It's an airless, languid day and the mugginess permeates the third-class train carriage. Passenger heads nod to the rhythm of the wheels, while the ceiling fans refuse to turn. As the rice plains to the west of Bangkok give way to the houses of Ratchaburi, a sudden cloudburst spurs passengers to hastily close the carriage windows. The rain doesn't last.
The sound of a cock crowing signals the start of the day as hundreds of sellers raise their colourful umbrellas and stock their booths with a variety of fresh vegetables, fruits and meats from local farms.