It was time to go, the jolly Czecks left just before us, the Russian youngsters had left the day before and, as usual all the inadequacies of the place had begun to niggle us.
The town was already awake, teeming with life. The pavement cafes were full and the working day was well underway as we left at 7. We passed several motorbikes with a whole roast pig in a box across the back seat width-ways. There was fancy paper on their ears. Strange.
There were two boats and lots of local people on the quayside as we unloaded the taxi. We walked to the fast boat and, with a roar and a surge we were off. They gave us a small bottle of water, several black bags and put on the most gory film possible at a screeching volume. It was about an hour before I was sick, despite my travel bands, and then I dozed. Before I knew where we were we were disembarking on the quay at Rach Gia, the mainland of Vietnam. Now we had to find out how to get overland to Cau Doc, up the Mekong, to catch another boat to the capital of Cambodia, Phnom Penn. It proved to be amazingly easy.
When we got off the boat we were trailed by two motorcyclists who offered to help. We were with an Aussie couple who were heading the same way. We did not want the help of these two but they insisted in accompanying us. We went to a travel place on the corner and they came in with us. We wanted to know where the bus station was. After asking the girl to ring a taxi for us a mini bus turned up with- Chau doc on its screen and some Vietnamese people in it!!! I called the others. We agreed a price 120,000 dong (4 pounds) each for the four of us and we were off again. The Vietnamese were all shunted into the back seat!
We had all our bags scattered around and the drivers assistant/conductor grinning broadly at us connected two bare wires and a desk fan blew fiercely at us. The air-conditioning! One of our party was in the front with his feet on a box of frozen chickens! We travelled along quite happily dropping people off and picking up others. The usual tooting every time you passed somebody was accompanied by the conductor screeching loudly at the cyclists or motorbike riders. Maybe it was good that we did not understand what he was saying. (He was actually the only person I heard shouting about traffic. There are no rude signs or angry looks, even when someone crosses your path suddenly. Vietnamese drivers seem to just steer smoothly around everything, totally non-plussed.) Th conductor/guide even boxed the ears of one young schoolboy who was sitting minding his own business on the back of his friends bike. I was sorely tempted to push him out of the window more than once!!! He was the only thing spoiling the journey! The open windows provided a welcome breeze and the homes gradually became 3 sided with hammocks hanging everywhere. We enjoyed the villages and green countryside. At the end of 3-4 hours we were dropped at the side of the road where a couple of guys with a different style of tuk-tuk waited. As the bus sped away the conductor said, "Bus no go into town. You go tuk-tuk, short distance", and he was gone.
The Aussies clambered on board with their luggage and were off. I walked away leaving Lee with a dilemma. There was no way I was going to ride in a wheelbarrow! I would not fit, I could not get on and I want a bit of dignity! We walked about a mile and a half into town accompanied by the tuk-tuk driver who was talking to Lee. I had a face like thunder and now it was a battle of wills that I was not prepared to lose. The tuk-tuk driver seemed to think that Lee would pull his wife in line as per local customs- no way Jose, as they say! Lee was explaining why I would not get in and a motorbike appeared. All three men were asking me to get on board. I was appalled that I was being dictated to by the locals. I told Lee to carry on and I would catch him up but he would not go. This made me even madder with the bloody tuk-tuk driver who actually accompanied us to the hotel despite my remonstrations that he should go. That we did not need or want his services. I won. I walked there as I knew I would!
We booked into the hotel that we had chosen from the Lonely Planet Guidebook, not the one the tuk-tuk had tried to get us to go to! (Score high five!!) After a passable meal we explored the local market. It was mostly food stalls and it was teeming with life. We wandered around getting bread, spread cheese and oranges for our boat trip through the Cambodian border, the next day.
The next morning another 'wheelbarrow' arrived to take us to the boat. We walked behind it like a funeral procession while our bags had a ride!!!! Fortunately the boat looked good so this was soon forgotten.
As we moved steadily out into the middle of the yellow Mekong river I noticed a wooden boat that was low in the water. It looked like a dug out tree trunk! An unconcerned mother with her child sat at one end, whilst a man rowed standing at the other end. In the middle and older woman was busy bailing water with a yellow container! No one looked concerned!
The boat to Phnom Penn was like a Thames cruise boat in style. Visibility was good though the banks seemed duller than Vietnam's. There was less green and more mud. People waved from the banks as we glided by. Fishing seemed to be the main activity although there were cattle and water buffalo on the banks of the river, here and there. We moved smoothly with a spray of water at intervals and a fabulous breeze. At passport control we were inundated by Vietnamese children hoping for a sale, selling, water, cans of pop, postcards and crisps. At the Cambodian side we had to get off and go to the passport office. It was all quite relaxed and another visa joined the others in our passports. The rest of the journey was passed happily chatting to Hue and Ceri, who were on an eight month honeymoon trip! They had married in April, like us and were great company. I miss my women friends. Lee and Hue talked football.
We had been told that this particular weekend was the National Water Festival, when thousands of Cambodians came into town and competed for a money prize. Suddenly we were wondering whether we would get accommodation! Our boat moored suddenly at a muddy bank and I noticed water buffalo and cows being unloaded one at a time just feet away from us. Apart from that there was nothing. One enterprising taxi-driver who had been alerted told us that the boat had been diverted to this bank because of the races and that the town was just a short distance away. Hue and Ceri were quick enough to engage his services and we shared the journey into the town of Phnom Penn with them asking for a room at their hotel. Fortunately, there was one. Lee nipped over the road to go to the bank and was offered a woman! Fortunately, he declined. He was then offered a tuk-tuk!
We had a shower and headed, with Cerri and Hue to the Foreign Correspondents Club, on the water front where we were able to view the fireworks and floats at the close of the days races. There was a real carnival feel and the streets were heaving with people and food stalls. Later we caught a four seat cyclo back to the hotel. A great day was had by all. (A cyclo is a four person truck towed by a motorcycle.)
On day two we decided to book our bus out of there to Siem Reap. We were going to see the Genocide museum in the afternoon. In the morning we attended to more domestic matters: Hue helped us to sort out the camera and we spent a pleasant evening in the sports bar, avoiding the crowds.
The next morning we were a bit hung over but packed and left the hotel at ten to eight. We headed to the Asia Hotel to catch our coach. Instead we were taken to the local bus station to get a local bus. It looked a bit of a crate and we were ushered on with our bags. It was to be a 6hr journey and our bags were round our feet but, despite this it proved to be delightful. The passengers were friendly and looked at us curiously at first but smiles and gestures soon helped us to communicate. The bus was cool and we watched a theatre comedy act as we sped along. It was quite funny, and very popular with the locals. The sometimes screechy singing was a bit tough though!! The scenery was pleasant, green fields, raffia huts on poles, boats, hammocks and markets. It lacked the intensity of action and colour of Vietnam, but held its own charm. We stopped twice as the coach had no facilities what-so-ever. The second stop was at a village known for its deep fried spiders of tarantula proportions. I had read something about this but I had had no idea that I would come across it. I had gone off to the loos and seen stalls with pineapples on them but I had not seen the piles of fried spiders and grasshoppers nearby!! Walking back to the front door5 of th coach I had noticed a local, in tradional squatting pose, put one of these monsters near his mouth and bite off a leg or two. Lee's attention had been drawn to this by my expletive! On the bus an otherwise normal seeming teenager had held hers, dad, of couse, between here left forefinger and thumb. She then broke off one leg at a time and stuffed the morsel into her mouth, finishing with the thorax and then the abdomen!!! I was both enthralled and horrified. The rest of the journey continud without incident and we were greeted by a moto-driver holding up a huge paper with, MR WILLIS, on it. We piled in and had a 15 minute journey to Siem Reap Riverside Hotel.
We were greeted by smiles and shown our room by an enthusiastic young man, who smiled manically. When I asked why the television was on the floor he said, "New extension, room not finished! I suddenly heard the sound of drilling. I looked out of the window. I could only see the front of a local house with a child playing in what lookd like a pile of rubbish. I put the curtain back.
"You have another room I asked?" We looked at two rooms at the front but from neither could I see a swimming pool. We chose one, threw our bags in, and went off excitedly to telephone Jean to wish her a happy birthday. The line was engaged. We checked to time in England and ordered two cold beers. I said to Lee, "When we booked this hotel, were we shown a picture of a pool??? He said, "Yes." I was confused. I mentioned it to the desk clerk who said that this was a sister hotel to the one with the pool. I was so elated about our happy chat with Jean, and the perfection of our timing, that I said no more. We washed up and strolled into the town. It was glorious around the old market. There were craft and clothing stalls, cafes and restaurants and a myriad of above-board massage parlours. We decide to eat at The Red Piano. There was music and a wonderful liveliness that was missing from where we were staying. The food was good but ther were so many mosquitoes and little black flies that it becane difficult to eat. We did not go back there!
The next day we appeared downstairs with our backpacks at 9am. They were surprised. I said that we had paid for a different hotel, one with a pool. They said that it had been full,
"Then," I said, "you should have explained!" They offered the pool but we left saying that they had lost 6 days of our custom. They looked quite shocked. Even the cyclo driver that took us into town tried to find out where we were going. We stopped off for breakfast then booked into The Ivy, this was grubby, despite being reccommended by the Lonely Planet guide. I asked for the sheets to be changed. We found a supermarket and strolled happily around the town. It felt good to be in the middle of things.
The people are very friendly, bigger than the Vietnamse and still prone to making size-ist remarks which can get you down. They do have a good humour and seem to be family orientated. However, there are problems with poverty although there are a number of projects trying to help with this. We saw a film of a project involving some of the street children. It was interesting and informative. We saw children as young as 5 in charge of small babies, one was crawling on a rock in the ruins, about 3 feet up. The brothers and sisters were sitting nearby playing!!!! There are also land mine victims who sell books to support their families.
One intriguing thing is that the buildings are being done up but they seem unable to create steps of an even size. It is so strang because your sense usually guage steps, not so here. The flight of steps leading to our current room on the top floor are almost vertical and all different heights. The pavements are high and uneven too. Nothing is flat except the land!
(NB This is the next day. Just as I was about to publish the computer flipped its lid and about an hours work was lost. It had done something similar the day before so I left it!!!!!)
Angkor What???? On Wednesday we visited the national heritage site of Angkor Watt. I had checked out the details and written down what we wanted to see. In the morning we could see Angkor Thom, a collection of Buddhist temples, that included A dramatic carved face on an archway, the temple of Bayon with 32 columns, each containing four carved faces, a terrace of carved elephants, the terrace of the Leper King. After that we were going to look at the glorious Ta Prohm, a temple that was being claimed back by the jungle. Huge silk and fig trees were throwing down roots that were wrapped around the stone in a real stranglehold. Lara Croft was filmed here. Finally, and gloriously we were to see Angkor Wat as the sun set. However, we made the mistake of picking a cyclo driver with very little English. We got dropped at these places according to his route and we saw the least important for the longest. We walked endlessly through woods, got lost and could not find the places that we were looking for, and, worst of all, by the time we got to Angkor Wat we were so weary we could only do a bit of it as we had run out of energy and enthusiasm. It was a thoroughly spoilt experience. Our driver had wanted to drop us 2 kilometers from Angkor Watt but we refused to get out until he took us closer. Ah well.... The journey there and back was good.
Tomorrow we are off to Laos. I wonder if they can make good steps???
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