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Published: August 23rd 2009
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Dismounting from the boat at the dock in Phnom Penh we were met by a jostling crowd of hawkers, hotel reps and moto, tuk tuk and taxi drivers. We had a hotel organised and the address, but they are not that helpful in Cambodia where street numbering seems utterly random. Perhaps this nation is psychologically secretive now and does not want an address to give away where they are. With our hotel being 1, but sandwiched by 27 and 324 we had no option but to take a taxi.
More than anywhere else we have been Cambodia appears to operate a parallel economy. Locals pay and deal in Riel, tourists in dollars, and inevitably just about everything costs at least a dollar. It is hard to resent it though as these people have evidently been through so much. Everywhere there are victims of the conflict battling to overcome disabilities that at home would mean full time care, and here mean simply earning a living even more of a challenge. All of a sudden the trite English phrase “I’d give my right arm for …” appears terrible. Many here have lost 2 or more limbs, and have no option but to
support themselves.
In Phnom we did little but wander up and down the river, call into an ice cream parlour, shop in a second hand book shop, and eat. We will be passing back this way later to see the sights. The next morning we rose early and took a bus to Battambang. Battambang is a provincial capital, a little off the tourist track. Its architecture is a delightful colonial-asian mix, and it feels a little like one imagines Galle or Luang Prabang were before the UNESCO money came in.
We certainly made the most of our time in Battambang. The evening we arrived we headed out to the Smoking Pot, a local restaurant with the distinction of having been the first place in Cambodia to offer cookery classes. We enjoyed our food and were entertained by the menu and duly signed up. The next morning we rose and wandered over to have breakfast and then begin our class. On reflection this was not a smart move, we had a huge breakfast, and were mostly not hungry when during the lesson we completed our first dish just after 11 and settled down to eat it. Although as we
sat a group of monks came past to collect alms, which was a bonus as we had missed them in Luang Prabang. This was a less beautiful setting, yet somehow even more extraordinary due to the ordinariness of the situation.
The cooking group was a lovely mix, with a Pole, 2 Norwegians, a French girl and the 4 of us. The boys opted out of the market visit, parking themselves in front of Cartoon Network, but joined in with relish when we started the class, on tables set up on the pavement, and burners in the shop. The food was great, and even Jake tucked into the Hot and Sour Chicken Soup happily. How much easier cooking at home would be if we had someone to prepare the food and then clear up after! As we cooked we were told stories, including an explanation that “Happy Chicken” was a traditional meal cooked at engagement parties. In Cambodia usually people leave immediately after eating, but when they are served Happy Chicken they stay. We have also seen many places offering Happy Herb pizzas - you have to be careful where you eat and what you order.
After cookery, we
headed off with a chartered tuk tuk to explore the countryside. We saw Sticky Rice Cake village and Fish Paste village before turning down the crocodile farm and heading to the 11th century temple Wat Ek Phnom that locals maintain was the inspiration for Angkor Wat. Our final visit was to the Norri. A Norri is a unique product of the inventiveness of the Cambodian people. It is essentially a bamboo platform with a small motor on it, which is placed onto two sets of wheels and axles. For tourists they are a bit of fun but they are an essential part of the travelling infrastructure for the locals, and attempts to ban them have clearly failed. Tourists have one pretty much to themselves (though we did not object to helping the locals carry some water to another village). The locals however pile them high with goods and even motorbikes and all squeeze on top. When two Norri meet there is an assessment of which is lighter, and then it is dismantled to allow the heavier one to pass. We thoroughly enjoyed our ride, but our driver was at pains to point out that locals depend on them especially in
the rainy season when the roads are flooded. The rails, built high on stone stay drained. It is the best use of an apparently otherwise disused railway track we could imagine although the aging track made for a teeth shattering journey.
Having been returned to our hotel we headed out for tea, and were astonishingly pleased when having ordered Fish Fingers as a treat for Jake and Elliot, they coped admirably with the news that they were out of them and uncomplainingly devoured a stir fried chicken noodles in its place.
Another early morning brought another long distance bus, this time carrying us to Siem Reap. We climbed on the bus to find another family in our designated seats, but there were plenty and it is hard to argue with a family with a baby on a drip. Not for the first time on this trip we were left with an overwhelming realisation of how much we have: health, opportunity, freedom, education, wealth and each other. Arriving at the glorious Golden Banana hotel in Siem Reap only re-emphasised this: lovely self contained one up one down flat with upstairs lounge and bathroom, downstairs bedroom opening out into a
delightfully planted courtyard with a saline swimming pool. Bliss!
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