None of us wanted to leave Phuket. If we hadn't had reservations in Chiang Mai that night, at least one of us would have climbed a tree and refused to come down. As it was, we had to keep moving!
We piled into
Baan Mai's little boat and headed back to Chalong Pier. Our minibus ride to the airport was about two hours shorter than the one into town; this was on a Tuesday morning and the island seemed deserted. Turns out everyone was at the airport, which was hopping. We had quite a bit of time to kill, so we got something to eat, argued about whether we should pay the insane prices at the internet cafe only to find out it was closed—you know, the usual travel stuff. A few hours and another quick and painless flight, we were back in Bangkok, waiting for our overnight train to Chiang Mai.
Eventually we'll learn for good, but Sara and I were still taking classes in not expecting things to be the same the second or third time around. In this case, we went way overboard talking up the overnight train; how comfortable it was, how it was our favorite way to travel, and I think Sara might have actually called the Japanese style cabin "charming". Somewhere along the way we greatly angered the travel gods, who repaid us with a train that was two and a half hours late, bitterly cold, and absolutely reeking of urine and the ineffective rest-stop chemicals used to cover up the smell of said urine. After waiting so long for the train, it was one of those classic moments in life when you realize maybe the train never coming would have been preferable to being stuck in a refrigerated toilet for fifteen hours. We tried to laugh about it, but the smell only got worse when you opened your mouth.
