Captiving Cambodia

What is it that makes you fall in love with a country? With 4 weeks cut off my intended trip by my stupid Sandhurst pre-commissioning course, I had had to abandon my plans to spend part of my trip in Laos and Cambodia, and restrict myself to a 10 day whirlwind transit through the latter on my way back overland to Bangkok to fly home on the 7th. I had made this revision without too much angst, as I could not have cut off any time from Vietnam and still seen it thoroughly (and even as it was I left places unseen that I would have like to have visited), and I figured that SE Asia was all, well, much of a muchness anyway.

Well, in the latter at least, I was wrong. From my first morning in Cambodia, I was captived by it, in a way I had never quite been in Vietnam apart from maybe in Mai Chau. In Vietnam the xe om drivers and hawkers infuriated me, any attempt to explain to them in Vietnamese that you weren't interested met with scorn, even the apparently pitiful little kids trying to sell you a bracelet cussed you out in a (pretty damn impressive, actually) display of venom if you refused. In Cambodia the moto drivers tell you to enjoy your day if you explain you aren't interested, a smile gets a grin in return from them, they are delighted if you speak any Khmer, and even the street kids are cuter and up for a bit of banter. (My favourite Khmer phrase so far is "Jong darling" which means, "Thanks darling, but I prefer to walk") In fact, Cambodian kids are definitely in the running for cutest in the world. Such an attitude automatically encourages the like in yourself. I've found myself far more cheerful, talking to locals a lot more, far more patient, tolerant, and generally just happier in Cambodia. Perhaps it's that this country is newer to the mass tourism game than Vietnam, maybe it's something about their recent history (considering what this people have gone through in the last 30 years, its surprising they're smiling at all). Whatever it is, I wish, WISH I had a couple more weeks here. Guess its gonna be added to the list of return destinations...

Having said all that, my first impressions of Cambodia were not altogether encouraging. After a long, long, LONG boat trip across the border, sitting on a hard wooden bench and trying unsuccesfully to shelter from the pouring monsoon rain, we then sat on a bus for another couple of hours in a stand still in Phnom Penh traffic, to arrive in our hotel on the outskirts of the city, without an eatery in sight. However, the next morning I was up bright and early to say goodbye to my Mekong Delta group and transfer to backpacker territory at Lakeside, which is gradually being filled in for a new development, and thus will be 'Lakeside' no more. This place was a REAL dive, but sadly and weirdly staying in places like that actually make me really happy, even with the bedbugs. Possibly I think because it reminds me of India.... or I really am just a reincarnation of a miserly Puritan. Anyway, I set off almost immediately on a walking tour of the city, and the start of my love affair with Cambodia. Phnom Penh still has very much a ramshackle air; there are lots of decrepit buildings around, some unpaved roads, and its generally a bit dirtier than Vietnam, but this gave it a more relaxed vibe, aided by the decreased insanity of the traffic in comparison with its eastern neighbour, and its friendly people. After lunch I headed to the Royal Palace, still the residence of the Royal Family, and used for official functions. This is a large complex full of ornate buildings, including the throne room, which almost blinds you with the surfeit of gold as you enter, and the Silver Pagoda, where each of the floor tiles weighs 1 kg and is made of solid silver. It really felt quite peculiar considering the problems with poverty that Cambodia continues to experience, and you can almost understand why the Khmer Rouge aimed to melt down these things and redistribute the wealth. Not condone it of course, but understand. As it was they managed to destroy a depressing majority of the country's treasures, monasteries and cultural heritage. You notice lots of workshops in Phnom Penh churning out masses of Buddha images and such like in an attempt to reclaim a cultural heritage for the country.

That evening, chilling out in a bar near my hotel, who should I hear calling my name but the Scousers et al? Whom I had thought never to see again, weep. It should be ever so slightly depressing when you realise you are following the same itinerary as everyone else, and fulfill every cliche in the book, but actually its been awesome. I couldn't actually travel with them - a) I (and my liver) couldn't stand the pace, and b) they don't get up until about 4pm every day, but its great to hang out with such great guys, and not have to do the whole "so how long you been travelling? where have you been? where are you going?" same old repetitive conversations with new backpackers all the time. So that was a great evening. Couldn't quite bring myself to say goodbye to them at the end of the night, even though I was off to Kampot the following day and they were heading to an orphanage to do some volunteering, so the chances of running into each other again were minimal.

The following morning I was up super early, as I wanted to go to the Tuol Sleng museum before my bus at lunchtime (as I said, whirlwind tour). Tuol Sleng was originally a high school, but was converted during the Khmer period into the most notorious detension and interrogation centre for all those considered enemies of the state, which seems to have been everyone. When the Vietnamese forces captured Phnom Penh in 1979, they found the tortured corpses of the last 7 prisoners tied to the iron beds, and meticulous records of the over 17,000 people held there in the three years of Pol Pot's ascendency, before they were taken to be shot and buried in mass graves at the Killing Fields outside of the city. These prisoners not only included those thought to be dissidents, but their families, members of the Khmer Rouge purged by the inner circle, and even former guards and torturers at Tuol Sleng. The mugshots of these unfortunates are displayed on board after board of black and white photographs - mothers with babe in arms, tottering old men, children that look no more than toddlers. It's quite sickening, although the graphic nature of the photography at the War Remnants Museum was missing. Again, I didn't make it though the entire display. The sickening thing is that even now there are still victims of the war - the Khmer Rouge used landmines against their own people, and in large swathes of the countryside you still can't walk off the beaten path for fear of them. One of the most noticeable differences between Cambodia and Vietnam is the number of crippled and mutilated beggars here - victims of such mines.

Landmines excepted, the country is now free of the Khmer Rouge. However, even in the very brief glimpse I have obtained of Cambodia, it is clear that the country is by no means assured of a rosy future. There may still be a king of Cambodia, but the country is really owned by the corporations. Sokha, a Cambodian hotel chain that is in turn owned by the massive oil conglomerate Sokimex, along with others like it, are capitalising on the government's lack of funds for development to establish a virtual monopoly on the country's tourism entry. At present, Sokha receives 17% of all entry fees to Angkor in return for 'administering' the site, owns 1.5km of the best beach in Sihanoukville (Cambodia's premier beach resort), which is now accessible only to residents of its 5 star hotel, and is increasing pressure on the government on a number of other projects. It is they who are filling in the lake in Phnom Penh. Meanwhile, only 10% of Angkor's revenue goes back into its conservation - these guys are interested in the short-term cash, not the long-term development. And how to encourage a poverty-stricken government not to aim for the highest revenue as quickly as possible?

Kampot, my destination on Wednesday, was a destination directly affected by both past and present Cambodian issues. Along with Kep further up the coast, Kampot was a favoured holiday destination of the French and Cambodian elite, full of grand mansions and elegant streets. For this reason, they were targeted with particular vehmenance by the Khmer Rouge, and Kep in particular was almost entirely destroyed. They are only just now beginning to recover. Nevertheless, their remaining colonial ambiance, relaxed air and seaside location sounded really cool, and I wanted to see what they were like. Kampot also had Bokor - a French hill station that had been completely abandoned, and where now only gutted shells of a few former hotels, a church, a post office and so on, remained. I had really wanted to see this, as it was meant to have a peculiarly surreal and somewhat creepy air. Here's where Sokha comes in. In return for improving the appalling road up to Bokor, the Sokha oligarch (who I tend to think of a like an evil version of Rochard Branson), wanted to build, guess what? a luxury resort up there, complete with golf course, spa, etc etc, blah blah. Never mind about the National Park and the remaining tigers and Asiatic bears that still make a home there, never mind about the people who might not be able to afford a 300$ a night room, never mind eco-tourism.... okay, okay, I won't rant. In the mean time, whilst the road is being redone and whilst the director of the National Park continues to try and explain to Sokha such things like that fact that a golf course may not be a good idea when Bokor is famous for its permenantly misty weather, Bokor is, for the large part, closed to tourists. I had been warned of this in Phnom Penh, and was really disappointed, but was delighted to learn once I reached Kampot that we could still do it, just in a somewhat unconventional way...

Anyway, I get ahead of myself. The hotelier in Phnom Penh (Sam), the sort of guy who checks you in and then immediately offers you a joint, had recommended me a hotel in Kampot (the one in which, coincidentally, I had been planning to stay anyway) and had text my name to his friend who owned it, so I would be picked up off the bus. Anyway, I am picked up in Kampot, taken to the hotel (perfectly nice), and am just ordering dinner, when the manager comes over to my table and invites me to join him and his friend for dinner. I foresee this ending in angst, but feel it rude to refuse, so reluctantly accept, assuming we are just going around the corner. However, on his motorbike we head off into the night, where he takes me to some kind of shack somewhere where loud music is emmanating from. A guy who introduces himself as Sam's friend invites me in and hands me a beer. It seems to be some kind of a party, as there is a live band, and a lot of considerably drunk people, mostly drunk older policemen and young girls. I am utterly and entirely confused, and wonder whether I've been brought to some shady brothel. No-one speaks English apart from this guy Clay, and as the music is loud and he is drunk its really quite difficult to make out what the hell is happening. I pretty much just sip my beer and prepare myself to make a run for it if necessary. Thankfully after a while a guy who speaks better English comes along, and I am able to ascertain that there was a party in the afternoon for the Director of the Police (who is currently twirling drunkenly round a roof support) for his birthday, that this is Clay's house, that the girls are not whores but the band's singers, and that no, I probably won't get raped or robbed. This made clearer I am able to relax a bit more and attempt some sign language with the girls (and fend off offes to dance with the police director). After a while, Clay starts up his pick up and takes us all to a diner in town where I try some of the dried and salted fish that they have everywhere here and makes me and Coop retch on even a whiff of (and yes, its tastes as bad as it smells), then weakly accept Clay's offer to be dropped back at my hotel rather than continue onto a club with them... surreal night.

Anyway, back onto Bokor. My trip was scheduled for the following day, and, because part of the road was closed off and being re-done, the plan was to trek three hours up the mountainside until we could reach the part of the road which hadn't been done yet, from where we could get transport up to the hill station. Sitting in the back of a pick-up, we jolted down the most appalling road I've EVER come across (I'm talking about potholes a meter deep every couple of metres along the road. And no, I'm not exaggerating). Then we transfered to a 4x4 as the pick-up could only make it down part of the track, then got off at the foot of the mountain, then started trekking. It was SCORCHING hot and the trek was steep, but I really enjoyed it, and made friends with our guide, who was over 50, but an amzing bloke. He told us that his parents had been killed by the Khmer Rouge when he was 18, at which point he fled to the mountains near the Thai border, and lived on fruit and whatever he could find in the forest for 2 YEARS, avoiding all humans and just trying to stay alive. When he heard about the invasion of the Vietnamese, he joined their forces and had been a soldier for 24 years. During this time he had his leg injured by a landmine, but luckily a Swiss doctor was available and it didn't have to be amputated. Now he ran a motorbike hire shop, had five children, and freelanced as a tour guide. Oh, and his name was Tree. As I said, dude.

Anyway, I enjoyed the trek. It took us quite a long time, mainly because CERTAIN OTHER PEOPLE in the group were apparently ASTONISHINGLY unfit and had decided to cumber their natural abilities further by wearing FLIP-FLOPS on a 6 hour round trip up and down a mountain. Personally I think in such cases we ought to adhere to the Aborginal code of conduct (if you can't keep up, you get left behind), but nevermind. Anyway, once we finally reached the road again we transferred to the back of a truck and bounced for a further hour up the pitted road. It hurt. I think I would have preferred to keep trekking. Before you could drive all the way up to Bokor, but I actually quite liked it this way. Aside from the fact that I like trekking anyway, this had a nicely gung-ho element to it that made the destination even more interesting. And we were lucky to be able to do it at all. I hadn't been misled in Phnom Penh, often the hill station is closed off completely, and only certain operators seem to be allowed to run trips (i.e. have the money to bribe Sokha, I suspect).

Sadly, once we finally reached Bokor we only had about an hour and a quarter to explore, which was no-where near enough. Even more sadly, my camera charge died just as we got up there, so I don't have the photographic evidence to show you. I really liked it though. You could explore all 4 floors of the old Bokor Palace Hotel where the Vietnamese were holed up, shooting at the Khmer Rouge sheltering in the old Catholic Church 500m away. At the back of the hotel there was a cliff almost a kilometre in height, where the clouds swirled continuously like camp fire smoke, and between which you could occasionally catch glimpses of the coast. It was really cool, and I'm so glad I was able to see it, albeit for a short time, before the new development went up. I have no urge to go 4x4ing for a while though...

The following day, my final in Kampot, I decided to hire a motorbike and head over to Kep, which was about 20 mins away. For pretty much the first time this trip I really wasn't feeling that great, so took it fairly easy, wandering along the long seaside promenade and collapsing into one of the many hamocks put up by the restauranteurs. From there I pretty much chilled out and watched the world go by, tucking into a huge tureen of fresh prawn soup (the illness sadly did not affect my appetite) before puttering over to the crab market and the range of cafes et al beside it. There wasn't much to see in Kep, but I liked it, and it was interesting to see the old falling down French 1920s mansions slowly being restored to former glories. The motorbike ride back to Kampot at sunset through the rice paddies and the palm trees will probably be a highlight of the trip.

The following morning (Sunday), I was off again, to Sihanoukville, 2 hours down the coast, but very different in vibe. This is Cambodia's beach resort, dotted with tropical islands, coral reefs, beachside bars and, inevitably, hawkers. Still feeling pretty ill, I checked into another dive right on the beach, and then spread myself out on a beach chair and soaked up the rays all day, only stirring myself occasionally to cool myself off in the gorgeous warm water, and later to pick up some beers at a nearby bar. The following day, namely, yesterday, I booked myself on a cheap snorkelling trip to some of the islands off the coast. This was pretty budget - the 'included breakfast' consisted of a baguette and a pack of butter, the 'beach BBQ' of a small piece of fish and oh yes, another baguette, on a beach filled with both tons of tourists and a lot of litter. But hell, you get what you pay for, I couldn't afford better, and I enjoyed the two bouts of snorkelling at least - the reefs were really cool. In the evening I was just deciding on my soft drink of preference (I am actually addicted for real this time around) when I was once again hailed by the Scousers, whose orphanage thing had fallen through. My night bus was leaving at 7 so I only had a couple of hours with them, and was gutted to hear they'd been on some super-lash Halloween binge the night before which I had missed out on. They're going back to the orphanage in a couple of days though, so I think that was the final, final meeting point, although with that lot I never say never...

As of early this morning, I'm in the final destination for this trip, Siem Reap, gateway to the Temples of Angkor. Siem Reap is gorgeous (I was expecting it to be as commercial as hell, but its actually really relaxed and full of fit restaurants and cafes), and I'm staying in a really nice place that for some unknown but wonderous reason only charge 1$ a night for a dorm bed. It's been the water festival here today, with lots of boat races on the river, streets thronged with crowds, and all Cambodia's cutest toddlers on full display, so am currently at the height of Cambodian appreciation. A 4.30am rise tomorrow to catch my first Angkor sunrise, 3 days of cycling around apparently awesome temples, then a fast bus to Bangkok to catch my plane home...
Schade.

---

---

Part of trip: Japan and Vietnam

---