I've Got A Ticket to Ri-ide

"I want you inside me."

Last Wednesday marked the rather auspicious halfway mark of my time here in Sri Lanka. Halving spent six weeks on the island once known as Serendipity, I found myself at odds over how to spend the remainder of my time in South Asia. Seeing as how my work projects were clipping along nicely, and that I had been able to maintain a relatively entertaining blog account of my time so far, I said screw it, time for a vacay!

Supervisor was kind enough to understand my need to travel the countryside and graciously agreed to let me take five days off from work, weekend included.  So I decided to hit the mountains! My plan was to start with a first-class-cabin train ride to the ancient Sinhalese capital Kandy, and then tour the ruins in the North at my leisure. I was told I simply must experience the train ride up in the observation lounge, a fantastic bargain at a mere $3.25 each way. My head swirled with images of dining cars, chandeliers and white gloved bar service. Wes Anderson's Darjeeling Limited was to be a sad echo of what splendor awaited me. After all, I had waited in line for twenty minutes to pay three American dollars for this seat, so I expected the world.

Too proud to ask any of the locals for directions, I stumbled around the Colombo Fort train station for a bit in search of my iron-railed chariot of luxury. Settling finally on the number 2 track as my most likely candidate, I attempted to decipher the loud speaker's message about train departure times to no avail and just hopped on board. After all, the rear-most car with the large windows was marked "Observation Lounge." Let the pampering begin!

Oh how shall I describe to you the majesty...ah yes, I know. Have you ever taken the Chinatown bus from New York to DC or Boston? That's pretty much what we were dealing with here, except there were half a dozen children running up and down the aisles and what I hoped were seeni sambol stains on the floor. No matter, I was still going to steal me a better seat than the back row aisle number that the conductor had clearly given to me because I failed to know, without ever visiting here before, to ask for the number 11 or 12 seat. Those were the sweet spots - right up front with a huge window directly looking out from the back of the train. I pilfered them up quickly and stared angrily at a book in the hopes that no one would bother me.

That lasted about four minutes. I was kicked out of my non-seat by a happy looking couple in their early 20s, clearly off for a romantic weekend together. I immediately decided I disliked them.  Aggravated but aware that the seats were never truly mine to begin with, I shifted back a row - still a sweet view out of the front win...wait, another couple asked me to move. Apparently this also adorable young couple also wanted a romantic view of the glorious Kandyan skyline. I decided I didn't care for them much either, but I obliged by moving back another row.  The view wasn't spectacular, but at least I had a window and the seats all to myself. Success, they name is Eric.

We got rolling just a few minutes after our scheduled departure, and we were off! Sure, I was missing out on the view and the seats weren't the magic I hoped they'd be, but at least I had the smooth ride up the mountainside for a few hours to kick back and WHAM! We nearly bounced off the tracks. Odd, must've hit a curve or someWHAM WHAM! This time we bounced a full four feet in the air and slammed back down on the rails, only to then be ripped sideways as we rounded a turn. At this point I remembered what the stoned nineteen year old roller coaster technician told me about the Great American Scream Machine when I was a kid. "Sure, the front car has the view, but that back car makes you feel like you're body is going to get ripped apart!" When I was twelve this was quite a desirable feeling. At twenty-nine...less-so.

No matter, I was a tough kid with a taste for adventure, so I grabbed a hold of the seat and bounced along for the next hour or so, too scared to pick up my camera lest it comically fly out of my hands on a rough turn. I positioned myself in a sweet between-the-two-couples-adorably-lain-heads view through the front of the window just in time to have couple number one pull the shade. Why in god's name would you pick the best seat in the house just to pull the shade? Oh I see, she wants to nap gently on his shoulder and he wants to coo sweet nothings into her ear without the distracting grandeur of the Sri Lankan hillside. I officially hated this couple. Undeterred, however, I settled in for the long haul and after a while I actually got pretty good at handling the rather insane bumps and tosses that the train had to offer.

Sure, instead of martinis they served nescafe and in lieu of prime rib, egg hoppers. After all was said and done though it was a fine start to the journey. I had arrived in Kandy safe and sound and my vacation was just getting under way. All in all, it beat the hell out of the Chinatown bus.