Mud River and Battambang

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While still in Siem Reap, we made the decision to take a boat through the northern part of the Tonle Sap Lake and then up a winding river to the city of Battambang - a decision we soon regretted. The boat had seats for 20 and we arrived early enough (7 a.m.) to grab two. By the time we left the dock, there were about 70 tourists with luggage on board, the majority on the roof in the blazing sun.

The early part of the trip proved interesting as we motored by floating villages on the northern end of the lake, with kiddies taking barges or dugouts to get to their floating school with an amzing floating gym with a screen around it to prevent volleyballs from falling into the water. After about an hour we entered the reedy mouth of a river. Our Lonely Planet guidebook claimed that this was one of the most beautiful journeys in Cambodia. Once again, the LP series of guidebooks proved seriously inaccurate; if not for the fact that we have only purchased "street copies" at $4/book, we would ask for our money back! The river we entered had muddy banks at least 7 meters high absolutely festooned with garbage, plastic bags, more garbage... we felt as if we had entered some type of environmentally apocalyptic world. An ugly and disgusting river journey. When we climbed to the roof to get a view of the countryside, everywhere we looked we saw flat farmland with only the odd tree to add scenic value.

After three hours we were forced to scramble madly into two smaller boats as the water was too low for the first boat we boarded. The boat we chose had all of the luggage thrown aboard plus about 40 people sitting on the roof, deck and engine cover under the scorching sun. We sat so low in the water that we ended up running aground on to the muddy shelving riverbanks a total of 10 times over the next several hours. The "captain" (sitting in an old car seat and using a steering wheel taken from an old Ford truck) would then furiously rev the diesel engine and rock the boat back and forth while his two deckhands pushed off the botton with long bamboo poles. After 10 minutes or so we would come free and continue our journey only to run aground once again when trying to make a tight turn in the narrow river channel. A long day and we finally arrived in Battambang at 6 p.m.

Finally arrived at our hotel, the less said about which the better. It was still under construction. But the staff were wonderful. One nice young fellow introduced himself to us as the bartender, except that there was no bar. No problem! He charged down the street to the nearest restaurant to get anything you ordered. For anyone planning to go to Battambang, book very early at La Villa. It was full when we tried to book it, but we ate there and the food was delicious.

Next day we took a tuk tuk to some ruins out of town on a hill that was endlessly fought over because it commands a great view of the plain. The journey proved to be the dry land version of our boat ride. The pot holes were so large that all you could do was laugh and hope your fillings didn't fall out of your teeth. When we arrived, we were immediately taken over by a woman who didn't understand a word of spoken English, but who had flawlessly memorized in English the history of the ruins. She was accompanied by a little boy who made frangipani necklaces for Helen, so she was charmed. We climbed down from the ruins to find that a cranky looking monkey had taken over the controls to the tuk tuk and wasn't about to leave until he was bought off with lots of bananas.

Leaving Battambang
On the 14th we grabbed a tuk tuk to the bus station located in the town market area and had an enjoyable half hour wait watching market activities, including the sale of different fried bugs. Pity we had already eaten breakfast. We boarded the 10 a.m. bus for the 5-hour drive to Phnom Penh. In order to make room for our luggage, the driver had to move two large sacks of live chickens in the luggage area underneath the seats (a few hours later we heard a rooster crowing below us - surreal). The bus was overcrowded as parents book two seats and then sit there with 3 or 4 kids on laps, lying in corridor, etc., During a large part of the journey, a three year old hung over the back of our seats and coughed/snotted on us (when he wasn't whacking me with a cap - little bastard).

When we arrived in Phnom Penh the driver told the two of us to get off at a little plaza, clearly not the bus station. The bus then roared off with all the other passengers on board leaving us in the company of a crowd of touts trying to take us to various hotels. We had to be quite firm about obtaininga tuk tuk to take us to our hotel booked in advance. Finally, one of the drivers agred to take us for the princely sum of $5 and we were off. The Pavilion hotel proved to be a lovely old colonial house converted to a 10-room hotel just one block from the Imperial palace. Its tree and flower-filled garden, and lovley small swimming pool, all surrounded by a 4 metre high wall proved to be an idyllic oasis in frenetic Phnom Penh.

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