Some days ago we left Chiang Mai to start the first leg of our new adventure. After an emotional afternoon saying goodbye to Thai mom and dad, Michael and I began the process. Always late…always rushing…it’s the jetsetzero way and I’m coming to terms with that.
We blasted around town picking up some last minute supplies before dropping our motorbikes off at the rental spot and made our way over to the travel agency we had arranged our bus tickets through. 12 hours later I stepped off the bus in Bangkok wondering if I had even really slept at all. Back into the grips of hell. Back into the machine that had chewed us up and spit us out like a used up wad of 5 cent chewing gum. Only, this time, we knew what the fuck we were doing. We had three months worth of Thai experience under our belts, and were back to give Bangkok a square kick in the fish balls. “We ain’t scared of you mother fucker! We’re from Saraphi! Say something!”
33 hours later.
Feeling beat up and abused. I’m pretty sure that Bangkok still gets the last laugh. Michael and I are staring at each other on the subway.
“Are you ready?”
“Yeah, I am ready.”
The train slows as the muscles in my legs tense. Re-situate my bags to ensure the best mobility and improve our chances.
…
…
GO!

We exploded through the car doors like two clunky clydesdales making an escape from the glue factory. The train had already left. As we approached the station, motorcycle taxi drivers took note of our hurried hoofing and soon were being whisked away on the backs of two underpowered motorbikes with the promise that we’d make it to the next train station before the train did. We laced through tiny gaps in traffic like fat fingered construction worker trying to thread a needle. The driver flicked the throttle leaving our untimely demise only inches in the past. Three train stations and 800 baht later (400 over the quoted price) we were finally boarding the train headed towards Penang, Malaysia.



19 hours later.
At the Thai/Malay border. Standing at the customs and immigration desk. I’m being informed that I’ve overstayed my visa by 1 day. 500 baht fine. Cash. To be paid immediately. ATM’s on the other side of the train station. Most of the other passengers are already back on the train. FUCK! Well, that’s what the emergency $100 dollars I’ve been carrying around for 5 months is for. Open the envelope where the money has stayed for the duration of my time abroad. IT’S GONE! Ok, don’t panic. Be cool. No wait, this train’s going to leave your ass. Ok, now panic. Start rambling. Tell the officer that you don’t have enough cash. She wants to know how much you have on your person. Nervously finger five bills out of your cheap china town wallet. 120 baht and the 3 US singles that I promised to keep as a reminder of home. An older officer comes over and looks at the bills like I just wiped my ass with them and placed them on the counter. “That’s it?,” he asks. The first officer starts writing a ticket. Another officer joins the conversation. What the hell is that ticket for? She hands me the ticket and my passport. “Go to customs.” I go to customs. They barely check my bags and tell me to get back on the train.



16 hours later. We’re at our destination in Penang, Malaysia. Chilling in Farid’s apartment, who we met on couch surfing. In less that 36 hours we’ll be doing it all over again. Making the second to last leg of our journey to Australia via Kuala Lumpur. I was going to run around town, check out a national park, maybe do some hiking or something like that. But now that I think about it, my ambitions might just stop at the pool downstairs.
Since Chiang Mai: 4 motorbikes, 2 different subways systems, 1 overnight bus, 1 Train, 1 Tuk Tuk, 1 Ferry boat, 1 city bus, and a ride in Farid’s car(does that count?).