There's no such thing as a free tuk tuk ride

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...and one hundred and one other scams to learn between Bangkok and Cambodia:

1. If it sounds too good to be true it probably is. This is the number one scam I've learnt to look out for and avoid, very difficult for penny pinching backpackers to resist though. Only $2 you say? Wow that's so cheap I have to do it! Hmm, no actually I don't.
2. The temple/palace/hotel/whatever that you wish to go to is open and welcoming paying visitors, but your guide/tuk tuk driver/random stranger on the street won't be benefiting from a healthy commission so will do everything they can to convince you that it's a public holiday/only open to locals this morning/closed down/owned by bad people/too far etc etc in a bid to get you to go to their temple/travel agents/hotel/gem shop.
3. Just because it says TAT on the travel agents sign, does not mean it is either the official Thai tourist information centre, or in any way endorsed by them. That will not stop the man inside insisting they are basically working on government orders to ensure your safety and happy stay in Thailand by selling you ridiculously overpriced tours.
4. When your tuk tuk driver says “here you are, take your time”, what he really means is “make sure you stay in this travel agents (which I have driven you to pretending it is the official TAT office that you requested) until the agent inside has sold you as many expensive tours as possible as i'm on commission and want as much of your money as can be conned out of you”.
(Actually there is such a thing as a free tuk tuk ride as it happens. When we cottoned on to the above scam and moved on out we stopped to talk to some travellers who had just arrived from Cambodia. Angry that we were about to get all the free advice we needed and would be totally put off their overpriced tours the agents started forcing us out of their office and our tuk tuk driver, furious at loosing his commission, refused to continue our tour and drove off in a storm without payment!)
5. Everything in Cambodia can be bought with US dollars, no matter what the guy at the border tells you, you do not need to change lots of money into Cambodian riel. It is a major hassle to use riel for almost any purchase and the rate to change back to dollars is often crap.
6. The private aircon bus you've booked from the border to Siem Reap is apparantly actually a public chicken bus and won't be departing for another 2 hours and will stop at every village along the 130km bumpy road. But it's ok, here's an arrogant travel rep who will happily pocket your bus money and organise a taxi for you to leave straight away and go direct to your hotel for an extra £5.
7. Despite paying for a taxi to take you all the way to the front door of your hotel, don't actually expect it to without a major fight. Much easier for them to dump you at a tourist information centre ('travel agents') and cram you in a 'free' tuk tuk on commission to a crappy guest house you don't want to stay at and then charge you a fortune to go to the hotel you've already booked. In this case keep your bum firmly on your seat and patiently explain to 15 or 20 different agents that you have paid for the taxi to take you to your hotel and will they please go find the taxi driver so you can go there before steam starts coming out of your ears and you explode. Hopefully they'll get bored before you do.
8. If the steward offers you a welcome drink on the train, or a lady hands you an incense stick at a temple, or a small child trys to put a bracelet on your wrist...you will have to hand over cash in return.
9. Chances are that man on the motorbike begging you to teach english at his school will want you to cough up a wad of cash for the pleasure.
10. Chances are that woman on the street asking you to sponsor a child will not be giving your details and money to some poor orphan or bona fide charity.

But then what if it's not a scam?
What if the nice man at the temple is just pleased that foreigners are still braving his city despite the recent turmoil and wants to offer them advice to ensure they have a great time and tell their friends to come back too?
What if the woman at the roadside restaurant is just friendly and happy at the chance to practice her english so she can get a better job one day?
What if the child selling postcards isn't being exploited but is desperately helping his family to earn enough money each day to feed themselves?

I'm hoping I'll somehow get better at telling the difference, in the mean time it feels such a shame to spend all my time doubting everything I'm told, constantly being on guard, avoiding eye contact and conversation, when there are those magic moments to be had when a small child calls out hello to you or an elderly fruit seller gives you a toothy grin in return for your cheerful nod.




It's not all been bad at all really, although there have been a couple of full on days in the past week when it seems that every trick in the book has been thrown at us, usually when we arrive in a new city bleary eyed and bruised from bumpy journeys.

We left Chiang Mai precisely on time on the 6.55pm train to Bangkok. Our 2nd class sleeper carriage was clean and comfy with spacious seats that - with a few nifty well practiced moves by our carriage steward - miraculously converted into beds with linen, blankets and curtains. Thirteen hours later we rolled into Bangkok, maybe not fresh faced, but having slept surprisingly well between the jolts and bumps in the tracks.

Just like Nairobi a couple of months ago, I felt a certain amount of apprehension about arriving in Bangkok, particularly as we were headed straight for the infamous Khaosan Road. A city notorious for scams, exotic entertainment and drunken revelry, it was not half as full on as I was expecting. The only snakes we saw were wooden and their blood was not being downed in shot glasses. I studied the bar girls faces under their icing of make up for signs of masculinity and was disappointed to see no chiselled features or stubble. The most hardcore services touted at us were for bespoke mens suits or bamboo tattoos, neither of which appealed. Our hotel didn't let us down though, it was suitably grim and grimy, with grafitti and holes in the walls, and the all prevailing smell of mould competing with the wiff of sweaty feet.

We spent two days wandering up and down Khaosan and Rambutri Roads, sampling the deep fried snacks on offer (mini coconut frittatas came out tops for me), rehydrating with fruit shakes, relaxing with a foot massage and cooling down every half an hour in an airconditioned 7-eleven, trying to resist buying ice creams. Each evening we'd dine on Pad Thai and drink pitchers of Singha beer while watching the stream of backpackers walking past and making bitchy comments about the various interesting fashion statements we spotted.
As well as people spotting we also did some temple spotting, taking in a very big standing Buddha, a medium sized reclining Buddha and a small emerald Buddha. We thought we better save the massive reclining Buddha for the next time we pass through Bangkok, you can have too much excitement in one day and we wouldn't want to Buddha ourselves out.

Having fallen for the old crossing-into-Cambodia-get-a-bus-from-your-hotel scam (at least they didn't drop us in the middle of nowhere like some of the horror stories we'd read) we eventually made it to Siem Reap, home of the immense temple complexes of Angkor Wat et al. I'll write a separate blog about that, anything that's been around for 1000 years deserves the respect of it's own entry I feel, plus I took about 1000 photos so need the space! As well as exploring World Heritage Sites I got the chance to catch up with World friends in Siem Reap. Of all the places for a spontaneous mini truck reunion, who would have thought a small town in Cambodia would be the place I catch up with my friend Han for the first time since saying goodbye to him 3 years ago in Cameroon? Han arrived in the middle of a biblical rainstorm so we sat in my hotel bar drinking Angkor and Beer Laos and catching up while lightening flickered the lights and thunder cracked overhead.

Our whistle stop tour of Cambodia continued with a bus to Battambang (or Battenberg as I insist on remembering it). This time we were on Cambodian time and in a Cambodian bus. This meant garish floral curtains and deafeningly loud pop videos of girls slashing their wrists and men shooting themselves in the name of love. Ladies in wide straw hats came onto the bus selling fruit and waffles every time it stopped, babies screamed endlessly, flat fields of rice extended to the horizon in all directions outside the window. I decided I quite liked Cambodia. Walking down the dusty street in Battambang - dodging hundreds of motorbikes, food stalls and plastic tables lining the street, children smiling and waving - I got that familiar feeling of excitement I get when I walk down a street in Africa. The senses are assaulted, the traffic is mad, the fish and meat in the market stinks, the heat is oppressive, the rain falls in fat drops drumming on tin roofs and it makes me feel alive!

In Battambang we found ourselves another highly recommended cafe: The Gecko Cafe, which trains up locals in the hospitality industry and ensures they are well fed and have the skills to go on to better lives. We found a similar enterprise called Friends in Phnom Penh which I also definitely recommend. For our benefit we got delicious fruit shakes and cocktails paninis with pesto, sweet potato chips and garlic bread. I'm nowhere near getting bored of noodles, curries and rice yet, but I can't resist good bread when it's on offer and am loving the French legacy of crusty baguettes that seems to be as prevalent in its Asian colonies as it was in Africa. The English have a lot to answer for, leaving their poor colonies with sliced white as a delicacy!

In fact, far from being bored of local food, I am enjoying it so much I booked another cookery class, this time at Smokin' Pot restaurant, where I learnt to cook Khmer staples like Fish Amok (similar to thai curry), Beef Lok Lak (really peppery) and Chicken Soup (really spicy!) and then gobbled them all down. The course also included a trip around the market, much better than the one we visited in Chiang Mai this was a real, flies and all third-world market with every conceivable animal body part on offer and fish still flapping away as their heads are chopped off! The people in the market were so friendly, as they have been everywhere in Cambodia, despite the horror stories we had been told of being scammed at every turn. The Cambodian men love to joke and mess around, always playing tricks on their friends while the kids all shout hello and wave.

All that hard work cooking and eating meant a well deserved massage was needed. I went to a place next to our hotel called Seeing Hands where blind people have been trained as masseuses and have built up a thriving empire of massage parlours across the country. After an hour of medium pain, dozing, and being twisted into yoga positions I was ready for a cocktail with a couple from my cooking course, and my day of learning and relaxing was complete.

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Photos

Khosan Road, Bangkok
backpacker watching central

Just one of the weird and wonderful sights on the Khosan Road
accompanied by cheesy dance music!

Coconut pancakes/frittas
they're soooo yummy!

Grand Palace
they do like their big gold things out here!

Comments

[rsp2538]

thanks for sharing! safety sign