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Published: January 29th 2007
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We travel up the Mekong from Vietnam into Cambodia; the riverbank appears more green and there are less tropical plants (banana's and palms.)
We arrive in Phnom Pehn, the capital, in the dark. I had been given the recommendation of a hotel the day previous and checked it out. It was in a dark area of town next to a loud bar. Viewing the room, it was slightly suspect; although it wasn't a brothel, it did smell slightly like a tart's boudoir. They advertised massages on the top floor and I wondered about extras. It wasn't the sort of place I wanted my wife to stay in. Looking back with hindsight, it might just have been the better option, but little did I know.
We headed to the tourist area by the lake. This was touristville. Bars, restaurants, and pizzaplaces. It buzzed with noise, and I was approached by hashish sellers before I had even got out of the cyclo. Our first option hotel had no vacancies; neither did the 2nd, 3rd etc, etc. I eventually found a place at the end of another dark street. It looked promising as it was directly overlooking the lake. Even if it
only had 3 single beds I thought I could handle 1 night not cuddled up to my wife. We went out for dinner - just about edible - to return to our room. A nearby hotel played 80's music so loud I could hear the words clearly enough to sing along. Before I did so Claudia let out a gasp (she's not the type to cry or scream) she had seen something dark move along the floor. It was rodent shaped, and I could hear the scamper of rats underneath the floorboards, on the tin roof and scampering up the outside of the walls. It was now nearly 11pm and there was no-where else to stay. I wasn't even able to hug Claudia in the night for comfort.
The next morning we changed hotel.
We then looked at the local sights. I couldn't face either the killingfields (where over 8,000 of Pol Pot's victims were found), or the gruesome school that was turned into a torture palace - known only as S21, so we went to the The Royal complex and silver pagoda. When we arrived Claudi realised that she wouldn't be let in as the dress she
was wearing showed her shoulders and that was just too much skin for the Khmers. We tried to improvise by folding 2 hankerchiefs under the straps (clean I assure you) but the palace authorities couldn't turn down the opportunity to earn some money by leasing out t-shirts to those depraved westerners who wear sluttish clothing. Claudia fumed away angrily in the boiling sun as she now wore an extra layer of clothing - despite the fact that other darker looking Indian visitors had midriffs and bare shoulders showing from the saris. Oh well it was another money making opportunity for Cambodia.
To calm down we had a drink in the FCC. (Foreign Correspondents Club.) Imagine the bar from Casablanca; open windows, a cool breeze from the wind and the fans, plush leather chairs, and seriously good cocktails; this is where journalists went to slowly and purposefully get quietly smashed while waiting for some news. The FCC was the only consistently good quality place in Cambodia. It was clear that we were turning into the tourists that we despised that frequented all of the bars by the lake - it was time to move on to Siem Reap - the
nearest town to the Angkor Temples.
Siem Reap itself was even more touristville than PP. ALthough it must be said that the quality of the decor was better. But then everything was twice the price of PP. And the quality wasn't always promised from the decor of the restaurants. I had my worst ever pizza here; and at $6 it wasn't cheap. A 3 day pass for the temples was $40 each, and tuk-tuk drivers wanted to start negotiations at $15 a day (although you could negotiate them down slightly!) Prices were generrally European with Indian quality (at least in India things were cheap (and there you sometimes struck gold quality-wise))Drinks were also starting at $1 a drink - which was why we often ended up in Siem Reaps FCC; at happy hour prices they were as expensive as everywhere else, but at least there was quality. It was almost as though the country depended entirely on the tourist dollar, yet it was on the verge of already pricing itself out of the market. It was running before it could walk and it had no inferstructure in place to support the 1.35 million tourists and visitors who came in
'05.
The temples themselves were amazing though. Credit where credits due. I won't try to explain them; and I doubt the pictures published here will do them justice. You will either have to come here yourself and suffer the same fun we did, or get a coffee table photobook from your local library. What you do need to know are that they are about 30 temples. Some are measured in miles; some were cities in themselves (with a million inhabitants.) They all took over 100-200 years to build. If they were in the UK they would be roped off so that you don't hurt yourself (with good reason, I fell down a few steps at 20,000 feet - and have a new scar to prove it!) In the UK you can't even touch the exhibits at a small provincial museum, yet here you could touch, handle and even climb over everything.
Historically the temples were Hindu in origin, but at some point the Khmer Kings turned Buddhist. The temples are flooded with both Hindu and Buddhist carvings; but we only found 1 Lingam. (A lingam is a crude symbol of Shiva the God of destruction and creation. The
Naga
5 headed snakes for protection carving would consist of a small phallic mound within a etched circular groove (the female yoni.) The first time we saw it many moons ago in a stall in Orcha, Claudia thought that it was a citus press. I still wince everytime I see linga now and can only hope that the Khmer Rouge didn't use this as a form of torture.)
At the end of 1 day, buying some water, I happened to ask the seller why Cambodia was so expensive. He laughed at me loudly without embarrassment and answered in pidgeon English. At first I thought he meant that we (as westerners) could afford it (which technically we could) but then I realised that he meant that if we found it expensive, think how he finds it. This was almost a sobering thought, as I slowly sipped on my bloody mary at the local FCC. Almost, but not quite.
Terry Bastard.
PS by The Wife: Even though we only stayed in Cambodia for 1 week I really liked it. The Khmers are generally friendly people and I was relieved that we didn't really need our phrasebook for Khmer. There was a lot less traffic than in
Vietnam even though there were many cars comparatively. I think the local food isn't bad (very much like thai) just that we are a bit fed up with asian food altogether (feeling guilty for that too as we should be enjoying everything) and are a bit homesick. Every one who said that 2 months would be enough was little right. Terry keeps teasing me that I am middle aged now... which doesn't help (actually it was our cambodian tuk tuk driver who said it first). On top of that we both have quite a thick headcold, but getting over it (only the third since we have left...)
So that just to put things in perspective. We have decided to spend a couple of days in plush hotels, eating spaghetti pomodoro and then our discovery hunger will probably come back.
Lots of love Claudi and Terry
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Duane
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Homesick?!
I'm surprised it took 2 months, I thought you guys would start feeling homesick sooner. The delay must be an indication of how much you guys are enjoying it. You've probably had enough of the East though. I'm sure after some nice hotels (rat free) and some good sensible food you will be as keen as ever. fascinating stuff though. Any particular reason why you avoided the Killing fields, other than the obviously inhumanity surrounding the history. Enjoy the last of the East!!