Bangkok to Kanchanaburi

Saturday, April 26, 08
7:43 - at platform 13, South Terminal, bus 81, waiting for 7:50,when we will leave for Kanchanaburi. Bus again! Lord, I remember the last time I was on a bus...
Out the window, a little boy has turned his back to his mom, pulled up his shirt and his Mum is giving him a good scratch. He pulls his shirt up higher. He returns satisfied to his seat.
I am wearing a new pair of shorts which I purchased last evening. I have been down to one pair of pants since my motorbike accident 3 weeks ago. This pair is cotton, below the knee, which is very popular around here. In Thailand, I really need to learn how to bargain. I do ok with taxis, but clothing is different. Also, I purchased a new umbrella and a used Lonely Planet guide book for Thailand from a street vendor.
My clothes are smelling clean, or cleaner than they were, anyway.
A woman take the seat next to me, I'm in the very front, right side behind the driver, and offers me a candy. It turns out to have the flavor of a very strong cough drop.
Off and on the bus seems to be at given points. Yet, flagging down the bus, or getting off where you want, is acceptable. This seems to be true for all of SE Asia.
10:50 - We have entered Kanchanaburi bus station where I have left the station on a saamlaw, a pedal tri-cycle driven up up front with a bench seat behind. Destination is Sam's House (Guesthouse). What a gorgeous spot - bungalows on Mae Nam Khwae Yai, or River Kwai, as Westerners will remember it from history and the movies. Bungalow 7 is costing me $20/night. I'm treating myself. What do I get for $20? - AC, top sheet and blanket, TP, private bathroom with a tub. A tub, haven't seen one of those in a guesthouse since I started, 2 towels, no soap. Great fun! I pay for 2 nights and may stay a third.
Here's something I've seen all through SE Asia - buy a coffee or tea to go and it's handed to you in a plastic bag with a straw.
Kanchanaburi feels more like what I'm used to - what I'm comfortable with. Being a history buff, this suits my fancy. My imagination runs wild in such a historic spot. With only three bananas for breakfast, I sit at a street cafe and down 2 glasses of iced coffee. If I weren't awake before, I certainly am now.
I walk to the War Cemetery, which occupies a space adjacent to where the Japanese POW camp was located. Why does a war cemetery evoke such strong feelings? A name carved in marble - immortalized. I know nothing of this man except what is written - name, rank, death, age. Yet, he now is a part of my memory, my living.
From there, I spend time walking through the Museum dedicated to the Death Railway which connected Burma and Siam. There is only so much suffering that one can take. I leave early.