Boat, bus, train, taxi, tuk-tuk… Public transport is sometimes anything but relaxing or comfortable. Yet it is the best way to explore the world and to meet new people
24 hours of public transport to cover 800km: leaving an island, going from one golf course to another, crossing a border and finally reaching a cozy bed: travelling by land is truly an adventure!
Today, I leave the small island of Koh Lipe, in Thailand, to reach Kuala Lumpur, in Malaysia. It is a journey of more or less 800 km.
I’m still not over my cold, the last two nights have been very short and I’m exhausted, shivering and weak.
Anyway, it will take a few boats, buses, trains and cars but at the end of the trip, a beautiful room, as comfortable as it is expensive, is waiting for me: a thick mattress, cushions, warm water and calm…
Let’s go ! A tuk-tuk to the beach, a longtail to the floating platform, a speed boat, an hour and a half trip to Pakbara harbour.
The trip is extremely noisy and uncomfortable. We are shaken like salads in their baskets. In Pakbara, a minibus is waiting for us and takes us to the Hat Tay train station, two hundred kilometres away, where I’ll catch a train at four o’clock. A night train, direction Kuala Lumpur. Finger in the nose.
The train station of Hat Tay is surprising: very few people and only 1 train consisting of 2 wagons at the platform
When I ask where the famous KL train stays, the answer is: on gate number four. Opposite I advise a train on a single track, on the right, on the left, no other platform in sight. Have I misunderstood?
No, the other trains are behind the first one, to get there you have to go through the parked trains. No passage over the rails, underground or overhead.
The platforms are largely occupied by whole families sitting on the ground. All the women are veiled, sometimes completely.
The fourth track at last. Two wagons, not one more, are waiting there. I advise a group of young boys just to be sure. Yes, indeed, it’s him.
I take my luggage inside, find the bunkbed at the end of the wagon, number thirty-nine, at the top, it’s very simple. It doesn’t matter, I finally lie down on the small mattress. I love this bed, it has a small window in the shape of a horizontal porthole that allows to look out over the landscape while lying down. It’s a bit like in the cinema but better.
Just one stranger in the whole train: that’s what makes a lot of people curious!
The boys I meet on the platform wave at me, turn around a bit, curious but not mean at all. Tourists on this train are quite rare, so when a visitor comes along, it’s a bit of an attraction. I’m all alone in my square. But now I hear people coming. From the top of my perch I can see three small veiled and colourful silhouettes, chirping like sparrows, arriving in the carriage. I wave to them. The very instant we meet, their faces light up: “Hello! nice to meet you!”. They shake my hand, ask my name and introduce themselves in turn: Didin, Aki and Vieta. They are Malaysian and are returning home after visiting the family. None of them is taller than 1.50m, but Aki seems to have the authority of a giant, a simple glance in the direction of the boys, who are definitely very curious, makes them run away. They don’t let them get close and chase them away like thieving pigeons.
I understand that they are very relieved that their next-bed neighbour is a woman. What surprises them the most is not my nationality, it’s my age and especially the fact that I travel alone. She finds it very, very brave.
The train starts with heavy blows and I feel immense joy despite the fatigue of the journey. It will soon be dark and it will be time to sleep.
But before we can enjoy this fabulous sleeper and regain our strength, we have to cross the border. Who says border says customs. We will have to take all the luggage down from the train to go through the control. All of them. Sigh.
I still have about two hours to regain energy before the train stops at the border.
Two hours even in a train that seems to be moving at 10 km/h, it’s very short when you’re chatting
So no sleep, my little neighbours never stop asking me about travel, journeys, life. The atmosfere is super funny and relaxed.
The train stops with a panzer delicacy and the sound of Godzilla exploring New York. This is where we cross the Thai-Malaysian border.
Here are my companions who are getting restless and getting out all their stuff. They have so much that they can’t carry everything. It’s kind of chaos inside the wagon now. I help the girls the best I can and carry her few luggages.
Officers with caps, smiling, nice, make the passengers get off the train. It’s a bit of a rush but the passage to immigration is without any problem: stamp, stamp, stamp, smile and “welcome” on top of that.
But I am starving. Impossible not to get back on this train without a packet of chips, a royal paella and a big steack, yes to take away please!
There is a cafeteria here, but to get my gourmet menu I have to go up two floors without elevator and we are loaded with bags and suitcases.
I knock on the door of a glassed-in office, right next to the stairs that lead to the paradise for empty bellies. A friendly man answers me. I ask if I can leave my luggage for a few minutes so that I buy something to eat. He hastens to accede to my request without forgetting to tell me about his favourite French footballer whose poster is pinned on the wall: Zinédine Zidane.
Seeing my daring rewarded, my little neighbours can’t believe it! Aki would like to do the same but she would never dare to approach an unknown man ! So I go back to see Mr Zidane. He says Ok. But Vieta and Didin also find the idea great. In a few minutes my saviour’s office is transformed into a bazaar. The nice civil servant is a bit overwhelmed by the situation but he keeps smiling and lets us go and get our victuals.
I rush to the cafeteria to spend my last baths on chocolate cake and spicy chicken legs. Alas, they don’t take Thai money here
So I give my last thousand bath note to Vieta who will change money for everyone. Travelling with several people has sometimes a lot of advantages.
Time passes quickly, we still have to wait for the change and especially the service. The cafeteria is crowded because in the course of the journey, the train has lengthened by taking about ten wagons and it is a tidal wave of hungry passengers waiting to be served at the same time.
When my turn comes, I order at random showing what’s in the huge steaming pots and it’s the race. The train whistles impatiently and we panic when we see it moving on the platform.
The tiny Aki is completely overwhelmed by these countless suitcases. Each one is doing her best to help the other. The stationmaster, who laughs at our screaming and panic, brings us back like skipping school girls to the train that is just waiting for us to leave.
Breathless and sweaty, we return to the right wagon under the laughter of the boys who help us as best they can. Relieved but hilarious, we share the suitcases and bags that seem to have multiplied. We just seat on our beds, the train starts.
I can’t believe the kindness of the Malaysians. They are simply unbelievable. Immediately ready to help and smiling sincerely, really caring
We settle down to feast, everyone gets together, my little neighbours and the boys who are now getting closer. We transform the sleeping wagon into a restaurant. It’s time for a feast, an impromptu picnic, sharing. My boxes are full of things so spicy that they are difficult for me to swallow. Luckily, everyone shares their provisions and no one goes to bed hungry. We’re all tired, it’s a dark and blissful night, tonight it’s full moon. Lying on my plastic mattress, I look up at the skies where the moon plays hide-and-seek with the clouds. The landscape scrolls through the small window. A little later in the night, the sky of Malaysia seems to be caught in a titanic storm, the horizon is streaked with lightning. It is a wonderful feeling to be in the belly of this heavy and noisy train, hurtling at full speed through the fields, braving the torrential rain and feeling reassured, calm despite the tremors, safe as a child in mother’s arms.
The train is as slow as a vintage steam train. It will take us ten hours to reach Kuala Lumpur. The train stops at all stations and every time we get off to walk a bit, chat with the other passengers, the stationmaster, smoke a cigarette or catch a cup of tea at the stand on the platform.
This trip is superb and despite my feverish state I find it hard to sleep so much I am captivated by the film that scrolls by the window and the life that is stirring outside at each stop
Around five o’clock in the morning we finally arrive at a huge, brand new station full of escalators. Kuala Lumpur. A name straight out of a tale of a thousand and one nights.
The train empties, everyone hurries. In this foggy morning, it’s time for farewells, reunions, phone calls, taxis. All the passengers separate and scatter to find their lives, families or homes.
Final stop : Kuala Lumpur. On the way to a comfortable bed
Hep taxi! On the way to the hotel. Kuala Lumpur is facing a downpour which she has the secret of: a deluge. The streets of the city are flooded and I wonder if we are not going to stand in the middle of the ford because the water almost reaches the engine level… The driver laughs when he sees my worry, in Kuala Lumpur it rains halberds almost every day.
It’s still dark, under the rain, the city seems immense, sprawling.
It is almost six o’clock when I pass the lobby of a good quality hotel nestled in the heart of Bukit Bintang. The last few months have been amazing and I need a rest to regain my strength. The first impression is good, I arrive in a very beautiful place. Exotic wood, white walls, an almost Balinese style and all the modern comfort.
I introduce myself. After a few seconds of unbearable suspense, the friendly receptionist finds my name on his screen. Yeah!
My happiness is short-lived because, alas, he lets me know that my room won’t be available until around two o’clock in the afternoon.
No bed before 2pm! It’s sound like a death penalty
I almost fall off my seat. I negotiate firmly and I threaten to sleep on the floor if he doesn’t find me a chair, a couch to slump on. My legs are like cotton, I’m so drained that I’m not even sure to remember my date of birth. In front of my decomposed face, my eyes red and swollen, another employee comes to the rescue and both of them are waving in Malay.
They then offer me a room from which the clients left very early this morning. It hasn’t been cleaned but whatever, I’m even ready to sleep on the carpet if I have to. I go into the room wich actualy is a super expansive one, i’m upgraded, as if I was going to meet Saint Peter there. A huge white four-poster bed, thick and soft mattress, no less than four pillows for me alone, a dream bathroom, clean, modern…
I remain blissful in front of the divine beauty of an immaculate toilet, the magnetic tenderness of a roll of toilet paper. And then there’s the shower: clean as a newborn baby, a real poem.
This is the end of the journey. More than 24 hours on the road
You may find this journey complicated and tiring, but even it is sometimes difficult, it stay my favorite means of locomotion when I’m travelling. I find the plane deadly boring that deprives me of an essential thing: the discovery of a destination in small steps. Taking the time to approach it, seeing the changing landscapes, the day going up and the night going down. By plane, I would arrive too fast, disoriented, out of step, badly prepared!
In addition to this gentle approach, travelling by public transport continues to be my official provider of adventure and encounters. I wouldn’t change that for anything in the world.
