Cambodia

We've tried two mornings in a row to see the sunrise at Utopia. We keep oversleeping. On our last day Max wakes us up like a dad and we emerge bleary eyed to a magnificant sunrise, it's beautiful. We've booked ourselves onto a morning bus to take us back to Phenom Penh. A tuk tuk collects us and drops us at into town, and from there we jump on the bus. Its a bumpy ride back to Phenom Penh. When we reach town we get in another tuk tuk and head towards the lake, which is where most of the back packer accommodation is. It is revolting. A dirty back street labyrinth of lanes with seedy hostels, restaurants and bars. We check out three hostels all of which are sub standard. Onto another tuk tuk to try near the river. Eventually we find a hotel, which although more expensive, the room is clean and we have cable TV and air con.We head out for some lunch and walk through a street market just up the road. Its a cacophony of smells, noise, people, baskets of skinned frogs still moving, catfish in baskets still flapping. The dirt of the street mingles with the strange and gruesome fare on offer. Mayhem, and not a bit like Tesco. We find a rather plush french bistro and treat ourselves to a good lunch. After a bit more of a wander, some markets and booking ourselves on the 'Killing Fields' tour for tomorrow, we slowly head back to the room for some chillage. We pop out for Happy Pizza in the evening, first pizza in ages and very good (we don't do extra happy which includes sprinkles of ganja!). Back at the room we end up watching Lord Longford and share a pack of chewy stale maltesers, weirdly quite good.

The following day we head off in a mini bus to the Killing Fields. Tragic and quite unbelievable what the human race is capable of. Sarah has read the book 'First they killed my Father' which is a young girls account of how the Khmer Rouge destroyed everything she held dear including loosing her parents and sister. It makes us think about how different Cambodia would be today if this regime hadn't destroyed everything it did? They destroyed the infrastructure, the cities, the temples, and exterminated anyone they thought intellectual, they destroyed millions of lives. Back in town we also visit S-21 an old school, which was turned into a detention centre where through barbaric torture and torment, countless people were sentenced to death. Its heart breaking.

Sarah leaves the next day flying back to Bangkok and then back to Brussels. I don't want to think about her leaving. We go out for a nice dinner of Vietnamese Pho beef noodle soup. We've had such a nice time. Its the first time we've spent so much time together since we both lived at home. Its been a much needed bonding session and long overdue. There are not many people you can 'just be' with.

Sarah I love you for being: honest, kind, gentle, sensitive, humble, trustworthy, a listener, vulnerable, analytical, caring, loving, understanding, a dreamer, quirky, reflective, un-complicated in the most complicated way, reliable, persuasive, conscientious, feminine, glamorous without trying, tidy and eccentric, offbeat and completely unique. I'm the luckiest girl in the world to have you as my sister.

Our last day is spent with a bit of shopping in the morning, I find a really cool antique shop and have to buy a few trinkets and what not. Back to the hotel and checkout. Then I have to go, I hate goodbyes especially this one. I get in my mini bus bound for Saigon. Leaving Sarah standing on the street outside the hotel in Phenom Penh, Cambodia. Its like a strange dream. I miss her terribly. Were we really there?!

Wet sodden Cambodia, the earth soaked in rain and blood. The soil is so rich in human emotion it has a soul. It nurtures a people who deserve this Earth maybe more so than you or I.

Sarah thank you for our spiritual journey.

xxxx

Up at dawns crack again and off to get a bus to Sihanoukville via Phnom Penh. You have to choose your path wisely, Cambodia's 'pave'- ments aren't. Pot holes, mud holes, and rubbish and general dirty obstacles. My flip flopped feet are mucky within minutes. The bus is there, but we can't get on yet. Sarah zips off to get some coffees. She comes back with two little plastic cups containing something brown and rather too viscous. The coffee is disgusting, gone off condensed milk maybe? They get left on the bus office desk for a bemused Cambodian. Onto the bus and off toward Phnom Penh, first another stop to collect more passengers. Hunger calls and I spy that our neighbors have wonderfully scented rice and grilled beef in neat polystyrene boxes. Sarah goes on a quick hunt and brings us back a box each. Fragrant steamed Basmati rice, chili seared beef fillet and sliced pickled green onion. Such a good breakfast, I'm so over muesli. Non eventful bus ride apart from the wooden sculpture panels which are placed flat on the overhead rack, bounce out because of the crap road, and nearly decapitate me. Everyone laughs, until they realise what hit my head. They all look at me with worried expressions, I'm OK though. Miraculously they sort of skimmed me; otherwise I'd be in trouble. We arrive in Phnom Penh around lunch time and have to organize a bus to Sihnoukville. The bus is in two hours, perfect for some quick Internet action. Phnom Penh is a super busy, with sights, smells and non stop action to rival any South East Asian city, it's bonkers. As we leave a rain storm engulfs the bus and the windows steam up. Rainy season, drat. The rain doesn't leave us all they way to Snook (Sihanoukville). It's dark when we arrive and onto a tuk tuk. The driver sort of demands that we go with him. It's quite tiresome the continual 'me', 'me', 'me', but I suppose they're only doing their jobs. We head towards the beach, down a road which is basically a river bed. Then a walk through some buildings and onto the beach. We find a sweet guest house on the beach front, and go to our room. A massive room, with a balcony overlooking the sea! A quick change and off down the beach for some grilled squid, fresh coconuts and cocktails.

Cambodians are ultra cool. They're all skinny jeans, winkle-pickers, smock tops and Hoxton mullets. But with their café au lait skin, almond eyes and their beautiful faces, they carry off heroin chic far better than us. We spend three days in Snook waiting for a clear day. It never arrives and rains torrentially from morning till evening. No beach, damn it! We conclude that beach and rain is just miserable, wrong in fact. On day three we head on to Kampot, which is a two hour mini bus ride away. Orchid Guest house becomes our home. A small hut in an orchid garden, with our very own porch with two uncomfortable bamboo chairs on it. The interior is superior tat. Neat pink frilly mossie nets, multi coloured reed matting on the floor, and flowery tasseled light shades. Kampot is a small sleepy town on a big river, which is actually an estuary. I'm looking forward to relaxing, reading, sleeping, drinks, food and hanging out with Sarah. There is a photocopied local travel guide available in Kampot, called the 'Kampot Survival Guide'. It describes a guest house located a way out of town, called Utopia. It sounds wonderful. So the next afternoon we jump on the back of a motorbike and visit. Utopia commands an idyllic spot right on the river surrounded by bright green jungle. It is made out of bamboo and has a number of nice decks to hang out and relax on, including comfortable bamboo chairs. It's run by a Romany German called Max. A tall handsome man, with a fit athletic body in his late 40's. He greets us warmly and makes us drinks from his bar. He is never seen without a ubiquitous spliff cantilevering from his lips. He is married to a beautiful Cambodian woman and has a young daughter and a baby son. All enchanting. Sarah and I resolve to move there the next day after a day out to Kep. Max insists I make a spliff for myself, which I happily do. I only manage to smoke half. The motorbike which delivered us, returns at 5pm to take us back into town. Up the dirt track, past orchards full of bananas, jack fruit, mangoes, limes and durian. Straight into a gaggle of guarding geese. Then onto the main road back to Kampot which is also dirt in a deep rust colour.
The sky is darkening and there are ominous clouds looming above. Parts of the road are worse than others, one section is so muddy its like fording through a chocolate river. Our driver expertly controls the motorbike so that we don't wobble off. We overtake a man on motor bike carrying what look like an RSJ (reinforced steel joist), the joist is perpendicular to the bike so he's as wide as a lorry. We drive into the curtain of rain head on. The road is better now so we drive faster. My soaked hair is plastered across my face, I cant do anything because I'm hanging on so tight, I whisper to Sarah 'does my hair look OK?!'. Then like a ghostly apparition five beautiful girls all in different coloured translucent rain ponchos cycle towards us. I don't care about being wet, I love riding on motor bikes, I love Cambodia and I feel alive! That evening once the rain has passed I sit on the porch of our hut and ponder things. The noises are fascinating. Frogs croaking, cicadas buzzing, tigers growling in the distant jungle (apparently!). I fancy some music and get my ipod. Can I just say that I really cant live without my ipod. I find Bugge Wesseltoft (not sure from where it came?). Anyway its perfect stoner music, eerie electronic noises which captivate the imagination. I feel totally at one with everything as I sit on the porch with Pascal our resident lizard who's above me stuck to the wall, motionless, maybe he's stoned too?.

The next day we head off on a tuk tuk ride to Kep (fresh crab by the sea!) and a pepper plantation. Kampot is famous for it's pepper, souvenirs are bought. Back to Orchid, which we liked apart from the mouse attacking the soap on the bedside table in the middle of the night. Check out and off to Utopia! We spend five days with chez Max et famile. They make us feel right at home. It's so chilled. All our stresses melt away with lots of lemon and mint shakes and good books being read lying horizontal. One night I go to bed and there seems to be what looks like tiny animal droppings in neat piles over my white sheets. I decide its woodworm poo. It happens again the next day, but the piles are in different places?! We have trouble going to sleep that night, for fear of whatever it is, falling on our faces while we sleep. Lying in the darkness we listen to the usual orchestra of wildlife and it seems, no so distant very noisy chanting? Then strange pop music and what has to be karaoke? It's a funny old world. Sarah falls in love with the dogs, and Max offers her Cleopatra to take back to Brussels, she's very tempted. We don't want to leave. Sarah and I really do find Utopia in Cambodia.

Starting a new bit of my blog:

'Is it just me?' - my feet get filthy wearing flip flops, no one else seems affected.

Hair report - nothing unusual.

The strange cult of ten Americans in a restaurant, who inform us that the food is really good. So we order a Cambodian specialities. The Americans then get their food, which is sandwiches and burgers.
We tell Max about Pascal, our lizard, Max introduces us the Adolf and Gertrude, his resident lizards.
The bar lady in her Audrey Hepburn dress and pearls, her feet precariously balanced on high healed leather mules, two sizes to small for her.
Sarah's drinking beer.
Cambodian pyjamas.
Going fishing, trying to pull out a fish and it nearly yanking my arm off, how big was the fish?!
Max's amazing tattoos.
His five years in a Japanese prison, what for we wonder?
The old fashioned ring pull.
Sarah's banana pancake addiction.
Sell Count of Monte Cristo for $2.50.

Sarah and I pull ourselves out of bed to get a taxi to the Western bus terminal. We get there, book the bus ticket and head to the bus. It's Sarah's first bus journey! It’s also far too early. We get comfortable, we each have two seats, and Sarah arranges herself in her area. Everything neatly stacked and ordered. She attaches a plastic bag to the back of her chair and says “rubbish bag” with a raised eyebrow. She is so organized, I love it. She doesn’t however have a neck pillow, so it’s nodding dog head for her. I do give her my spare eye mask, always useful. I try to stare out the window to watch Bangkok come alive in the hazy dawn. But I’m quite comfortable and soon I fall asleep. There is a loo on board the bus, so I don’t think there are any stops on route, very convenient. We both get some more sleep. The rubbish bag comes in handy for the tasty looking white bread and possibly cheese sandwiches we’ve been given (plastic fantastic). Then all of a sudden we arrive somewhere and stop. I assume it is a refreshment break, but we’re actually there earlier than expected. We grab all our bits, which because off sudden arrival aren’t neatly stored away yet, and fall into the bus station office to get organized. We’re all bags.

We need to get to the border and decide on a tuk tuk driver, after some persistent (Sarah won’t be broken), haggling over the price. Fifteen minutes later we’re at the border. It feels like we're in the Thai Wild West. The tarmac has disappeared and the road is reddish brown dirt. There are makeshift huts and covered stalls along the road. We are approached by countless hawkers trying to entice us on taking their offer of a taxi to Siem Reap. Still not sure exactly sure what we're supposed to be doing, we head by foot towards the border. There are no tourists lurking here so no one we can really ask advice of. We need to find a bus. We clear customs, with loads of Thais or Cambodians with children, chickens and pets in tow. Then we arrive in Poipet which is on the Cambodian side of the border, yuck. It’s been raining so the dirt road is now muddy and filthy too. The rubbish is piled up and stinks. There seem to be loads of giant casinos, all gaudy and they look awfully out of place in what is quite pleasant countryside, subjective point of view, maybe locals think they look good? We stop off at a cafe for a coffee and deliberate what to do next. I rename Poipet; ‘Dirty Vegas’. I don’t recommend it. I nip into a casino for a pee. It’s vast, full of gambling Thais apparently. It’s about 10.30am, what a scary world gambling is? I run back to Sarah, just as we’re about to leave the café, there is a loud explosion behind us. A man up a metal ladder has dislodged an electricity cable. The cable is free and dancing in the air like a bionic serpent. Sparks are flying, the man is OK, but not really sure how he’s going to sort this out? Sarah and I edge out of the café, in search of a bus. It appears we still need our passports stamped by Cambodian officials, although I thought we’d gone through customs? Into another office, here we meet two guys from Iceland; they are also trying to get to Siem Reap. It’s decided to take a taxi the whole way, bugger the cost, the road looks bad, and the wait for the bus is ages. We walk into town in search of a cab, and find one a little way in.

$60 for four of us on a three hour drive to Siem Reap. We cram our packs into the boot and are immediately overcome by a putrid smell. It is emanating from something wrapped in soggy newspaper, I think it’s durian? Hodi sits in the front because he’s the biggest. Sarah, Krissi and I, on fill the back seat. We head out of town. After five minutes the driver pulls over and halts the car by the side of the road. A young Cambodian woman, runs from a house and opens the driver side door, she gets in next to our driver. Remarkable! A tandem driver seat? They're both quite small so can just about fit on the one seat. We trundle out of town bursting at the seams, three in the back, three in the front, along the dirt road bound for Siem Reap. I wonder if his insurance covers this scenario?! The road doesn’t get any better. The further we get out of town the muddier it gets. We're ploughing deep grooves in the road towards Siem Reap. Either side are paddy fields which stretch as far as the eye can see. There are skinny boys riding water buffalo, which are submerged up to the belly. There are women in their gingham headscarves working in the paddy fields. The houses are all on spindly stilts and seem to float above the water filled fields. We overtake motorbikes pulling trailers in which twentyodd, Cambodians sit, balancing on sacks of grain and shopping. It rains and thick mud splatters the car from vehicles which overtake us. This drive is going to take a while. We've been in the car for over an hour, so the repulsive stench from the boot has tamed our noses and I hardly notice it. We stop for a fag and wee break. As soon as we stop, and smell the fresh air we realize how revolting the smell in the car is. It’s hard to get back in. Another hour or so later we hit a traffic jam. We all get out again and refresh ourselves with clean air. The road is so muddy and the car tires a quite flat, the car is floundering in mud. Ill be surprised if we'll be able to drive out of this. We all wait for about an hour, not really knowing what’s going on. Finally there is some movement. Unfortunately the wife of our driver has run off somewhere (we think to see what was going on). He looks frantically for her, we have to move now. Cars, trucks and motorbikes start to overtake us. She’s no where to be seen. He skulks about, calls her name, and asks passing cars if they’ve seen her, but no sign. Begrudgingly he gets back in the car and tries to start up. The wheels spin and we all hold our breath. Then they hold, and our driver edges the car out of the mud hole. Slipping and sliding all over the road we inch along. But where his missing wife? Then she appears up ahead. Our driver is furious, seething in fact. He has a few harsh words and they both get back in. He gives her no space on their shared seat, so her face is pushed against the window. She looks really uncomfortable. We’re all silent, not really sure what to do? They speak no English, we no Cambodian. Two hours, two more wee stops and some beers later we arrive in Siem Reap. The poor wife has been squashed against the window all this time and looks miserable.

Onto a tuk tuk into town, we are glad of some fresh air. I hope our bags and the contents wont smell of rancid fruit? We find a cheap guest house called Popular, which it is. $6 per night, window onto a brick wall, but own bathroom. Dinner in town at the Khmer Kitchen, which was recommended to me by Paul and Nicky in Argentina, really tasty. Siem Reap is a pretty town, rough at the edges but with some really nice shops and good feel. Drinks with the boys then bed. It’s and early start to see some Wats in the morrow.

We arrange a tuk tuk driver to take us on a two day tour of Angkor Wat and surrounding temples. Bayon and Angkor Thom on day one. Just beautiful. Spellbinding. Bayon is covered in giant Cambodian faces. It’s so beautiful. Then Angkor Thom is like something out of the Jungle book, with vines wrapping and enveloping its crumbling walls, and trees growing in and on the temple (tomb raider was partly shot there too). We spend a really nice day driving round lots of other temples and through wonderful forests and lakes. The weather is threatening and we’re pooped. We head back to town before dinner. Back at the guest house we sit in the bar sipping beers while the rain pounds the corrugated roof. Sarah has a quick freak out about the cleanliness (or lack of cleanliness) in our bathroom. She gets into bed, lying on her back, wrapped in her cotton sleep sheet. “sorry est, ich ekel mich uber alles”… translated, everything is yukky and I don’t want to touch it. We’ve opted for a sunrise at Angkor Wat, fingers and toes crossed that the weather will be OK.

Out of bed, a quick check on the weather, it seems clear! Our tuk tuk driver is waiting and without breakfast we head towards Angkor Wat. We arrive with many others. But by doing the sunrise, you do miss the big bus loads of tourists which swarm the site later on in the day. It is still dark but you can make out the familiar silhouette in the dawn sky. We find ourselves a nice position on the path leading up to the Wat, sit ourselves down and wait. Dawn happens so quickly and before we know it the Angkor Wat comes alive in front of us. It’s bigger that I expected and grander and beautiful! We move and stand in front of the beautiful lily pond to the left of the site. Still trying to figure out my camera, so take about hundred shots at different settings. Then before the sun is completely up we head into the temple. We spend a good hour nearly completely on our own. Like Machu Picchu, I can feel energy here. It’s a mystical place. The carvings are incredible and the scale and spaces are breathtaking. I’m so lucky to be here with Sarah. We sit in silence just feeling the place. Sarah is about to pass out because of no food. So we start to make our way out. Of the few people we do see we bump into the Icelandic boys and we spot a woman, 40’s ginger hair which new age traveler style is all braided. Sarah points out she looks exactly like a Catherine Tate character. After a few hours (five since we got up), we head to a stall outside, for a bite. I order Thai noodles, thinking about the yummy Thai noodles you get in Thailand. I get instant ramen noodles with a sachet of Thai flavouring. Sarah laughs at me. Sadly as I’m about to discover Cambodian food is quite sketchy. When it’s good it’s very very good, when it’s bad it’s horrid. After brunch a long ride (30km) to Bantrai Srei in the afternoon. This is a small temple, with very fine intricate carvings. Which they say must have been done by women. At this point we’re both pretty pooped and templed out. We order our driver to take us home. We’ve loved Angkor Wat and all the other temples. Our tuk tuk driver has been great, so we tip him well and he’s very grateful. We decide on route home that we might be able to manage a massage, so he drops us at Seeing Hands massage school. You get massaged by the blind! In fact everyone who works in the school is blind. I lie on my front and drift away. Incredible, I’m semi aware of a thunder storm outside. An hour of pure bliss. Afterwards we get out our wallets and pay. $10 for the two of us. They are very trusting because no one can actually see what we’ve paid. We head back to the guest house freshen up then hit town for some shopping and some nibbles.

NB:

Catherine Tate woman – is it her?
Banana milkshakes.
Sarah’s boob being bitten by a pony.
I have a fungal toe – cant talk about it.
Cold showers + Booth sisters = pathetic. I have to properly psyche myself up for about 10 minutes, Sarah the same.
Sarah’s moist loo paper – yeah now we’re talking.
‘Rubbish bag’ – sorry too funny!
Our blow out in Siem Reap – get me out of this shop Sarah.
Buying three big wooden sculptures for the wall, which we now have to carry.
It’s quirky and bizarre, but so are we, Cambodia rocks!

Early bus to Phnom Penh...

Love my sis xxxx