Before each trip, Stephen king’s The dark tower series makes a brief flicker in my mind. And a favourite line from the book goes,
“Go then, there are other worlds than these,” the travelin’ Jake tells the gunslinger Roland (before falling to his death, but an explanation of the context would take a huge digression).
And i do like the bustle of transport..ports for this reason: everytime i depart, it is to enter different worlds. Coming back, the pall follows, and i’m never only seeing my work desk, my current projects, familiar loved faces. It’s as if walking through a musky hallway, finding meaning only in the afterscent. The room is gone, but the dust lingers in your nose, your hair, the memory of its light on your hands.
We had a few hours to spare post-flight. Hc wanted a laze-in; i’d wanted to pop over to the chinatown nearby. I remembered red signs, plenty of food, and a boy motorist toppling over. I acceded, and the train station did turn up interesting people-watching, not least the monk. There was a section of seats reserved for monks, and it was amusing watching the angmoh tourists in their socks and sandals being summoned to relinquish their seats to the orange robed.
6pm and all rose for the national anthem. Tourists a lil slower.
1st-class overnight sleeper to Ubon Ratchathani would have cost about 100USD(!). The 2nd-class carriages were still comfy- I was comforted witnessing that they do change the sheets. We arrived at Ubon R an hour late, but the taxi took us almost sort of just in time for the bus to the Thai-Lao border.