Bangkok and Cambodia

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Last heard from we were en route from India to Bangkok via Sri Lanka.....

In Bangkok, the tribal trappings of the backpacking battalions of Khao San Road and the pornographic play acting of Pat Pong was a shock re-introduction to ultra-modernity, an overwhelming touristic presence and Thais full of tricks.

One Monday I put on a bright yellow T-shirt and went out to see nearly all locals wearing the same. A guy in the street explained Thais always wear yellow on Mondays in adoration of their king. The friendly chap then proceeded us to embroil us in a "seemingly nice guy on street/complicit tuk-yuk driver/unscrupulous tourist agency" visa scam in which luckily all we lost was half an hour and 60 cents and we gained a heightened awareness. We took another tuk-tuk to the Vietnamese embassy, stopping in a tailors to pretend for 10 minutes that we were interested in having a pair of trousers made so the driver could get a $5 petrol coupon and we could get a cheap ride. Over the next few days while waiting for our passports back we looked around at the classic-gaudy palaces and temples on show in Bangkok and had 2 entertaining nights out - one at Thai Kick Boxing and another seeking out ladies with ping pong ball firing fannies. We found all sorts of talented women who could absorb objects of varying sharpness, particularly adroit was the girl who could fire darts to burst balloons, but the holy grail of ping pong projecting nether parts was uninspiring when tracked down - the balls rolled out rather than flying. I told Bla that if she did have a job to give up I wouldn't advise swapping to this line of work. Didn't get any pictures of the performances.

Left Bangkok for Siem Reap in Cambodia, the base for exploring Angkor Wat on the cheapest trip we could find despite warnings against cowboys who would dump us on the side of the road saying the bus was broken, without any suggestion of a refund. As soon as on the bus it started - the guide would be getting our Cambodia visas for us and there would be a 50% markup, already making the trip not so cheap. We said we would get them ourselves at the border, but he said he couldn't guarantee the bus would wait for us if we were doing it ourselves and advised us us to use his "service". Once at their restaurant 8km short of the border, ourselves and some comrades struck out solo to get our visas and wait at the far side for the others, who were lunching while the "service" was rendered to them, to come through. We got through no problem, paying $25 for a $20 visa, the border guard pocketing the other fiver. When I questioned the surcharge he said it was the "acceleration fee", the slow version took 5 hours! Through the border we went, and there Bla was meant to call our booked hostel in Siem Reap to confirm we were on our way. At the phone booth - i.e. on some tout's mobile - Bla was put through to some other hotel that the guy had called after offering to dial the number for us. Bla copped on and nearly threw the phone at the guy. We called the correct one and told him of our progress. Then the phone rang, it was the bogus hotel ringing back to say he had a room for us no problem! Our advanced guard gang then sat down to wait for the other 30 who had been on the bus to the border to get through. After 2 hours of waiting, with constant abuse from the Cambodian touts shouting at us to get on another bus that would cost 3 times the price of the ticket we'd already bought all the way to Siem Reap, the real fun started. The rep from the Cambodian side of the bus company said he had not been paid by the Thai side to take us any further, and we would have to make our own arrangements. They kept that up for another hour, trying to get rid of us, but we stood our ground and had a plan to storm the bus when the others were getting on. I took down the names of 2 of the reps from the company and that seemed to make them more annoyed, but a bit nervous too. When the others eventually came through,we buried ourselves in the middle of them and having seen that their scare tactics were not working, they just let us on. It became clear why they had been so keen to get rid of us as some people had gotten sick of waiting and headed on themsleves - they would not have fit on the Cambodian bus anyway as it was smaller than the Thai one! We crawled to Siem Reap with an apparent slow puncture, arriving too late for anyone to look for accomodation other than the bus company's. Out of respect, we went round to the guy we had booked and confirmed with but he had given our room away, but the bus company's hotel rooms were cheaper anyway so we went to bed feeling battered but victorious.

Siem Reap seems ready to accomodate the whole entourage of the Olympics if it ever comes to Angkor Wat - its covered in impressive new 5 star hotels. Hope they get the business. The ruins of Angkor Wat themselves are as impressive as everyone says, the Khmer regime that built them are to Cambodia what Ghengis Khan was to Mongolia - THE source of national pride. Almost every painting I saw in Cambodia was of Angkor Wat. Most structures in the place are being restored by a sponsorring country and the projects seem to reflect the countries' characters. The Germans are slowly and methodically doing up Angkor Wat itself. The French are doing up another temple, have all the theory explained in detail on site about their intentions and are doing a classy job. The Chinese are there and seem to be flying ahead of everyone, but their result looks like it will be incongruously shiny. The Indians are tying bits of string round anything that looks like it might fall down. I wondered what the Irish would have done given the chance - probably have gotten bogged down in planning issues and then built an apartment complex.

We bussed down to Phnom Penh, the capital, and got stuck into a bit of misery tourism by heading out to the Killing fields on the outskirts where 8000 skulls of the 8800 people exhumed there are stored in a shrine, most of them were clubbed to death to save bullets. To cheer ourselves up we cycled to the S21 prison in town to see where victims of Pol Pots Khmer rouge were tortured before they were brought to aforementioned killing fields. The perpetrators of these horrors are unlikely to be brought to justice any time soon as many of them hold important positions in the government today, like prime minister for example! The cycling was an experience in itself as there seems to be one rule and one loose guideline governing the roads of Phnom Penh - rule: if you can get to a point on the road before any other entity, you have right of way at that point; loose guideline: drive on the right. After all that I needed my emotions unwound so I had a medium size, medium strength "Happy pizza". The happiness derived from the herbal topping which looked like, but was not, extra basil. The effects were medium.

Bussed on down to Sihanoukville, a beach town on the gulf of Thailand in the south. Sihanouk after whom the town is named, is a smooth operator - put in as king by the French, he managed to wangle independence from them for the country, then abdicated to make his father king and get himself elected as prime minister. Ousted in a CIA? instigated coup he threw his lot in with the Khmer Rouge while in exile in China. He backed the losing side there, but once the UN came in and made the country have democratic elections he reappeared to be king again and is still there now kept alive by a few Chinese assisted organ transplants - long live the King! Over dinner one evening we considered buying a hostel down there for US$70k off an Ozzie guy who wanted to sell. It seemed like a good life changing possibility until we later found out that the Ozzie has a 5 year lease for the land from a guy who has a 30 year lease off a guy who doesn't have any papers to prove its his. Most of Cambodia is like that since the Khmer Rouge "lost" most land title records after deciding there would be no such thing as private property. Went out to an island off the coast where there were 10 huts, 10 cannons and about 10 illegal Vietnamese fishermen who had bribed the guys with the cannons not to use the weapons on them. The island was beautiful anyway, although the sea lice made swimming a bit uncomfortable at times. Back on main land I started my sailing career by going out on a 2 person Catamaran for 3 hours, making it back to within 300m of land, getting becalmed as the sun set and being pushed in by a kayaker.

Back in Phnom Penh and tried doing a crawl of bars previously frequented by UN people there in '93 to democratise the country. Started with a large, max strength "Happy" pizza to ensure at least some effect and didn't feel right in the head (in as much as I ever do) until about 24 hours later. Made it to one bar and just made it back to our hotel before it disappeared into a black hole in my mind!

Headed up to Rattanakiri in the North east, stopping overnight in Kratie to see rare Irawaddi dolphins who dutifully flashed fins for us, though being the shy type weren't exactly making friends with us. Stopped to replace all the belts in the buses engine, and again to swap the whole bus for one with a similarly fibre glass repaired cracked windscreen. Spent 3 days in what is left of the jungle as minorities like to sell their land and burn down a new bit of jungle to live on when short of enough cash to buy a new Honda. One minority group there - the Krung - have the interesting custom of building a new mini hut for their daughters when they turn 15. All the young potentates in the village are then allowed to come and have a go on her until she decides which one she loves the most. I reckon Richard Attenborough could do a great night vision documentary on the after dark goings on around the mini huts. In one village a guy cycled up in a suit on a high nelly with a clipboard and 2 parrots, one plucked that he had shot with a sling shot on the way home from work. Slept in a hammock in same hut as 4 of 7 kids of the typically productive jungle ranger. Had a shower under a waterfall, got up early one morning to locate a family of gibbons. We found them but besides the ranger's chickens, dogs and cats, some hornbills, some bear claw marks on honey containing trees and some porcupine shite, there was not much fauna to be seen. I asked the lone ranger how he protected the species of the jungle, he said if there are suspicious actions he calls the police, I asked did he have a phone, he said no he had to run to his village 2 hours away.

Got a bus back to our hub Phnom Penh again, again replacing all the belts in the engine of the broken windscreened bus. In PP we went to visit an orphanage. On the way we picked up a 50kg bag of rice for $30. While in a different market looking for a football for the kids we found rice should only cost 15 to 18 dollars. Livid with our driver who was sworn to get us a good price for our rice we made him make a significant return journey to bring our UN priced rice back and bought a bag for $15, a football and some biscuits. The driver tried to drop us off at a centre for teenagers' education, but we insisted on going to where we had asked him to take us. On arrival we were overwhelmed by orphans who had alot of footballs already but were grateful for everything they got. I asked the organiser there how much a bag of rice should cost and he said max $25, but as long as we didn't buy the $15 stuff we were alright, because the kids can't digest that! We didn't know what to do or say about our gifted bag of indigestion causing rice so we said and did nothing and hoped they'd figure it out themselves, after all they eat the stuff 3 times daily so should be able to tell good from bad. We played football with the kids for an hour and headed off feeling semi benevolent.

Cambodia still bears alot of scars of war, not least on the omnipresent amputees, victims of Khmer rouge randomly deployed landmines. It also was a great country to discover new things. We ate alot of fruit there nobody could tell us the English name of and "I don't know what it's called, but it tastes great" became a catchphrase.

Next we got on a boat and floated off down the Mekong towards Saigon and a few weeks in Vietnam.....

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Comments

[Stevie Carroll]

Uncle Ben you're not!
Guys, I love the rice story, second only to the ping pong lady quest! Anyway, we're totally westernized again after 3 months here and we'll have to psyche ourselves up this weekend before hopping from Rip-of-Ireland to Really-rip-you-off-Bangkok!