we are on the train, leaving Chiang Mai bound for Bangkok. its sad to watch these mountains that I've grown accustomed to dwindle from rounded giants to countryside hills. its amazing to watch the countryside manipulate from overgrown jungle to cultivated farming, its very pretty visually. as the sun falls the sky and landscape take on shades of dusty pink to an amazing Easter dark purple. now the jungle is turning into darkness, vines reaching out to the train windows, leafs growing by the second.
the night train was quite the experience. having only one other night train experience that took place in Europe, my new experienced compared little. our train was mint green and full of grumpy Europeans and one particularly grumpy service train man in tight stained navy pants. it seems that a few of us were to be paired in one way or another with one of these said group of Europeans. Elena, was blessed with a grumpy and analytical french man who did not believe in the use of deodorant, and like to share this fact as often as he could with her by waving his pits in the drafty window next to her.
around 7pm this service man in tight pants started pulling down our beds, and to my delight, the accommodations were that bad at all, we had newly sealed sheets, pillowcases and blankets. the windows were put up and seemingly boarded. but as Brittney and i were to find out, that as these windows seemed to be boarded, they in fact weren't really at all. in our tired delirium we attempted sleep by playing what we'd find the to be popular game, "name that smell." as the night progressed we were able to smell everything on the outside of the train while it was moving and when it was stopped. i learned in the morning that Brittney is particularly good at smelling water, andI'm particularly good at smelling urine and rotisserie chicken.
oh, and my favorite part. : we had made friends with four UK girls from our trekking experience in Chiang Mai, and these girls also happened to be on their way down to the southern islands. they were seated one section over, between small pockets of grumpy Europeans with meanly protective eyes on their baggage. when the beds had been lowered i prepared for bed, brushed my teeth as best as possible given i was on a moving train, and started saying my goodnights to the girls. a grumpy eastern European, my designated paired European, cleared his throat particularly loud and as instinct would have it i turned my head in his direction. in the middle of a sentence i stopped dead as my eyes tunnelled down into his "cabin," through the designated light crack he had made for his novel, beyond to the bulbously fat croissant-like naked body mimicking and failing at the position of a Greek god. and i think i saw his wiener. i cant be sure as there was a lot of fatty skin everywhere, but i think i saw it.it was really very awful.
an accidental photograph with the culprit himself, taken long before "the incident."
i watched a lot of futurama that night.
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