Day 320: The start of the line

We packed up and left the hostel at 7.30am. The first tuk-tuk to stop for us offered us a pretty good price without us having to haggle so we climbed aboard. As we drove, Kate began to get a bit worried as the route we were taking didn't chime with her recollection of walking to the train station, but then we stopped to drop off a little girl who had been riding up front in the cab – apparently we were doing the school run first. When we arrived at the station I could see what Kate meant about the feeling of calm there - there was even a special place set aside for monks to sit. Our train was already there, but before we hopped on, I ran outside the of station to try to find some snacks and something for us to eat for breakfast and lunch, coming back with some fried chicken and pork, and some sticky rice. After we got on and found our seats, Kate and I jumped off, much to the girls' consternation, to take a few photos of the train tracks – the start of the line.

The journey passed largely without incident and we arrived in Bangkok at about 8.30pm - an hour or so late. Out front there was the inevitable crowd of tuk-tuk drivers all loudly competing for our attention, but we had already decided to get a taxi to our hostel. Only none of the drivers wanted to take us. Apparently none of them recognised the name of the hostel, and one after the other they summarily dismissed us. Finally, however, we found an old guy who agreed to take us, even though he too clearly didn't know where the hostel was. As he drove, he kept peering at the map Kate had pulled up on her phone, and soon enough we were on the right road, just the wrong bit of it. We had to take a detour around a one-way section and when we got back on 'our' road it looked as though we must be pretty close to the hostel, so we got him to drop us off, walked across the road and there, at the entrance to a little alley, was a sign to the hostel.

We checked in, check out the room – surprisingly nice, with a polished-wood floor and lots of wooden furniture, an en suite and air-con; certainly better than we had been expecting. It was after 9pm by now and the hostel restaurant had closed so on the recommendation of the guy behind the desk we walked up the road to a restaurant called Harmonique – a lovely place set in an old colonial-style building. The entrance took you through the roots of an enormous fig tree. The food was good, but a lot more expensive than we've been used to, and the music was bad – completely destroying the ambience. We had obviously snuck in just before closing as we were the last to leave and the staff were turning off the lights as we paid and headed back to the hostel.