18:45   I cram far more than two days’ worth of clothes and supplies into my rollie suitcase and head for the train station. Hey, you never know what situation will arise where you may need your hair curler and hair spray.

20:15   The train starts rolling fifteen minutes behind schedule. Not bad, I think.

21:00   I’m reading my book quite intently when a girl comes up to me and says, “I go sleep now!” and walks away. The seats have to be converted into a bed, and I climb up to my top bunk. I read for a bit, then pop two Dramamine and pass out.

06:30   I wake up feeling pretty well-rested but look at my watch an realize it’s way too early to be awake. But I’m starving, so I mow down the honey roasted sunflower seeds I’d stashed in my purse and go back to sleep.

09:20   I wake up again to someone calling out something in Thai. I worry that I’ve missed my stop, but then realize that’s impossible because it’s the last stop on the line. A gentleman sitting adjacent to me informs me we’re two hours behind schedule and won’t be arriving until 10:30am. This means I won’t make it to the Thai embassy today, since usually they close for visa services at noon. I’m annoyed and put my pouty face on.

10:00   I head to the dining cart for some breakfast. Even though I’m not hungry, I reckon it may be my only chance to eat for most of the day. Besides, I could really use some coffee. I order the only breakfast that sounds edible. The coffee that accompanies it is so horrible I can even swallow it, and the juice is a freakish neon orange colour, so I don’t touch it either. The meal itself is rather unsatisfying, and now I am feeling rather dehydrated.

11:00   After paying the extortionate $42 for the Laos visa, which I’m going to make use of for all of two days (why are Canadians forced to pay the most expensive Laos visa fee? What did we do to these Laotians?), I grab a minivan with a bunch of other tourists into the town centre. I find myself at a Canadian-owned café with free wifi and spend most of the afternoon there.

15:00   I meet my host, Patrick. Patrick is also a member of Couch Surfing, and I had written him a last-minute request the day before to ask if I could stay with him. He’d replied that he’d been grumpy at work lately and had been refusing couch surfers, but since my references were so great (yay!) he would take me in.

15:20   Patrick’s place is fantastic – not far from the centre of town, and freaking huge for Asia (not to mention spotless – he has a full-time maid, who also cooks dinner!). Plus he’s a really laid-back, cool guy, and much better looking than his profile picture revealed. We head to the local gym, which is actually of very high standard, where I pay 55,000 kip (about $5) for a workout and the best massage I’ve had in ages.

19:00   Patrick and I have eaten, chatted, and are now watching a Ricky Gervais movie on his projector video screen. This visa run isn’t so bad! I think.

09:15   I’m at the Thai Embassy, ready to give in my passport and run off to my favourite café. I take a number: it’s 121. They’re calling number 34. This might take a while.

10:00   They’re only on number 80. Why didn’t I listen to Patrick’s advice and get here right at 8:30??

10:22   They call my number. I’m at the front of the line. The administrator practically throws the papers I hand her back in my face. “You put address Laos and address Thailand!” she spits. 

“But I don’t know my Laos address and I don’t know my Thai address!” I retort, thinking for some reason she might take pity on me.

She looks at me blankly for a moment, “You find out,” she says simply, taking the next person’s papers.

I stand there dumbfoundedly wondering what to do. I don’t have Patrick’s mobile number on me (mistake #1), and even if I did, my phone doesn’t work in Laos (mistake #2). I don’t know Patrick’s address (mistake #3), and I don’t know my home address in Bangkok (mistake #4), nor do I have any way of getting this information before the office closes in an hour and a half (mistake #5).

So, I do what anyone else in my predicament would do: I make shit up. I vaguely remember the name of the hotel Amy and I stayed at when we were here three months ago, so I put that down as my Laos address. I believe I wrote: “Souphaxane hotel, near fountain” and then for contact information I wrote: “Patrick Durbin, math teacher” (I later discovered his last name is Durkin, but never mind). For my address in Thailand, I put 31 Sukhumvit, since that is where my friend AJ lives but obviously I don’t know his house number so I’m just hoping that that will pass. The only correct information I put down was my Thai phone number, but that only sometimes works here.

12:00   I call Patrick and explain the situation. He reassures me that it is extremely unlikely that they will actually call the hotel to check that I am staying there, but I am still worried.

13:00   Patrick and I discuss the worst case scenario, and come to the conclusion that if my visa is denied tomorrow, I can always apply again on Thursday and fly back Friday (as I have to work Saturday). But then Patrick says, “Can you just apply again if your visa is denied?” and I’m not sure of the answer to this, so now I’m really worried.

16:30   We head to a local bar for happy hour. No sense sitting around and stewing about the visa – nothing I can do about it until tomorrow. 

The curling iron did in fact come in handy for a night out on the town in Vientiane. We are headed to a Shakespeare play, which at first sounded ominous to me, but Patrick reassures me that it’s going to be quite funny.  

18:30   We walk our slightly tipsy selves to the Novotel, where the play is taking place. I meet the teachers he works with and we all sit down to watch a strange and funny man talk about Shakespeare for two hours.

21:00   Patrick takes me to another bar where we swap funny couch surfing and travel stories over some more Beer Laos, while looking across the canal, into Thailand, which seems so close yet so far away.

09:00   I wake up slightly groggy but manage to get myself back to my café for some quality internet and coffee time. 

12:55   I arrive at the Thai embassy a few minutes early, only to discover an insanely long line-up of tourists waiting for the visa office to open. I trudge to the back of the line and regret not having put on sunscreen.

13:03   The line starts moving before my skin even has a chance to turn a shade darker. Before I know it, I have a number: 100. Great.

13:45   Finally, my number is called. I’ve been chatting with a guy called Emir who lives in Montreal, but is originally from Bosnia and is on his way to Thailand. You really meet interesting people when you’re traveling. Emir seems like a good chap.

13:47   YAYYYYYY!!! I got the visa!! All that worry and stress for nothing. Silly girl. Now I just have to book my train ticket home…

14:15   I manage to find a travel agent and book my train ticket, but they inform me I have to be back at their office in an hour. 

15:20   I unload my bag from Patrick’s truck and give him a big hug and hurry off to the travel office. The bus is waiting for me. It takes half an hour to get to the train station, where we get our passports stamped, and receive our tickets. 

The train doesn’t leave until 17:00, and the station smells like beer.

18:20   The first train was only 15 minutes, and now we’ve been herded onto the second one, which is meant to take 12 hours. I’m sitting in my barely-padded seat, staring out the window, wondering why my phone still doesn’t get reception even though I’m officially in Thailand.

23:45   I’ve been trying to sleep for two hours but it’s so goddamn hot in this carriage, and when I close my bunk curtains so that the creepy man in the corner doesn’t watch me sleep, the fan doesn’t hit me. 

06:30   A man walks by calling out “Bangkok, Bangkok”. Wow – we’re actually on time. I get my things together and hobble off the train into the smoggy, bustling, exciting glory that is Bangkok. I’m home!

 

 

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