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Published: October 5th 2011
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Classes finished at 8.15pm. The bus was waiting outside our house at 8.30. We were distracted in class that afternoon, giddy with excitement, and we sped home on our bicycles like wild things. We could have been mistaken for adolescent students, but we are the teachers...
Chris and I are lucky to be living in a house close to the Russian Market, which we share with our workmates; ten likeminded and wonderful individuals. Up to this point we had completed three weeks of volunteer teaching in Phnom Penh, and thanks to the Ph’chum Benh festival we were afforded some holiday time. We took this as an opportunity to escape the madness (and truly, it is madness) of the city and through the night, and the rain, we drove southbound to the beach town of Sihanoukville.
Having been forewarned about the intense flooding that has affected so much of the country, the worst in 11 years, we were reluctant to rise from our beds after minimal sleep to catch the 7am ferry from Sihanoukville to Koh Rong (commonly referred to as “Monkey Island”, and our final destination), especially as the sky was overcast and the waves were rumoured to be
large. However, the captain gave us the go ahead, and other than facing a minor inconvenience in the way of traffic at the docks, it was literally smooth sailing for the two hour voyage.
Initially, I was reluctant to write this blog. I didn’t want to share Koh Rong with others, for fear of its exploitation and inevitable change. I will be miserable to return (and I will return) to my precious island and find it changed, irreversibly; massage parlours, neon lights and neon painted teenagers. The next Koh Phi Phi. But it felt as though not to share would be a contradiction of travel ethos, and “sharing is caring”, as they say.
So, I’ll share our secret with you, and you are welcome. Even on this grey-sky day, upon arrival our island was radiant. As a group we walked along the weather beaten, wooden pier. On our left were fishing boats and long-ago painted timber homes clustered together: a small village over run with small children and small dogs. To our right was a long stretch of white sand beach along which we found our lodgings. Yet again we stayed at “Paradise Bungalows” and yet again paradise
did not disappoint us.
By all accounts, Koh Rong is the size of Hong Kong, with only a few small villages of inhabitants who are not indigenous people but crab fishers who relocated to the island some years ago. For the most part the island is thick, cobra inhabited jungle but around the way we were told of a 7km stretch of undeveloped, uninterrupted beach which, due to the wet season (and not to mention the snakes), we did not get to see.
That first day we filled our time with a little eating, a little sleeping, a little drinking and a little swimming when the weather was fine. Our bungalows were set up on a hill giving us the benefit of great views, although we spent little time in them, often choosing to spend time together in the comfortable lounge and restaurant area. Later that evening we drank a little more and once we had succumbed to that merry, red wine feeling we took our revelry down to the beach.
Throwing caution (and clothing) to the wind we partook in a little night swimming and had revealed to us the most unique and remarkable attribute of our
special island: Phosphorescence!
To save on technicalities, phosphorescence is essentially a variety of plankton which glows iridescent when disturbed. Our every movement in the water was accompanied by a blue-green glow and the experience as a whole probably amounts to one of the most wonderful things I have ever partaken in. More than an hour later we were still avidly cooing at the magic lights, squealing as the generator impeded, the electricity cut out and the glow grew in luminosity. I was astounded. I felt like the luckiest girl alive, perhaps I am.
Each day we waited for night time, to swim: the stars above us and surrounding us in the twinkle-teeming Thai gulf. We got experimental. Cause and effect: jiggle your finger in your belly button quick enough and it will look like a Catherine Wheel. We waited for the rain: our private light show creating small explosions of light and colour with every drop. We fetched goggles for the ultimate underwater experience.
Back on terra firma we regressed to our usual conventionalism (i.e. got dressed) and headed over to the Monkey Island bar for more drinks. Here the bar staff are a young crowd and
the Khmer staff are particularly friendly! When it was time to call it a night we began the pitch-black-struggle of locating our beds. Thank fully Chris and I had remembered our head lamp (pros!).
That night as I lay salty and snoring under my mosquito net I dreamt of someone shouting me. Later I realised that oh! someone was actually shouting me! Our housemates Natalie (from South Africa) and Dominique {New Zealand) were occupying the bungalow next to us. At 4 am they were urgently calling out for our assistance as “something” was in their room. “Something big”. In broken spectacles and a florescent pink bath towel, armed with broom and trusty headlamp, Chris valiantly ventured into the night to rescue the girls. The beast was nowhere to be seen, so back to bed he came. 4:15am came around and Chris was out again, the bugger was back! Once our “hero” was satisfied that the mystery creature was no longer a threat he returned to find his girlfriend in a state of stress induced migraine..
Next morning we were relieved to hear that the late night delinquents were only monkeys, but less comforted by the advice we were
given: don’t move too quickly or they’ll bite. But still, monkey trumps large, man eating, wild cat any day of the week.
After breakfasting Chris and I took ourselves and our camera for a walk towards to village. As we approached we stopped to watch a group of very naked children running around, swimming and being generally free spirited. One little girl (with big personality) spotted us and ran at me like a little whirlwind, followed by the remainders of her nude faction. We played there for quite a while and they enjoyed showing us their makeshift toys and best swimming practise and they asked to have their photographs taken so that they could see their image looking back from the screen afterwards. These uninhibited, wayward children were such a pleasure to be around, and in fact over the days to follow we spent quite some time with them whenever we saw them. One time we were playing on the beach when the kids legged it down the pier, undressing as they went, and threw themselves headfirst into the deep blue. That is until an angry Mama came out with a big stick which later made contact with a
few bottoms... but she had to catch them fist.
Due to the rainy season we spent much of our time relaxing; reading books and enjoying conversation whilst reclined on cushions and enjoying great views. The weather did not detract from our experience in the island. Actually it prolonged our enjoyment, holding us hostage one extra night (our fourth) as no boats were willing to take us back to the mainland due to rough conditions. I was not-so-secretly thrilled! I did not feel cheated or that I was missing out on the party scene that evening in touristy Sihanoukville.
When the time came to leave we did so reluctantly, relaxed and content to have found a little place in the world which was still as yet unblemished.
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auspicious
Michelle Duer
Lucky you!
I agree that there\'s nothing quite like the phosphorescent creatures of the ocean. Once you\'ve seen it, you can\'t get enough of it. :)