So...you wanna shoot da cow...no problem!

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Its 10 Am and myself and Paul are on a bit of a foolish errand, wandering around Phnom Penh looking to buy some watermelons. Why do we need watermelons do you ask? Is it for the ample amounts of vitamin C contained therein?

No, we want to blow some up, with machine guns and hopefully a rocket launcher.

Walk around Bangkok as a tourist and you will have dozens of touts approach and offer you a trip to a ping pong show. In Phnom Penh the touts favorite line is “ You want shooting gun?” or "You like ak47" and most famously "want to go shoot a cow?"

Any conversation about travelling around Cambodia will eventually come to the subject of the shooting ranges and specifically the old urban legend of shooting cows with rocket launchers. Is it true? how much does it cost and most of all do any sickos actually do it?

Cambodia is extremely corrupt and it wasn’t long before the army, or anyone else with access to firearms for that matter, discovered that there are plenty of tourists who will pay handsomely for the thrill of shooting the military's weapons and if you have the dollars pretty much anything can be played with from hand grenades to Rocket propelled grenade launchers. In the old days, this entailed a few corrupt officers filling their car boots with a selection of deadly implements and bringing you into the wilds to fire them off. The government, seeing there was money to be made, took the practice in house to make it semi legal at various army bases dotted around the country.

We jump in the tuk tuk and set off on our way to the first range and ask the tuk tuk driver to make a tactical stop for watermelons. Once he overhears our need for watermelons not for sustenance but for target practice begins the infamous “live targets” pitch.

“You want to buy a live duck or chicken for shooting”

Here it was, I heard the rumours about such practices and always thought they were urban legend, but here it was being pitched to us in real life. Our tuk tuk driver went on to explain that tourists are no longer able to purchase a cow in order to shoot it with a shoulder launched anti tank weapon.

The famous story doing the rounds is that backpackers could shoot a Rocket Launcher for 200 dollars and that for an extra 150 bucks they will throw in an unfortunate cow for you to shoot at. Type shooting cows with rocket launcher into google and you gets buckets of hits related to Cambodia. Personally, aside from it being cruel for the animal, I think you'd have to be a bit of a psychopath to actually want to do it but there are clearly enough crazy people out there if its harked to every tourist who walks the streets.

According to the tuk tuk driver, the government no longer allows bovine demolition, but strangly enough, they re apparently perfectly ok with us shooting military grade automatic weapons at chickens and ducks should we wish. The current government must have a serious grudge against water fowl.

Both myself and Paul politely decline and insist that no animals will be harmed in our mornings entertainment, just a few pieces of fruit. We have no joy locating a vender with watermelons so we settle on some coconuts instead.

We arrive at the first shooting range which turns out to be an army base, the guard beckons the tuk tuk driver down a sly side alley after accepting what appears to be a small bribe to open the traffic barrier and we begin going down a dirt road into the innards of the base. Once there we are hurriedly ushered in behind a sliding gate and surrounded by several Cambodian men in uniforms totting guns and smoking cigarettes in a spartan courtyard next to a parked armored personnel carrier. Both myself and Paul are feeling a bit frightened at this point.

A man in a tank top and army camos tells us to sit down and offers us a beer and then the “Menu” is produced. Most of the items on this menu are strictly inedible and originate from the united states Russia, and France. National specialty include the american M16, Russian Ak47 and the french Famas, the latter option unfortunately was defective so I wasn't able to give it a go, although I was able to work 'Is that Famas functional” into a daily conversation which if any of you have played metal gear solid will know is pretty cool.

The one catch was the price, through plenty of research on the internet told us that the prices offered to us that day were about 200% higher then what they were a few years ago. 15 bullets with an m16 cost a whopping 40 dollars US while shooting off a RPG will set you back a hefty wedge of 350 dollars. With these prices in front of us we certainly weren’t able to go berserk. We decided to go to a different shooting range but shoot off a gun each here just to keep the large amount of gun totting company sweet. I settled for an Ak47 while Paul went with Uncle Sam's workhorse the M16 and we were led into the range, a long dirty lane way where we were given the opportunity to set up our coconuts. I was first in line and a soldier hands me an AK47 that look like it had been run over twice with a tractor. I flick it onto single shot, I only have 25 rounds so I want to make them last and try to centre the coconut in the iron sights. I pull the trigger and the gun bucks, walloping my shoulder and I swore I could see the whole furniture of the gun bend. The bullet kicks up dirt just to the left of the coconut so I correct my aim, im sure I have it lined up correctly this time and am rewarded by another battering to my shoulder and a wasted explosion of earth, in and around the coconut. The stubborn fruit remains unscathed.

Right, no more Mr nice guy I think and I flick the selector switch from single shot to fully automatic, no more messing, this fruit was now going down and it was going to look like a split bottle of Malibu by the time I was finished with it. I pull the trigger and all hell breaks loose, the wooden stock convulses into my collar bone, a barrage of hot lead flies up the range and begins to churn the dirt pile at the far end of the range into a cloud of dust. I can hear Paul manically laughing behind my back and the only reason I'm not laughing is because I'm convinced this antiquated rifle is going to blow up in my face. The rifle clicks empty and the dust clears...Mr coconut is sitting there completely whole and undamaged, the muck and scattered pieces of brickwork around it completely pockmarked and chewed up by the gunfire. The Cambodian range master is in hysterics laughing and Paul is already nudging me out of the way so he can try his luck with the m16. Unlike me, he doesn't get overexcited and wisely sticks to single shots the entire time. 15 shots later and again the coconut is completely undamaged. Note to all of you, if Cambodia ever invades Ireland and myself and Paul are conscripted to defend the country, get yourselves a head start and start learning Khmer!

Feeling pretty embarrassed that despite using two deadly weapons neither of us could manage to kill even a humble coconut we saddle up in the tuk tuk, promising the driver not to tell anyone of our pathetic shooting skills we decide to check out another range in a hope it was more competitive price wise. Our driver was no longer trying to twist our arm into buying live animals to shoot at, no doubt he now knew that given myself and Paul's recent shooting display, such an animal would in no danger.

We arrive at the next range after quite a drive, this one is based in a training centre for Cambodia’s special forces. On the way in, there are all sorts of assault courses and climbing nets and just outside the range a whole clearing full of deactivated mortars, tanks and anti aircraft guns. At the sight of this myself and Paul start grinning like tinkers who just broke into a building site and figured out how to hotwire the JCB. We start excitedly running about climbing onto the armored cars and messing around with the other hardware generally making Derek and his friends gasoline fight in the film Zoolander look safe.

Prices in this range are a lot better compared to the last but by no means cheap. Paul goes for a double package of a Ruger Handgun and a much more healthy looking Ak47 then the one I shot previously. My budget allowed me only one more choice so I had to choose carefully and I settled with a belt fed Russian PK light machingun with a 50 round belt. Each bullet was bigger then my middle finger. The Cambodian's at the range tell us not to shoot too many bullets as they need them for Thailand, i'm not sure if they are joking or not.

One of the soldiers brought me into an indoor range made of stacked concrete blocks and set the weapon down on a tripod. I had asked to load the gun myself but was given a dirty look and the man went about clicking the belt of ammunition into place. Once it was done I was asked if I required a duck to shoot at. He beckons over his shoulder as he says this and lo and behold there it is, located just 50 yards from the range is a cage filled with ducks and chickens.

“No thank you” I reply

“Why only 15 dollar?”

“Because its cruel?” I offer

The Cambodians all roar laughing.

In fairness despite the humane aspect opening up on an innocent duck with a weapon that’s designed to cover advancing infantry just seems a little bit one sided. The Tuk tuk driver then whispers in my ear that buying a duck would have been a waste of money anyway as after a broadside from the PK I was shooting there would "Not be much good meat left for eating". Rotton.

I aim down the sights of this thing at nothing in particular, im far too excited to think about what exactly I'm supposed to aim at. This thing is fearsome looking and it feels scary just being close to it, let alone holding the weapon. After taking a deep breath, I pull the trigger and you hear the waves of pressure change in the small firing pit and the guns muzzle flash blocks out the sights. I squeeze the trigger firing off bursts of 3 to 5 rounds a piece, the recoil so violent at one point one side of my ear protection comes off and I have partial hearing loss that lasts most of the morning. The barrel of the gun begins to sizzle like a grill full of sausages and smoke begins to steam off it with the heat of the barrage and again I’m petrified the gun will explode in my face. Once the 50 round round belt is spent im choking on a mixture of smoke and cordite, one of my ears is ringing and I can hardly hear Paul’s excited laughing over my shoulder, its impossible to see downrange due to the smoke.

Unfortunately funds permitted we had to end the fun there, a bazooka was 350 dollars to shoot, about 3 times the price we expected it to be, and the guys at the range were having none of our haggling and we decided to leave with haste, we were quite fired up at this point and the chances of us getting excited and splashing out a small fortune were high so we got the tuk tuk to take us home for a beer filled debriefing.

Later that evening we had the pleasure of watching a white knuckle game of Rugby in the sports bar, Leinster VS Toulouse. Myself and Paul were biting our nails to stumps and blondie was screeching the windows off the pub in excitment. The team was magnificent, you could force feed Heaslip poster paints and his bowels would produce Botticelli's The Birth of Venus. Leinster won and in celebration we made our way to the river front where we began to sample any "blue coloured cocktails" the various bars had. Not exactly the drink of choice to dispel the Leinster supporters are all ladyboys tag.

The next morning(or evening to be exact) heads were sore, paul and I were watching Sharktopus, which we had attempted to watch the previous night but fell asleep. I can tell you its quite difficult to watch with a hangover. A couple of BeerLao bottles, last nights leftovers, were consumed in order to stomach a second round of Sharktopus, and were going down about as well as battery acid. Then the phone rang.

"Hello Sir, there is tuk tuk driver outside to bring you to see Kymer Boxing"

What? We can't remember any boxing? Whose idea was that?News to both myself and Paul. We stare at each other looking completly confused, while the din of the mighty Sharktopus messily consuming his 500th bikini clad damsel in the 78 minute running time thunders in the background.

Niamh decided to enlighten us. Apparently before myself and Paul insisted we return from a nearby bar for "Sharktopus time" ( we fell asleep 10 minutes in) both myself and Paul befriended a tuk tuk driver and enthusiastically arranged to go view some Kymer boxing the next day. Both of us were very excited about the planned activity and post mortom of last nights photographs did indeed show myself and Paul with our arms around the tuk tuk driver in question in a state of extreme merriment.

I suppose we better go then? We both said and away we went. At least we only agreed to spectate and not take part.

The arena is located on the outskirts of Phnom Penh in the middle of a large industrial building, the thin metal walls vibrate with the baying crowd and the clash of traditional Khmer instruments, sweat from so many bodies in one place drips from every corner. Myself and Paul sit up on our seats, a pile of stacked industrial pallets and watch the show. Khmer Boxing is very different from the boxing at home and similar to Thai boxing so I have been told. In Thai and Khmer boxing, punches are merely the icing on the cake, the bread and butter is using ones knees and elbows. One look around the crowd and you can see the spectators gestating fiercely through clinched teeth and spraying spittle by swinging their elbows, willing their backed fighter to make the decisive blow.

Its fairly brutal stuff but it all goes up a notch when the 3rd fight begins, this one involves two girls, one of which looks like she could take on the entire Cusack stand with one hand tied behind her back. The crowd giggles at the prospect of a girl vs girl bout but the laughter is soon silenced. The women are much more aggressive then the blokes were and when it was all over they didn't even embrace each other . Myself and Paul watched the whole thing with our hands over our eyes and afraid to make eye contact lest one of the Amazonian s in the ring comes up and punches our lights out.

After 3 hours of this and our voices hoarse, it was back to the hotel for some much deserved burgers. Paul is leaving tomorrow, but did we have some adventures!

Now someone pass me the green tea and a vegetable stirfry...I'm going to be healthy for a while.

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Photos

Biggs with an m16 fitted with m203
For 100 US you get to pop off both the grenade and the bullets

Is that Famas functional?
Unfortunately they said it wasn't!

Paul take the picture Quick!
I really didn't feel comfortable holding that shell

Just add Angkor beer
For best results!

Boxing arena
Woman on Woman kick boxing is a fearsome sight!