Ba Domp Ba Domp

Burmese train travel. It is the only way to get around in Burma. Rob and I had seen Anthony Bourdain's Burma trip in Parts Unknown, and decided that a crazy bumpy train ride was a must-have experience. So we plotted our route and ensured we would take every train that connected the towns we wanted to visit.

In Yangon, we bought Upper Class tickets and boarded the train to Thazi. The train staff were helpful in locating our seats, since the numbers above the seats weren't always the actual seat numbers. We loaded our packs in the overhead racks, noting some of the locals had looped their bag straps through the rack to somewhat secure them. Could this be an indication of how bumpy the ride would be?

Sitting down, we took in the scene around us. Upper Class was a carriage fitted with old airplane seats, upholstery torn and foam sagging. The scuffed lino was littered with days', maybe weeks', worth of dust and sunflower seed husks. Surprisingly, the seats were comfortable, certainly more comfortable than the church pew seats in Ordinary Class, I figured.

The carriage filled with locals and their wares. Everyone had a seat, so  thoughts of cramped, overloaded trains were put to rest (until much later in the trip). A whistle and a horn blare, and we were off with a lurch. I looked down at my watch. 5pm exactly. And every train departure we were on thereafter, was punctual to the minute as well.

Slowly, we made our way out of Yangon, and picked up speed outside the city limits. Then the fun began. It started with side to side rocking, quite startlingly wide sweeps. The locals grinned and giggled with us. Whether the novelty had not worn off for them, or our amusement amused them, I didn't know. Then there was the bumping. Up and down, making everyone's chests heave rhythmically. Ba domp ba domp ba domp, like a twisted Teddy Bear's Picnic rave.

No wonder there are frequent derailments. After the stunning scenery of rice fields and other crops, backed by mountain ranges, disappeared into the night, our train stopped in the middle of the tracks. Leaning curiously out of the windows, we saw the outlines of men shining weak beams of light at the tracks underneath a neighbouring carriage. Probably a derailment, or as the locals affectionately call them, a "rail slip".

But half and hour later, we were off again. Ba domp ba domp ba domp. It lulled us to an unexpectedly restful sleep. Ba domp ba domp ba domp. Ba domp ba domp ba domp.

A video posted by Lani D (@ukelani) on Oct 10, 2014 at 8:58am PDT