The Train Ride East

Morning train to Ubon Ratchathani — about 9 hours.

If you ever want to see Thailand’s real side, this is the way. Green fields, tiny houses, temples flashing by, kids waving from the tracks.

We got second-class tickets, meaning no air-con, just fans and open windows. Still, it felt good — that kind of heat that makes you feel alive.

Tom was dying though. “Dude, my shirt’s glued to my back,” he said, waving his hat like a fan.

John sat by the window, taking photos nonstop. He caught one of a monk walking beside the tracks, barefoot, holding an umbrella. The light hit just right — gold robe glowing against dark clouds.

Pete was buried in his notebook. “Nam Kaeng Noi Falls,” he kept repeating. “The guy said it’s near a forest preserve, but locals call it something else — Nam Kaeng, which means hard water, or maybe cold water. Translation’s iffy.”

About halfway through the ride, we had a short stop at a small station. An old monk got on — frail, silent, eyes sharp as glass. He sat across from Pete and stared out the window. After a while, he spoke quietly, in English that sounded learned but rusty.

“Where you go?” he asked.

Pete smiled politely. “Ubon. Then to Nam Kaeng Falls. Know it?”

The monk’s eyes flicked to him, then to me. He nodded slowly.

“Some places,” he said, “should stay unmarked.”

We all kinda froze. Tom laughed it off, muttering something like, “Cool, Indiana Jones curse stuff.” But the monk didn’t smile. He looked tired — or sad — and turned back to the window.

When we reached Ubon that evening, rain had started. Not heavy, just enough to make everything shimmer. We found a small guesthouse near the bus station. Pete said our guide would meet us tomorrow morning.

I checked the blog stats before bed — surprisingly, a few people were already reading. Probably friends back home.

Tomorrow, we head into the jungle. I’ll post again once we’re at the village. Wish us luck.