The Sleeper Train to Chiang Mai

And so it began with a train - a sleeper train. A narrow metal tube housing tired and curious travelers, utilized during the night to couple both travel and lodging. This, in practical theory, potentially provides a more efficient usage of the most valuable resource for the traveler - time.

So, we sat in large, marginally comfortable seats, consumed overpriced, overcooked meals, played a stirring game of rummy that, if properly investigated at a later time, would certainly find some type of nefarious handiwork in favor of Aimie, and watched the dark, misaligned tracks move rapidly by through the well used toilet hole in the cramped bathroom.

Our sleeper car supposedly provided an artificially cooled environment. This was requested and thoroughly paid for during the arrangement period with the travel agency. But, theory often remains an abstract proposition in Thailand, leaving reality as a mysterious point of discovery.

The waking moments before and after sleep seemed tolerable. In fact, beyond acute consideration, the contained biosphere felt mildly refrigerated. I certainly wasn't a chilled cucumber - more like a partially spoiling block of cheese. But, I was at least good for another couple of days. Things flowed smoothly until we were ordered to sleep. Like rejected transformers, the lower seats were converted into beds, the upper beds were swung into position, and everybody was forced into varying states of slumber. We temporarily disobeyed, re-engaging in the rigged game of rummy. Aimie, quite predictably, procurred a solid victory, and we retired to our minuscule quarters.

This is when the air conditioning system seemed to have fallen into the surrounding jungle, and left the eager recipients to baste in a chili flavored sweat excreted profusely throughout the day. Once I closed the curtain, and segregated myself from the friendly train folk, the real roasting began. I laid my semi-chilled head on the pillow and by the combined powers of Jesus, Buddha, and Mohammed, passed quickly into a shallow, transparent sleep. But, this facade of slumber wouldn't last. My eyes flashed open as beads of scolding sweat rolled desperately down my face. What happened to the temperate climate we experienced earlier, I thought. My body felt like it was cooking inside, preparing some kind of organ stew. Maybe the temperature fluctuation was isolated, and they intended on serving my hair laden body as a delicacy for the next meal - slow roasted neandrathal with chili's and basil.

I was waiting for hidden doors in the side panel to open up and release spires of rolling flames. I shifted my position, turning from one side to the other, only to find that as my pulsating cranium touched the waiting pillow, the supportive cushion felt less like fabric and more like a wet sponge. This dire form of discreet torture faded in and out as I drifted through a very superficial sleep.

Finally morning arrived, too late for the pain incurred, and too early for the tiredness expected. We awoke to the chirping of an incessant, yet hospitable female conductor, ate a mediocre breakfast, and found ourselves in Northern Thailand.

Chiang Mai treated us well with temples, elephants, a cooking class, and a Thai massage. As four days quickly passed, we turned our attention to Laos, where a recommended boat trip would lead us to a wondrous city, and a memorable venture into the mountains.