2018.12.01 – On the Train from Chiang Mai to Bangkok

I’m sitting on the train to Bangkok, wondering what surprises this bustling city might have in store for me. The sun is slowly rolling down. Since returning to Chiang Mai, this is probably the most beautiful sunset I’ve had the chance to watch. I sit in quiet contemplation, taking in the golden glow embracing the swaying reeds outside, gently, softly. No matter how many ornate words I use, they could never fully capture this moment. Watching the sunset even through the glass window of a train carriage is always a profound comfort for a lone wanderer in a foreign land.

Dongdong, a Tibetan girl sitting across from me, seems equally moved by the evening light. With the blood of her mountainous homeland flowing through her, a place I’ve always longed to visit, Dongdong quickly becomes my train companion for the next twelve hours. Her next stop is Nepal, where she’ll stay with acquaintances for two whole months to explore.

I particularly enjoy traveling by train in Thailand. Besides saving a bit on transportation, it allows me to see long stretches of this country unfold. My ticket from Chiang Mai to Bangkok cost 581 Baht – 2nd Class, Lower Bed with Fan. Compared to train fares in Vietnam, this price is practically nothing.

The beds on Thai trains are interesting: during the day, they fold into seats, so passengers on the upper or lower beds can sit together and enjoy the view from the window. Around 6 or 7 in the evening, train staff come to convert the seats into beds, hang curtains for some privacy, and organize the luggage neatly on the metal racks. If careful, you can even lock your backpack. The only inconvenience for foreign travelers is that all announcements on the train are in Thai. To know when to get off, you either have to ask someone or rely on Google Maps.

Earlier, on my way to the station, I stopped by the market to pick up some vegetable salad for dinner. I don’t know when I’ll get another chance to buy salad here. But that doesn’t matter. All I need now is a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow will bring a new day.

2018.12.02 – Hua Lamphong Station

6:45 AM – I’m sitting at Hua Lamphong Station, waiting for my phone to charge a bit. The old iPhone 4, gifted by my cousin ages ago, is becoming increasingly “unreliable.” I hadn’t even used it during the train ride, yet the battery plummeted ridiculously – from 98% to completely dead. I didn’t bring a power bank, and to make things worse, there’s no public charging station at Hua Lamphong. After running around the station and failing to find a spot, I had no choice but to ask a station employee for help. Apparently, to charge your phone here, you have to go to the Luggage Storage counter, and the cost? 30 Baht per charge. Bangkok really knows how to mess with people!

10:30 AM – Finally arrived at the hostel. With just 6.50 Baht, I could get there in the easiest way possible – yet back at the station, I had been fumbling endlessly, unsure of which transport to take. Dongdong had already caught the MRT to Don Muang to make her flight to Nepal. As for getting to my hostel, MRT, BTS, or even the boats weren’t convenient. The fastest option would be a Grab moto, but the app said 98 Baht! Trusting that there had to be a bus somewhere, I grabbed my backpack, headed toward the station exit, and asked some locals for the nearest bus stop.

Riding a bus in Bangkok felt strangely delightful, as if I had traveled back in time to old Hanoi, when buses were still simple, not freshly painted, and certainly without air conditioning. I sat on the seat beside a creaky glass window, opened wide to welcome the fresh early-morning air. The bus rushed along the city streets, tilting and swaying with decisive purpose. This seemed to be one of Bangkok’s few remaining “old buses,” clinging to a past while the city transformed around it.

The bus route I took was number 53, right by the Hua Lamphong station gate. My stop was about a 5-10 minute walk from the hostel. After getting off, I followed the map to my temporary home for the next three days. Bangkok is suffocating, noisy, and hot! I realize that whenever I arrive in a city, those are the first three words I always use to describe it. Maybe, if I stayed long enough, I’d find more positive words, meet interesting people, and write beautiful stories. But as a wanderer, constantly counting each day I get to explore the world, how could I ever stay anywhere long enough to feel truly “satisfied”?

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2018.12.03 – Sathorn-Taksin Ferry Pier

6:00 AM – I’m sitting, sipping a cup of butterfly pea tea I bought at the Vegetarian Society, gazing at the street corner from the hostel balcony. Calling it a balcony might be generous, though I can see the sky, it’s just a tiny little patch. Yet I crave vastness. It’s strange: when I encounter something small and charming, I instinctively want to take out my camera or just stare, losing myself completely. But when faced with the vast, infinite expanse, the only thing I want to do is close my eyes and let it swallow me whole, to hear the purest sounds, to feel myself become transparent and dissolve, to see that I am nothing at all amid the endless universe. Today, I’ll wander around Bangkok and send postcards to a few friends back home. I hope they receive them… intact.

I need reasons to love this chaotic city. Perhaps I need stories, glimpses of people…

5:30 PM – Sathorn Pier is slowly thinning out. I lean back against the bench, waiting for the ferry with the orange flag to take me back to the hostel. The sky is breathtaking. The last golden rays of sunlight shyly slip through the crowd lined up for the boat. I reach out, trying to touch the golden light that drifts across the wooden bench in front of me. The tall buildings across the river are bathed in this gentle glow, embraced by the sunset. Small ripples on the water shimmer like a thin sheet of molten gold.

I thought I’d just sit here until the last streak of sunlight vanished, but then I realized, watching the sunset from the ferry might not be so bad. And I was right. The sky has now shifted to a purple-red hue. Darkness slowly creeps across every corner of the Grand Palace. Occasionally, a splash of water hits my skin, refreshingly cool. From the boat, everything looks like an oil painting by an artist who fell in love with the purple evening light. That artist must have been utterly carefree to have poured such a mesmerizing hue across the entire canvas before them.

The ferry I got off at was Pier No. 13. From there, I continued my long walk back to the hostel. My feet seemed to know every alley, every street here. Oh well, might as well just let them lead the way.

After a while, the bustling Khao San Road inevitably appeared. The noise, the chaos of the street made me feel suffocated. Everywhere around me were tourists. The constant calls, the blaring music, the loud laughter… At that moment, all I wanted was to escape to a truly quiet place. Choosing to stay here for three days was clearly a huge mistake. Places like this are never suited for someone like me.

Occasionally, when I passed by homeless people curled up in frayed blankets, sleeping peacefully by the roadside, or street vendors diligently working day in and day out, I felt the stark injustice of society. Perhaps these people don’t even get a weekend to relax with their families, let alone travel in a foreign country.

After finishing a plate of Pad Thai with egg for 40 Baht and wandering through a few souvenir shops to pick up some postcards, I returned to the hostel, showered, and continued reading Kira-Kira. This book was a favorite of a friend I met, who told me that every time he heard or came across the word Kira-Kira, it made him feel a little happier inside.

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(to be continued)