Before I start describing our journey, moan by moan, rip off by rip off and discomfort by discomfort, I want to say what Cambodia means to me. Basically the country has been with me, almost all my life. The first time I heard about Cambodia, would have been the second half of the 70s. Cruel jokes entered our playground "what's the smallest book in the world? A Cambodian cook book" or "whats the fastest animal in the world? a chicken running through a Cambodian village". I laughed but became mindful of the country which at that point was going through hell on earth. Jump forward to the 1980's and my father now seperated from my mother, and still at this point taking the time to visit us. On the way back from his grief hole in Plymouth, he described the film he watched at the pictures recently; The Killing Fields. Maybe he was surprised by this but I dug further wanting to know more. As soon as we had a video recorder, and a video club membership The Killing Fields was possibly the first film I rented. It is still my favourite movie to this day. If you don't know the story, it covers the friendship of New York Times journaliat Sydney Schanberg, and his colleague Dith Pran as they cover the turmoil in Cambodia from the war bursting its Vietnamese banks to the cruel Khmer Rouge regime, where they set about a sudden change to agrarian socialism throughout all Cambodia. I won't tell the story of Cambodia during the 1970s, but I will say it's a story which touched my heart. I wouldn't know until my first visit in 2002 to Koh Krong, Phnom Penh and Siem Reap what a beautiful people they are. If racism has a reverse then I'm guilty as I see Cambodians unable to do any wrong. I am much more forgiving or even happy about begging children, tuk tuk hawkers, any hawkers, rip off merchants if they are Cambodian than any other nationality. How do I attempt to justify this? Because they have been through so much and they have come back from it smiling. No hatred, no huge efforts to hunt down war criminals from the Khmer Rouge regime, just positivity and forward thinking. There is buddhism everywhere in Asia, but not until I deduced this religion was a foundation to the peoples acceptance of the genocides and hunger, did I wave goodbye to christianity for good. This was underlined with 9/11 and Hurricane Katrina, huge undeserved tragedies made by man and god, but the blame game and blood for revenge that followed one or both of these examples disheartened me. It told me so much of western fatalism, and so much more about eastern attitudes. So maybe I have to thank the Cambodians, what I deduced about them was the final nail in my christianity coffin, thats why they are my favourites.
Now back to whats now become a cliche play by play of our journey from Bangkok to Siem Reap to Battambang where I am typing this now.
We waited at 7:30am at the New Siam Guesthouse for our driver to arrive and whisk us off to the Thai-Kampuchean border. Around 8am he arrived with two other travellers on foot. He took us to a van parked on the main road outside the maze of streets which is Rambutri, the nicer part of Banglamphu, Bangkok. We switched vans once inside Bangkok, before setting off and taking what seemed eternity to get out of the traffic heavy city. Once free of congestion and when he was able to put his foot down, it was like another driver completely. His method of overtaking, which I think is almost standard in Asia, is to drive as near to the rear bumper as possible of the vehicle you wish to overtake (in Britain we are mindful that the overtakee could suddenly hit his brakes and leave you fully liable). Then as you cannot see, you edge the whole vehicle out onto opposing traffic to take a look if there is any opposing traffic coming. I said to Sarah "I can't work out if our driver is really good or absolutely terrible". Sarah replied "Terrible". She was right of course, the man's driving manner clearly identified him as chugged up to the eyeballs on crystal meth. The fact that fast quirky driving is not economical was possibly manifest by our driver stopping twice at the petrol pumps in a 4 hour journey.
As with my last visit, and I may make many comparisons to this, the bus wasn't a through bus. It stops at the border and you pick up a new one the other side of immigration in Poipet Cambodia. Eight years ago this would have been because roads in Cambodia were dirt tracks full of underside scraping pot-holes. This should no longer be a reason, there is a new reason why there are no through buses all the way from Bangkok to Siem Reap; there is now a government run monopoly on the lucrative business of running travellers from the border town of Poipet to Siem Reap. You'd think that would end the scams at the border, but not at all.
Let me tell you about the scams eight years ago and this will explain why I was on my guard. Now firstly, unlike this year, we were not dropped off at Poipet, even though the guide (scammer) swore blind that it was. I looked around and I knew the Poipet border had a bridge and a gate with a model of Angkor Wat clearing saying "Kingdom of Cambodia". I made my partner of the time aware of this, and maybe others heard also. I was becoming a danger to the scam. Then they asked that we pay Bhat 100 for a "Stamp" on our visa. I said to the group that this was bullshit. I thought first of all this was just because we were buying visa on arrival. However, those in our group already possessing visas were asked for the same trumped up charge. The scammers had enough, I must be removed. I was called into an office surrounded by Cambodian immigration officials. All parties were unable to speak a common language so it seemed, leaving my question of "is there a problem?" absolutely mute. Conveniently (for him) our guide took on the role as interpreter. I turned to him, now helpless, and asked what is wrong? His reply "they say your passport is not right, don't worry I'll sort it out?" Not right I thought, its issued by Her Maj only two years ago, here's a driving license as extra proof. The immigration officials treated it with disdain, just bending the license. If they couldn't speak English, only the photograph would have made any sense anyway. They let me have my documents back and I realised what I must do. I must happily pay the Bhat 100 for a "stamp" whatever that was, and I must accept that we are in Poipet, and anything else that will get me into Cambodia. The bus on the other side, was a pick-up truck which was not ready for us until 7pm at least. The ride was tough with an American girl sat on my ankle for the 4 hours, but was it scenic. We arrived at a guesthouse at about 11pm in Siem Reap, a guesthouse chosen for us. In anycase where else would we go at 11pm a night, disorientated, tired and without blood-flow to my leg? The guide would make a huge commission off our chosing of this guesthouse. This digression into eight years ago, was the reason I was to be fully on my guard this time crossing the Cambodian border.
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| At the Thai/Cambodian Border |
The border changed a lot and seemed more modern, including finger printing. We waited for the rest of the group as the guide asked us to at different points. Before the leaving Thailand, the guide seemed keen for us to all go to the ATM and withdraw Bhat to turn them into Riel inside Cambodia. I saw the birth of a new scam having read an updated guidebook. In the book it advises that guides will advise you that you are required by law to have Riel on you in Cambodia. His advice was a variation on this scam, that things cost much more in US Dollars (which is by far the first and ideal currency to have on you in Cambodia). He said he was just wanting to help us. Now inside Cambodia and even trying to pay for things with Riel, there is little difference in price when you convert to USD. The guides insistance continued at Poipet bus station, almost pushing me by my back to the currency exchange to buy Riel. The advice the guidebook gives, and I can now confirm; dollars are the best and there are many ATMs now in Cambodia, expecially in Siem Reap. The ATMs will give out dollars. The rates at Poipet will be extortionate and the guide obviously takes a cut.
We were also encouraged to take a taxi for Bhat 400 saving us hours waiting for the bus, and encouraged could read harrassed. The only thing we did purchase from these scammers was a room in what looked a reasonable hotel in central Siem Reap for $12 a night. This proved to be ok, even if we had to pay upfront, which I was cautious to do.
My point in the details on the border crossing, is this is something you have to go through. Its a sure thing that you will be scammed or attempted to be scammed in some way. The factor could be based on your greed in trying to save a buck, or impatience and trying to get where you are going faster, or more likely your fear that you could be stuck at the border waiting for the next bus back to Bangkok. In any case, the advise is say no to anything you are not sure about. But do it with a smile, and hold back the anger.
The roads to Siem Reap were no longer pot holes, it was now a smooth national highway. This took the charachter out of the journey for me, and I longed for the pick up truck whizzing through rice paddies. The bus drops you off 6km outside of Siem Reap (this distance changes depending on which guide you speak to and what he is selling). We caught a Tuk Tuk into the center, found our hotel then went out for food. Siem Reap had really changed, and I was much less familiar than I thought I'd be. The downtown Siem Reap is characterised by roads forming a triangle with a night market at the base. The Red Piano (owned by or once owned by Angelina Jolie) is still there but much more neon than the last visit. In fact all the neons are new. Street 8, as it used to be called is now called Pub Street, and this has become Siem Reap's Khao San Road. I honestly didn't like what Siem Reap had become. Then again my distaste that this time I have to share my experience with much more people, betrays my knowledge of history. Cambodia's major cities, which include SR, have always attracted Westerners from being a French colony up to the 1970s. It was only Pol Pots evil regime which put the brakes on that for a couple of decades.
The following day 16th August (oh look I've been 41 for a whole month now), we tried some cultural learning stuff. Our day started with what the guidebook said was a photography exhibition named 'Friends without Borders'. The photography is sold to help support a childrens hospital. On arrival the photography had been taken down to make way for a needed childrens ward. That said, we were offered to look at a video explaining paedeatrics in Cambodia. We were hit with some shocking facts. The first one is that 1/12 Cambodian children will not make their 5th birthday. Healthcare is not expensive in the least, but getting to a hospital could cost a weeks wages at least. The average Cambodian earns $7 a week. Children die of really treatable ailments. Diarrhea for example. I thought in a sense this was a really sobering look at the country which will be our host for at least two weeks. All these tourist dollars sweeping in, and the hotels on the strip nearer Angkor Wat are magnificent, and very few filter down to the poor. Trickle down economics are laughable in western countries (although not believing in them brands you as a commie), but they are cruelly inadequate in a poor country like Cambodia.
We left educated and took a tuk tuk to the SR War Museum. The cost of a ticket was $5 each for an exhibition of guns, bombs and tanks from Cambodia's wars. When discussing the war and who's fighting it is not easy in Cambodia. Sides changed a lot, governments changed, ideologies changed, colonies left and this meant that a Cambodia of certain age could be holding a gun for a very different reason on a different occasion. Our guide was informative, but sometimes I questioned his dates and his data. For example he valued a 1960's Bell Huey Helicopter at $50Million. Now a modern Bell Huey is about $4.7million, and according to the film Top Gun a Mig Fighter as flown by Maverick was $30million in the 1980s. However his general point that war is expensive is a very valid one. Our guide himself lost his arm to a landmine, and he explained the amputation process which was a sharp wire and no anesthetic. Seeing rusty weapons, soviet, chinese and a few american weapons makes me a little sick. War is a money spinner for the big nations. The soviets and chinese gave guns away, but sold ammunition. This was the big business. Its a war version of Bill Gates realising that the hardware is worth nothing, but software replacements (ongoing) is where the money is. So nice to see the soviets and chinese, so commited in blood to industrial socialism, yet so ready to make a good old capitalist buck on a communist regime they knew wouldn't work. I'm ok with hypocracy in most arenas, but not with war and lives. In fact war I hate on most levels, and seeing young soldiers fighting for a cause they do not understand sickens me. The Khmer Rouge soldiers knew little about Marx and Maoism, they thought they were fighting for deposed king and country. Its the same today. The young lads in Afghanistan, I'd love them to sit down and take a test on all the issues surrounding Afghanistan, what the war aims actually are, I don't think they know. Old men making money, sending young men to die. Their only reward is the tag of hero, then a lifetime of post-traumatic stress. The War Museum is a huge photographic and rusty reminder of the absolute dark side of politics. Still I am so glad I went to it.
The 17th August we were up before 5am as we were booked on the Angkor Wat sunrise trip. I've been to Angkor Wat twice previously, but never for the sunrise. Unfortunately our sunrise experience wasn't as good as others have enjoyed in the past. It was cloudy, and the sun wasn't that noticeable. Certainly it wasn't an orange glaze sillouetting Angkors famous towers. The experience of Angkor Wat and surrounding temples are hard to put down in words, they are very visual, which is possibly why my facebook photo album does it more justice. Essentially the Khmer Empire, was probably the most important Empire of western medieval times in Asia. The equivalent of the Incas in South America. The temples are originally Hindu but phased into Buddhist. We were a little rushed by our driver, who as it turned out was very sick. The temples are excellent. They are spaced far apart, but can be visited in a day. My advice on whether to do a sunrise tour against a day tour is to weigh up these factors. On a sunrise tour, your first stop is Angkor Wat, which leaves the rest as anti-climax, and in any case enthusiasm is further disadvantaged as your alarm went off at 4am that morning. However, the sunrise could be magical. The day tour takes you round all the temples first, ending with Angkor Wat, leaving you to care more about the other monuments which are just as impressive. Even though I'm not going into huge detail here, seeing the temples was still a great experience third time round. I want to give some prices, so if you go you can haggle in the right area. A tuk tuk should only cost $12 for a day or $15 for a sunrise (maybe another reason to chose the day). The cost of entry into Angkor Wat and temples is currently $20 per person. Food inside is as cheap as outside. $2 for some bread and cheese or $1 for water.
On Saturday 18th August and day 137, we did little most the day apart from buy new books. That evening we met up with a colleague from my last place of work. John was always a funny and interesting guy to speak to, and the fact he'd just come from Vietnam via Phnom Penh made interesting two way discussion. His girlfriend is pregnant at the moment so wasn't drinking, but still she was a happy conversationist. We made use of the 50c drafts on Pub Street, and ordered some food. I think John's bug caught up with him as he couldn't finish his noodles and nipped off the buy some immodium. They joined us initially for the lady boy show on the next block, but had to leave due to illness. So we wished them a good journey, happy parenthood and get well soon to John, and I look forward to meeting up with him in Manchester again.
The lady boy show was a good piece of entertainment. They all looked very beautiful, and were well looked after by the friendly Australian owner. One or two of the clientel looked like times have been rough since Gary Glitter went to prison, but most the customers there were youngish, of either genders and enjoying the show. The lip-syncing by the lady boys to the songs was miss-timed to say the least, but the dancing was spot on. A few comedy acts turned up, including a singer with bad make-up, a nasty wig and a false minge hanging below the short skirt. We found ourselves sat next to a couple from New Jersey called Jessica and Vinny. With our imagined community and perceived common ground they were pleasant company. Sarah asked about the election, and I loved the way she asked how Obama was doing to Jessica to gauge her political leaning. Once she found she was talking to a fellow Democrat, Sarah sat back a little and relaxed that we hadn't come across a T-Partier.
Sunday 19th August we took the bus to Battambang. I was looking forward to this as I've not been to Battambang before. It is the second city after Phnom Penh, yet it receives less attention that Siem Reap and Sihanoukville. Well they have the temples and beaches respectively. We took the bus with the locals, which I love. That said it spells discomfort. The discomfort for me was playing at full blast the worst music ever, accompanied by the worse video stories ever. All music videos seem to be tragedies involving upper middle class Asians who cheat or are being cheated on. They are left crying in their Mercedes , and when they are together they have a life that revolves around playing with iPhone 4GS' next to a swimming pool. This is not representative of the Asia I've known over the last 3 months. So with the music and journey I was left with a pounding head and struggled to eat a small salad that evening. I had caught the heat exhaustion, which seems to be a common occurence. Then again I look back since the 8th of August and it has been a long-arse journey overland from Singapore to Cambodia, and up until Siem Reap we were no more than two nights in any place. It's like Europe all over again, but in hotter weather and less luxury conditions.
That said Battambang was instantly what I wanted. It was the Siem Reap from eight years ago. Sure we aren't the only travellers here, but it's more down to earth. You have to find a place to eat situated between a hair-dressers, or an electronics shop, a bit like our part of Georgetown. It felt more like real Cambodia.
We booked a tuk tuk driver for a trip to the outskirts of Battambang. The places we wanted to see, The Bamboo Train and Phnom Sampeau. Our first stop, The Bamboo Train. Now when I first read about it my initial thought was train shaped out of bamboo rather than cast iron. The reality is a lot more fun. $5 pays for a trip to the next village and back on what is tray or crate on wheels powered by an engine and a fan belt. Being close to the ground the speed is impressive. Although being close to the ground the track joins which give the traditional train sound, is more pronounced and shoots up your arse and halfway up your spine. It's a single track and there are people coming both ways, and the solution to this is simple. One train removes itself from the track. The driver removes the fan-belt, then he lifts the tray off the wheels then lastly the wheels and axel onto the countryside, then reassembles the train when the track is clear. This happens two or three times on the journey. It seems there is an unwritten rule (or maybe it is written somewhere) that the driver of the last train to pass must help the other guy reassemble. A rule which may have been broken once and I believe we helped as passengers on one reassembling.
The next village along is good for tourists in the sense they can get a cold drink or a Khmer scarf. Or they can meet the nicest people on a more equal footing. We stopped for some canned drinks and a chat with an older couple. Meanwhile the children were giving us jewellery made from grass. They weren't that bothered about money in return, they were gifts. Other young boys were having a great time with plastic bottles which contained a small amount of motorbike petrol. They'd light the end and squeeze and squeeze to make concerningly large flame throwers. We sat with the couple, and we felt more than customers of a can of fanta. They brought out photos of their successful children. One an airline pilot with Brunei Airlines, the other a musician. The father had a scar across his chest, he told me he was a soldier, and he volunteered to tell me that he received this scar fighting the Khmer Rouge. As a soldier of Free Khmer, I needed a photo with him. If his scar was important he didn't want it in the photo, he asked for a yellow vest to cover up. If there were brave soldiers fighting communism at the time, this would be the king of them. With no help from America who poured the Vietnam war onto their neutral country and stirred up the madness leading to the Khmer Rouge, they fought in pitiful conditions. Little food, no wages, water from whatever malaria infested river they came across. No time out for recuperation. Hunted and often executed as enemies of the revolution when the Khmer Rouge took power. This man was also educated in London where he read politics. he found his way through the madness to be here talking to me. A soldier against the KR and an intellectual during a regime which would kill you for wearing spectacles. I hadn't been as star-struck since I met Jeremy Paxman.
Our next part of the journey was to Phnom Sampeau, a Wat high on the cliffs about 20km outside Battambang. We arrived at the village at the base and were offered some options. A motorbike to the top for $5 both of us, or walk it. We walked it, but we were quickly questioning the wisdom of this. The entrance is $2 and the first part of the walk looks drab. Sarah turned to the steps leading direct to the Wat on the cliff, but was told (or advised) by a policeman that we should walk up and take steps down. The walk up in the heat was torture, and I still wasn't 100% from yesterdays heat exhaustion. We stopped frequently to drink water and sweat. Then we found a turning to the caves. The caves are not as magnificent as the Batu Caves in KL, but none-the-less they are cooling and a good spot to rest drink some water and catch your breath. Sarah removed her shoes and kneeled in front of a reclining Buddha in the cave. She will say its only as picture opportunity, but I think she is coming over the way of the Buddha, how can she not? Another cave was named The Killing Cave as this was where the KR threw bodies of victims. A few skulls in a cage give proof of this, as well as art describing the brutality.
A few hundred more metres and we were at the top of the cliff and at the Wat. The view is amazing, but the temple isn't....what can I say here? If you've been in Asia a while it won't be the best temple, it's possibly in one of the best locations though. It also seemed fewer tourists come up here that other places, so you feel part of it. After we'd looked around and snapped what we needed to snap, we took the steps down to the bottom. Our driver said they were 800, but a man at the top trying to sell us a moto-taxi down said there were 3000. I didn't count but I guess less than 800. The chap trying to sell us a moto-taxi down noticed we weren't going to buy anything from him then told us how poor his family was. He was so pleasant and helpful, I gave him about Reil 1000 for his time. Some who may have read my post on the volcano trek in Bali will notice how I mocked Edwin for using the poverty line for tips, yet this chap pulled my heart strings. What's the difference? This chap was Cambodian.
Although my appetite made a brief reappearance for breakfast, the heat had got to me again, no matter how much I hydrated myself. I had a lime soda while Sarah had a full meal. I sat watching her not the least bit jealous. I'd lost my hunger. I really hope I catch this regularly in the USA. That evening it returned and I had some passable Fish and Chips.
Today, 21st August, is a non-day, where I am catching up on my blogging (hello!). We were supposed to be off to Phnom Penh today, but that has been postponed until tomorrow, due to health. Once in Phnom Penh, we will be visiting the Killing Fields and Tuol Sleng prison, so if you'd rather not read my take on war and peace and ideology, best wait until I've passed through Phnom Penh and possibly out the other end of Vietnam.
Today, the 28th August and day 147 we took a trip out of the city. About 120km to be precise. We had two stops. Firstly a Cao Dai Temple. It's apparently one of the worlds youngest religions. It's a hybrid of all the major ones. Taoism, Buddhism, Catholicism, probably Mormons too. I just saw some great photo opportunities with a whole congregation dressed in white and performing rituals in neat alignment. It looked peaceful enough. Tourists seemed to be welcomed, but ushered out the way frequently. Fair enough it's their place of worship, not Disney World. A weird rule they applied with hand waving vigour, is no taking pictures of each other in the temple. Snapping worshipers seemed ok, but taking a photo of your friend was outlawed. Very strange. Maybe that's the point of a new religion, it has centuries of catching up in the freakiness stage. Look I haven't done it much justice as, as soon as I took the pictures, I found the singing nauseating and left the temple. If you want to know more follow the link given.
Next came what I was really looking forward to; the Cu Chi Tunnels. Essentially these were tunnels used by the Viet Cong, the guerillas in the Vietnam War. From here they lived underground in the most cramped situations. This gave much protection from the aerial bombardment, which the USA was over reliant on during the conflict. Very interesting too are the booby traps they made, which were often variations on falling in holes followed with a cleverly engineered spike in your armpit. There is a 100 metre tunnel kindly carved for the enjoyment of tourists. Apparently twice the size of those used by the cheeky Vietnamese. Most our tour group wouldn't make the whole 100m journey and emerged out a relief hole, myself included. How those people lived in those network of tunnels for weeks and months beggars belief. It gave a fantastic look at the war from the VC's side. It showed how innovative they were. How ready they were to put up with supreme hardship. This was obviously underestimated by USA.
Next came what I was really looking forward to; the Cu Chi Tunnels. Essentially these were tunnels used by the Viet Cong, the guerillas in the Vietnam War. From here they lived underground in the most cramped situations. This gave much protection from the aerial bombardment, which the USA was over reliant on during the conflict. Very interesting too are the booby traps they made, which were often variations on falling in holes followed with a cleverly engineered spike in your armpit. There is a 100 metre tunnel kindly carved for the enjoyment of tourists. Apparently twice the size of those used by the cheeky Vietnamese. Most our tour group wouldn't make the whole 100m journey and emerged out a relief hole, myself included. How those people lived in those network of tunnels for weeks and months beggars belief. It gave a fantastic look at the war from the VC's side. It showed how innovative they were. How ready they were to put up with supreme hardship. This was obviously underestimated by USA.
