British trolley service of Quavers and Kit-Kats. I had never had chicken noodle soup, rice and fish balls on a train before. South Eastern, take note. My carriage was made up of scuffed grey-painted steel and plastic, with a strip light on the ceiling. The window offered much more pleasant viewing on the eye with breathtaking scenery of the Thai countryside streaming by.
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| Never mind sardines, tinned human springs to mind! |
Picturesque mountains were left behind and replaced by rice paddies shimmering in an orange haze left by the sinking sun.
Slumped opposite me was a small, rotund Thai man in a too-tight, olive green suit who snored and when wasn’t snoring, coughed. Persuading myself
to sleep was hard. I found that a 70cl bottle of Thai Sangsom rum helped me envisage the lapping waves and searing hot sun that was to meet us at the end of the line. On such a long journey, visiting the toilet is unavoidable. A hole in the train floor with a view of the tracks blurring past underneath, presented me with quite a tricky experience.
After changing trains at Bangkok’s busy Hua Lamphong station, we were on the last stretch of our Asian railway adventure to paradise. More dry hills soon gave way to green paddy fields and this time palm trees. The smell of tea, which had filled the carriage for the majority of the journey, was quickly being exchanged for fresh sea air as Meen slammed down a window in excitement.
“We must be close now”, she said with her head poking out of the rusting frame.
It was a journey full of bizarre scenes and incidents, one being when our train sent a cow tumbling head over hooves into a ditch. It obviously hadn’t seen the ‘THINK’ adverts on TV. At the end of the line at Surat Thani, I was woken from my rum induced coma and dragged off the train by Meen;
“Come on sleepyhead, my uncle’s here to take us to Chaweng beach where we will be staying.”
After being introduced to Meen’s uncle Surawit, we headed for Dong Sak where we would take the Raja car ferry to Koh Samui. Sitting in the open back of Surawit’s pickup truck with no protection going 80mph plus, the blasting air in my face removed all evidence of tiredness. I could just prise my eyes open enough through the wind to see the beautiful white sands and blue seas to the side of me.
Standing on the top deck of the ferry, with the cool wind stroking my sun soaked skin; I looked back on mainland Thailand and admired how beautiful this part of the world is. The 24 hours spent on a rickety old train had suddenly all seemed worth it once we had arrived in Koh Samui. The island was animated with typical Thai nightlife and markets, alive with colour and fragrant with authentic smells. As I lay on the beach sipping a tropical cocktail I raised the question; “How are we getting back then? Train or plane?”
I sunk back into the warm sand, knowing what the general consensus would be.
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