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Published: February 21st 2011
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Sometimes a song gets stuck in your head. Sometimes a song can be stuck in your head for days on end. The latter is the case with me. “Nothing to write home about, nothing I got figured out, still I have the same old doubts, nothing to write home about”. That is few lines from the song “Nothing to write home about”by the 90's band Soul Asylum. The song appeared in the iPod in my head upon arrival day in Sihanoukville and days later it's still on repeat.
Arrived in the afternoon to the beach town of Sihanoukville. Used my travel guide to locate a little guest house in the quieter Victory Hill area instead of the more popular area of Serendipity. I remember an email from my friend Anna who strongly suggested I visit Sihanoukville and a nearby island or two. My goal, relax, keep a slow pace, use the guitar that has been dead weight as of late, get a Vietnam visa and figure out where to next and when.
I rocked up by moto to a little guesthouse down a back road of dirt in the Victory Hill area. It was a hot day and
I needed food so I checked in, even though the room was basic and small. I choose the Victory Hill area instead of the backpacker friendly area of Seredipity on the whole principle of peace and quiet over the busy beaches and less relaxing atmosphere. The Victory Hill area had no paved roads, two streets of bars and restaurants and and a few handfuls of guesthouses scattered about. The beach, is small, but relaxed with a small amount of touts offering massages, pedicures, manicures, fruit, seafood and cool drinks. I found a nicer guesthouse for a cheaper price for the next day and moved only a few doors down my second day in town.
The ritual began, breakfast at the friendly middle aged womans shop, a discussion with the moto drivers about if I needed to go anywhere that day, trips to the busy side of town for some afternoon beers with a view, afternoon naps and down to the Retox bar for some barbeque from the magical grill lady. I must talk of this bar, I stumbled across it while hungry my first night in Victory Hill. A middle aged woman had a large bowl of marinated meats,
half a barrel for a barbeque filled with burning wood and a wire rack on top. I stopped to ask a few questions, get some prices and have a few sniffs. The grill was doing it's thing on pork ribs larger then my head. It was Valentines Day and I was alone but there in front of me was something that evokes more emotions deep inside me then any girl has ever been able too. Pork. In no time I was a side street spectacle. The thin guy with all the ribs. Children stopped to gawk, dogs watched with wishful eyes and the staff just gave me funny smiles from the sauce on my face, hands and beard. Later on the chef joined me as she had her lunch. As the ribs had surprised me with there tenderness and the sauce was sweet but had a kick of spice we were talking food and recipes. Then she gave me free grilled squid. I spent each evening at the Retox bar enjoying grilled pork, drinking cheap bear and watching the street spring into life.
As most of the youthful and young at heart travellers tend to stay in the Seredipity
area that is lined with beach bars, drink specials, restaurants, clubs and all the noise one may want from a beach town. Victory Hill is the faded remnants of the old backpacker part of town. As Sihanoukville was developing as a seaside resort town in the 60's then was neglected during the Khmer Rouge era. In fact the American's bombed the port in the 70's when the Khmer Rouge hijacked a boat to the area. The town became backpacker friendly again in the 90's and the new millenium brought money and the devlopement of the Seredipity area. Victory Hill tends to be an older group of people, or if younger, French people.The little street fills with scantily clothed local girls who sit at the front tables of the bars and look for customers. The street becomes a street of women for sale. It interesting to witness as the women are playing with their young children one minute then in a short period of time are calling out to foreign men who walk past.
Sometimes the chain of events of a little pickle can lead to positive things. I realized I forgot my iPod chord back in Phnom Penh (small
pickle but a bit of a drag), and planned to go in search of one in the upcoming days but I did require a charge soon. The guesthouse was French owned and most of the customers were middle aged French men. I spotted a couple that were new and looked like English speakers. They lent me an iPod chord for the afternoon. We got a talking and they were very interesting. They had a years worth of travel to tell me about and an upcoming wedding in Thailand to discuss. I spent the next few days with them exchanging travel stories, travel advice, and dining on grilled pork. Phil and Heidi kept my quiet days a little more exciting with the afternoon beers and laughter. I had thought about renting a moto and having a day to explore the area. I did read in my guide book that a Cambodian Drivers Licence is required. Most people dont actually do this and it usually works out fine but there are times when the local police decide to crack down on this. While on the back of a moto we went through one roadblock where only foreigners were being pulled over then
my driver did the common practice of running a red light and got pulled over. The damage for the infraction, 3000 riels (75 cents).
What can I say. I had a good time in Sihanoukville even though I skipped the highly recommended Bamboo Island trip (I did say no more boats and after watching the vessels rock across the water one afternoon, I decided no way). The realaxed pace of my days, sunshine, beach, the great food and cheap beer. Sometimes a vacation from vacation is necessary. Vietnam visa was sucessfully gotten. And the little beach side resort that was forgottten about, never finished and now is home to plenty of construction is an interesting sight. It seems funny to have beautiful new buildings just down the corner from streets that have never seen pavement. Victory Hill is a what a Cambodian resort town should be, a jewel forgotten and remembered. Somewhere between unfinished yesterdays and ambitious tomorrows. A relic of a dream recovered and to be shined and honed but not complete yet. Sihanoukvillle is Cambodia, an unfinished dream.
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mom
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wow you are getting so good at these descriptions almost feel myself there this all seems so amazing mom