I have a confession. I am insanely in love. With train travel.
The sound of the swaying wheels on the rails. That magical haunting whistle. The anticipation of arrival in a foreign land.
First train travel 2006. 20 hours. Second class sleeper. Penang – Bangkok.
I remembered. The beautiful wide-eyed Indian boy. With a ray of sunlight planted on his soft cheeks. The invasion of local vendors at stations. With cold drinks, dried pork, fried noodles and other delights in styrofoam packs.
I remembered. Romanticism fills the air. At the break of dawn. To the choo choo sound. And the sweet aroma of coffee from the snack car. A book in my hand. Watching the sun rise from the break of dawn.
An unforgettable ride.
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