Travels with Zen-Aida » Observations

Bangkok to Penang: 24 hour International Express Train

zda — Sun, 29 Nov 2009 17:28:36 +0000

Nowadays, the internet is the source of instant information and this is especially true for travel news. I forget how I found www.seat61.com but in no time, I was intrigued by the very detailed account of how to get from Bangkok to Butterworth, which is the railway station to get to Georgetown on Penang Island in Malaysia. Mr. Mark Smith, a British career railywayman, has set up this site about trains worldwide in such an easily accessible manner, that I was instantly convinced. Why not, it is only 24 hours from point A to point B? And this is not any fancy Orient Express Nostalgic Luxury train. This is the real thing, second class and all.

In Bangkok, I had therefore purposely taken a hotel in Chinatown, nearby the Hualamphong Station. Basic and clean is the simplest description I will use for the “Hotel Chinatown”, but then, it was also only 30 Euro/night. And it had air-conditioning, essential in 34 Celsius humid heat. Walking to the station in the morning to get my ticket, I passed through the recycled car parts district – if ever you wonder where the nuts, bolts and other small scrap metal ends up, well, here it is, neatly piled up in umpteen corners of little shops – and was soon standing in the large domed hall of the main train station. The benign portrait of the King of Thailand gazed upon the leisurely activity of travellers getting their provisions in the twenty or so little shops. This must be one of the few train stations where there are real orchid plants adding a touch of class to the otherwise very functional architecture of such places.

After getting the information from the internet confirmed by a pretty Thai employee speaking quite good English and told to get my ticket at the foreigner’s booth nr. 1, I happily paid 1210 Baht (about 25 Euro) for a lower berth, second class (the only direct wagons) on the International Express Train Nr. 35, leaving at 14:45 on track 5.

Punctually, the 10 wagons slowly made their way through the suburbs of Bangkok for a good hour. New, glittering skyscrapers could be seen in the distance, but we pass vast expanses of semi-industrial, half-finished constructions.

My wagon was very clean but seemed easily 30 years old. Every two seats facing each other converted into two berths – upper and lower – with space for luggage in a metal contraption on the aisle. Let us just say that the name of the designer of this layout will be lost to us in history and we will not miss him, alas.

A train steward came around, checked the ticket and proceeded to refund 20 Baht to each passenger in this wagon: We had no air-conditioning, only old-fashioned but efficient fans. In good Chinese train tradition, vendors came along selling drinks and various kinds of prepared foods. Slowly, conversations started up between the travellers – a group of three English young women finding much to share, coming from northern Thailand and going to Kuala Lumpur, a Spanish couple on their way to Borneo, a Chinese man talking endlessly on his cell phone, quiet Thais – and we all settled down.

Eventually, the train gathered speed and we start to travel through open but fairly populated countryside. Not much is cultivated yet, just tropical greenery accented by various types of palm and banana trees and, unfortunately, small waterways largely full of refuse. About two hours out of Bangkok the rice fields start and will be dominating the scenery, along with banana and palm tree plantations throughout the journey. Often I also see wild bougainvillea, frangipani and hibiscus. The houses – many huts – reflect a very modest lifestyle, poor even in parts, shanty town structures that often occur close to rail tracks everywhere in the world.

Darkness comes soon and with it, delivered to my seat, a dinner which I had ordered from the steward earlier: Chicken curry on rice, a vegetable dish and miso soup, a slice of fresh pineapple for dessert, all for 170 Baht (3.50 Euro). Freshly prepared and quite tasty. After dinner, the steward makes the berths with sheets, a pillow and a coverlet – all fresh. Blue curtains are hooked in and give a high degree of privacy and definitely a “Some like it hot” feeling. I expect Marilyn Monroe as Sugar and Tony Curtis to pop out of a top berth any minute...

By 9 p.m., the wagon is absolutely still. I am comfortably ensconced in my berth and can give myself over to the swaying clickety-clack, clackety-click as the train speeds over the surely still British-built tracks. Every now and again I peek out into the darkness and see astonishingly many lights of small villages and towns. As this train is an International Express, it has limited stops and speeds through most empty stations. The moon shows the silhouettes of palm trees and the dim lights from the train throw a ghostly shadow on the tropical countryside.

It is barely dawn at 6 a.m.. when the steward comes around with the one-choice breakfast (also ordered the evening before and delivered to the berth): two eggs sunnyside up, a small sausage, one each tomato and pineapple slice, two pieces of toast, butter and pineapple jam, a non-descript yellow juice and tea or coffee (120 Baht, approx. 2.50 Euro). It is time for a cat’s wash-up, meaning a quick moist wipe will have to do the trick this morning. By the way, the toilet facilities are well, yes, clean-ish, and there are two sinks with running water for the entire wagon.

The time between 7:30 and 9 a.m. is spent at the Hat Yia Junction station with Thailand-Malaysian border formalities, meaning that everyone has to debark with all their belongings and exit Thailand and enter Malaysia. Don’t complain, just do it.

Eight wagons go off in other directions and we continue with two wagons and a different, smoke belching locomotive. The stewards have taken the berths away and cleaned up of sorts and left. There is a new Malaysian crew and no service. Even the water supply of the wash basins is gone. There are more stops, locals disembark, others get on.

The countryside seems more cultivated: Papaya plantations and tree forestations alternate with the rice paddies. Even the palm trees are mostly in orderly rows. The green seems even more intense – we are, after all, in the wet tropics.

And then, suddenly, the end of the journey approaches: We arrive in Butterworth only 30 minutes later than scheduled. This train station is totally charmless and functional. The best thing that can be said about it is that is connected by covered track to the ferry terminal to cross over to Georgetown.

Would I have given up this journey for the comfort and speed of a flight? Never! After all the way is as much the mean as the end....

China: Life in Beijing

zda — Tue, 17 Nov 2009 23:44:19 +0000

One of the great megalopolis of this world, Beijing never ceases to surprise me. Even though the number of skyscrapers has easily quadrupled since the first time I visited in 1995, you can still find quiet corners where it seems as if time has stood still. But believe me, it hasn’t. Not here. If anything, time has been torn down and has been rebuilt to look as if it is standing still (but this time with running water and electricity).

It seems to me that only when you look into the eyes of the old people and see enlightened wisdom and then into the eyes of the very young that you find unspoilt innocence. In between these two extremes of life, there is only the rush and surge of business and making money that moves today’s 17 million Beijingers.

I had the privilege of being in Beijing during the week-long festivities celebrating the 60th anniversary of the People's Republic of China. The photos of the floats and all the people strolling in the evening in Tienamen Square reflect the atmosphere of pride in being Chinese and general enjoyment at being at the center of things.

Sydney: Views at every turn

zda — Sun, 16 Aug 2009 07:01:05 +0000

At the risk of stating the obvious, Sydney really is a beautiful city. Wherever you turn, a panoramic view opens – of the harbour, a cove, a bay, an inlet, a beach, a bridge, a point, a head, a park, a dip, a summit feature, etc. etc. And from very many places – a glimpse of the iconic opera house. Couple that with many tidy residential neighborhoods full of leafy trees, trimmed lawns and Anglo-American villa-style homes (Northshore) or a more dense urban landscape (Eastern Suburbs) with smaller houses featuring fancy lace-like wrought iron balustrades, dotted with condominium highrises commanding, no doubt, spectacular harbour, sea or downtown skyline views and you have a city that rightly ranks in the top desirable lifestyle cities worldwide.

I haven’t had much time yet to see the official sights (other than the opera house), but have had the pleasure of spending a weekend with friends who have two delightful little girls, 4 and 6 years old. As a result, I’ve visited several playgrounds with lots of different equipment: monkey trees, swings, spirals, chutes and other apparatus that I wouldn’t even know how to name. Gone are the days of just a plain (mostly dirty) sandbox and a swing as the ultimate in playground equipment. Now even the ground surfaces are child-friendly, made of some sort of bouncy rubber material so that even if a child falls on it, chances are the hurt will not be as dramatic.

On this particular weekend (I was told many neighborhoods have events of this kind), Balmoral Beach hosted a Mudgee Region Promotion Festival. The Mudgee region is not far from Sydney, just a few hours drive on the other side of the Blue Mountains and home to excellent wines, vineyards, olive oils, etc. So what better occasion than a popular park / beach area to set up several dozen tents showcasing the regional products with ample wine degustation on the spot (with real wine glasses I might add, no plastics here!). Add to that a guitar/vocal duo, a petting zoo for the kids and lots of different ethnic foods, sunshine and voilà – great atmosphere!

I never expected Sydney to be so hilly – San Francisco and Seattle, eat your heart out! Although there is a grid system in place, the geography of the various hills and harbours makes it difficult to adhere to. There are endless dips, slopes, curves and cusps to maneuver. Even though Sydney has an extensive suburban train system and certainly many bus routes, it remains a car-based society. In order to cope with its approx. 5 million inhabitants moving through a bottleneck that makes up the CBD, the freeway system is sophisticated and woe unto you if you happen to land in the wrong lane – instead of a tunnel you end up on a bridge going tangentially in a different direction very easily. Toll booths have been eliminated and now an e-tag beeps everytime a toll is collected with an automatic debit system in place. The bus system, however, is in serious need of modernization and updating. Not only are the buses old-fashioned, the entire ticket system can do with a major revamp – right now it is confusing, not well signposted and generally not consumer-friendly – meaning that I had several very frustrating experiences. Even a provincial city such as Valencia was better organized, let alone Munich! My Sydney friends corrobated my comments, saying that the city is slowly working on improving the system.

All in all a delightful start to my exploration of the Australian continent!

Auckland: City of Views

zda — Fri, 24 Jul 2009 11:38:43 +0000

While not the capital of New Zealand, it is the country's largest city with 1.4 million inhabitants (roughly 31% of the entire country's population). The central city area is located on an isthmus between the Pacific Ocean and the Tasman Sea, boasting two harbours on two separate major bodies of water.

I had been told by many people that Auckland is not a nice city to live in. Well, so far, I have spent two weeks here and have no complaints other than the wintry weather. Clean streets, good bus system, more coffeeshops and small Asian restaurants than anybody can keep track off, an astonishing number of shops and commercial spaces for rent/lease/sale, approachable and very friendly people, good accommodations. But if the landscape is to be green, then it must rain. And raining it is.

On the few sunny days so far, I have dashed out to take photographs. One of my first outings was a harbour cruise. I am a sucker for skylines and marine vistas, so you will have to indulge me.

The New Zealand Film Festival was the best show in town, so I took in several films in the magnificent Civic Theatre (see separate article "Elephants in the Sky").

Now I am off to investigate the rest of the North Island, especially some of New Zealand's over 100 hot springs!

Pet peeve – literally

zda — Mon, 13 Jul 2009 11:52:24 +0000

What is it about people who get pets, mostly dogs or cats, and then dispose of them like so much garbage? And then these poor animals have to fend for themselves, scavenging for food in garbage cans, procreating, getting sick, maybe even spreading disease. Not to mention having to stake out and defend their territory.

Somehow, these bad human habits seem to be more prevalent in southern and eastern European countries and I have just witnessed them in rural Argentina and everywhere I visited in Chile, including the capital of Santiago. Invariably, I was followed by one or more stray dogs. Almost instinctively these poor beasts knew that they would find an empathetic soul in me. When I asked local residents, they shrugged and acknowledged, yes, it is a problem, but what can be done about it and looked the other way. Municipalities seem to do nothing or undertake a yearly poisoning-and-cremation-spree. Local pet shelters or programs are hopelessly overworked, underfunded and understaffed - if they exist at all.

It was especially bad on Easter Island. There are approx. 4500 year-round residents on the island and easily several hundred stray dogs. As a concerned animal lover, it breaks my heart to see these dogs, free to roam but unwanted and unloved, kept away from properties by persons throwing stones after them. The nightly barking contest was especially obnoxious. An American resident living outside the town of Hanga Rua, who shelters as many dogs as her family can handle, had just had three dogs (from a total of five) poisoned in one day by an ill-willing neighbor. Her small children were devastated. She told me of an American vet who had come five years in a row, volunteering his services, especially to neuter the animals, bringing his own equipment and medicine. The authorities, instead of welcoming these services, set up so many bureaucratic hurdles, that he ended up quitting his altruistic actions.

What is to be done? There have been attempts at trying to get university veterinary clinics to donate at least basic vet services, especially neutering. How successful these efforts are, I cannot say; but from the present sheer number of stray dogs in Chilean cities and on Easter Island, I don't think very. At any rate, these animals deserve a better life.

Easter Island: Paradise in peril