Its feeling all very exotic, if not a little luxurious, and as the train pulls away from the station, letting off a high whistle, a clunk of wheels on the track and we are thrown back by a harsh jolt, a surge of thrillness jolts through me. We’ve lashed out and brought an overnight first- class private- sleeper- cabin train ticket to travel the southern length of Thailand to Bangkok. It’s not quite the Eastern & Oriental Express; granted the diesel Engine looks about 500years old and the cabins could do with a good lick of paint and padding but it certainly has the mysterious feel of the Orient Express, especially when a crazed Irishman runs up and down the first class corridor yelling “V.J…. V.J… where are you?” with much knocking on private cabin doors and opening and shutting. We receive a knock on ours and a polite “Ahem” from the first class purser and his assistant. “You V.J” he asked. Before we can answer the Irishman yells to them, “He looks like me. Big and white, like me”. We reply politely to the Purser and his worried looking assistant, “No, not V.J” but the purser is a diligent chap, motions to the Irishman to take a look for himself and verify we’re not his V.J. (Maybe V.J is hiding on purpose from his mate) I almost expect Inspection Poirot with his cute little moustache or Miss Marple with knitting bag in tow to suddenly appear. We have no idea whether the wayward V.J ever appeared or what happen to him and the last we heard of the Irishman was his leaving the First Class for the Second Class and beyond, his crazed voice echoing out “V.J… where the foook are ya man ”.
Part of the fun of travelling is the actual journey to the destination and over the past month there had certainly been some memorable journeys. Whether it was a bouncing jeep jaunt through lush tea highlands of Cameron or a spine re-aligning boat ride to the Perhentians or rickety trishaw cycle dodging traffic on Penang, these will be remembered with fondness. Not so our mini-bus hell-ride from Penang to Phuket.
