Travelling to Khong Chiam

As I figured that I couldn't get any work done over the weekend I headed to Khong Chiam with the hope of visiting Kaeng Tana National Park (part of the project I was researching) and go to Chong Mek border crossing to Laos. My angel Dhan helped me out again booking me a place to stay at a guest house with a contact of his, Yao.

I got to the Ubon bus center (de ja vu from my first mis-adventure to the forestry office) on Saturday a.m.. I knew I had to take a bus from Ubon to Phibun and then cross a bridge and get another bus from Phibun to Khong Chiam. I am sure you won't be surprised to learn that again - I took, well let's say the scenic route. At the bus center I was the hub of attention with my white skin, confused look, and big backpack. I went to the ticket counter and said Phibun? The guy wrote down 16, meaning track 16, Ok, but I went to track 16 and it didn't say Phibun (at least not with the other English alphabet written destinations). But the track 22 did say Phibun and wouldn't you know it the 24th track said Khong Chiam. So I asked, Khong Chiam? About the bus sitting there but the people said no, no, no. Then went to the one at the Phibun track, and said Phibun? No, no, no they said. I went back to the desk frustrated but found no clarity there.

Finally, another bus came to the Khong Chiam track and again I asked Khong Chiam? This time a "kha" yes of sorts, and although I wasn't convinced I got on anyway. I was just relieved to be en route - hopefully in the right direction. The ride was bumpy and the bus stopped seemingly wherever someone flagged it down, no bus stops. This was the countryside and the few small towns we rolled in and out of were dusty and looked like they had been there for centuries. The only difference between then and now were the rough paved road and the roaring bus barrelling through town.

Another lesson I learned was that driving in Thailand is like a video game. You can pass anywhere, and the bus did, around, before, after corners, hills you name it. Just gave a beep beep of the horn and off we went. As it was pointless to get nervous, what was I going to do about it? I sat in surrender and took in the countryside that was whooshing in a blur past my eyes: dried out rice paddies, thatch roofed buildings, skinny lonely dogs, people walking seemingly from nowhere to nowhere on the abandoned road, muddy streams, rows and rows of mono-culture plantation forests (which I later found out were mainly rubber trees), brillant scorching sun, and the dust of the dry season.

The ride (if I had gone through Phibun) should have taken 2 hours or so, but 3.5 hours later the driver, who must have been exhausted from driving a 1960's era manual steer bus with a steering wheel that jolted like a jack-hammer, pointed to me and said you...go...and waved me off the bus. Apparently, we had arrived in Khong Chiam.