Crossing the border

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The girls had arrived the night before without any hassle and we drank some beers and went for cheap eats down the road. It was fab to have them with us and we went to bed excited for our trip to Cambodia.

We got to Vietdreams, the travel agency, at 7.30am as requested, only to be told that the bus was now leaving at 8.30am. This meant we had time to grab some brekko though – the girls had their first pho while Lisa could only manage a mango sinh to (yoghurt smoothie) at that time of the morning. We got chatting to some guys Ian knows from football, who were heading the opposite way to Nha Trang, before eventually boarding the bus. It was a pretty decent one, not masses of space but semi-recliners and A/C, and so we all dozed on and off until we got to the border 2 hours away. We had already filled out all the paperwork so it was a painless process – sign out of Vietnam, sign into Cambodia. We were instantly struck by the change in architecture, with the rooves covered in typically Cambodian long spindly legs (technical architectural term no?). On exiting, a health check guy pointed a gun at us and zapped us, checking for our temperature we guessed, but the fact that we were all zapped in completely different places made us wonder for a while – Lisa got it in the neck, Ian on the chest and Rhonda right in the mouth (must have been cos she is so pale!! 😉. Random.

And while the border crossing was fine for us, there was that one person who somehow managed to cause a scene. There’s always one, and I hate to say it, but in our experience they’re usually American! (Sorry Yank friends, I know you’re all very well-travelled and would never do such a thing!) It was the usual thing – she aka Big Bird (she was a giant I tell you! ) hadn’t realised that she needed a multiple entry visa having crossed over the border once already but of course started arguing that she was right and she had a visa and blah blah blah. When she finally admitted she was in the wrong, she also confessed to Lisa, who was waiting for the others, that she had no money (who travels with no money on them??). Lisa had no moolah either, as Ian doesn’t trust her to carry cash (why, Lisa does not know), so couldn’t help her out at that point. So Big Bird hopped on the back of a xe om (moto taxi) to find an ATM. The bus driver didn’t seem to think this woman was important enough to wait for though and so drove off without her, with her bags on the bus and us trying to tell him he’d left someone behind. We did in fairness only drive about 5 minutes up the road to a rest stop where we all trudged off for a cold drink and some grub, where we ended up sharing a table with an old Finnish guy who wanted to practice his English. Big Bird eventually came screeching up on the back of the xe om, screaming blue murder at the bus driver and anyone who would listen that she thought she’d been left behind and had lost all her stuff. This was understandable and we did explain that we’d tried to stop the driver but he was pretty nonchalant about the whole thing and just ignored her. This resulted in Big Bird bitching and moaning for the rest of the trip, calling the travel company, demanding an apology, and repeated attempts to talk to the driver, who had absolutely no desire, let alone the language skills, to converse with her.

Back on the bus, and Lisa was assaulted by the extreme heat and sun beating through the window on her side. Somehow, throughout the whole journey, the sun never moved, pelting Lisa the entire way. We watched the Cambodian countryside passing us by until we were lulled into a sleep by the sauna-like conditions on the bus. We awoke as we felt the bus pulling into the side of the road, hoping it was for a drink and toilet stop. But this being a trip involving Lisa, of course meant there was trouble a-brewing. We sat there for a while, wondering what was going on, sweating profusely and gasping for air inside what was now effectively a tin green house. Not being able to take it any longer we all got off, stood in the shade of the bus, next to a sparsely wooded bank, watching the drivers trying to fix the A/C for the next 2 hours. It was bloody baking hot, but we were entertained by the group of larger than life Filipino ladies singing for us and handing out sweets to us all and a group of kids who came to watch the foreigners grouped on the side of the road, playing hit the tree with the rock, watching the men all standing around watching the men’s attempts to repair the A/C and butterflies floating around, but also being forced into using the hobbit toilet on the bus which had turned into a stinking, sweaty hell hole. After a few hours, we all crawled back on the bus, which by now was almost unbearable to sit in, with all surfaces red hot to the touch. The hope that we would be on the way and cool again soon was dashed as we set off with not a breath of air on the bus. Realising we were all about to pass out, the driver opened up all the doors and windows he could so we had some relief from the heat whilst driving along. So it wasn’t long before we were all back snoozing and sweating, awakening only for the Neak Luong ferry crossing over the Mekong, where we saw vendors selling snacks of crispy cockroaches. Nina was gutted that she’d missed out on them and swore she would try one on the way back. It was a few more hours to Phnom Penh, meaning that by the time we arrived, we’d been travelling for 10 hours, on a journey that should only have taken about 6. Nothing new there then. But we had arrived and were ready for some Cambodian fun....

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