The journey to Phnom Penh started at 6.45 am and was grueling in every sense of the word. In and of itself it is worth its own separate blog entry. In Phu Quoc I had met an Australian couple my mom's age who quickly became my adoptive parents for the week and with whom I made the journey from Phu Quoc to Cambodia. Before leaving Chau Doc for the Cambodian border we stopped off at an indigenous Cham village along the river. The people here are ethnically Malaysian and practice Islam. Physically, they look very different from traditional Vietnamese, having wider eyes and darker skin, they look more Indian than Vietnamese. The women (even young girls) cover their heads with beautiful lace scarves, the men wear traditional bright Muslim caps on the tops of their heads, and both men and women wear brightly patterned sarongs. It was a striking change from the other indigenous villages I had encountered who are mostly either ethnically Chinese or who have been in Vietnam for centuries. As seems the norm in Vietnam, everyone was very welcoming and full of friendly smiles for us foreigners.
We then pressed on for a three hour very slow boat to the Cambodian border. It was about a 45 kilometer journey and we were going only 15 km (approx. 9 mph!) per hour. It was simply boiling out there on the river with the sun beating down on us and the teasing wind blowing all the trees on the banks yet never making it to those of us in the boat. Finally we arrived at the Vietnamese border and were instructed to haul our heavy rucksacks up a completely vertical dirt hill while the locals simply watched us struggle. We had a hurried lunch, spending the last of our dong, and then made our way to a new Cambodian boat to repeat the process on the Cambodian side. I really can not capture in words the heat during that day. I don't think I have ever sweated that much in my life, literally from every pore. We were 15 in all on the boat and we were all stinky, sweaty, and worn out yet we were only half way through the journey. We were again 3 hours on a very slow and lopsided boat to Cambodia. When we arrived at the Cambodian border and had trudged up the mud hill, we noticed that we were the only group there getting our passports stamped and that there were no border patrol around. We soon realized that that was because they were all having a go at karaoke in the back and couldn't be bothered with us tourists! Soon after, however, we managed to coax them into stamping our visas and letting us on our way. About 15 minutes into the journey the guide asked me to move to the other side so I could even out the boat. However, not only was the other side bathed in scorching sunlight, but I was rather offended that he thought that I was heavy enough to balance out the boat! So about 5 minutes later, literally out of nowhere, a Vietnamese woman appeared and sat down on the other side to even it out. Now, this woman had not been with us for the entire trip and really there are not too many places one can hide on a boat, so I still haven't figured out the mysteries of Cambodian boats.
At about 4.30 pm we disembarked (again up a completely vertical muddy, dirty hill) in Neak Leung only to board a (thankfully air conditioned) bus for another 1.5 hours to the capital. I once thought that Laos had bad roads, but Cambodian roads are by far the worse. Throughout the entire hour and a half we never once met with a level stretch of road but rather bounced, banged, and jostled our way to Phnom Penh. Meanwhile there was the worst monsoonal storm happening outside which only caused the barely passable roads to become even less so and our going even slower. Passing us on all sides were local buses packed with people on the inside, packed with luggage on the roof, and with even more people stacked on top of the luggage all getting absolutely soaked in the pouring rain. Upon arrival in the capital we met with the most extraordinary tangle of traffic I have ever seen. There were people, motorbikes, carts, tractors, luxury cars, trucks, you name it, embroiled in a tangle of traffic which really wasn't even moving. Never mind the lack of traffic police or traffic lights, there weren't even any traffic signs or lane definitions. Instead people simply went where and whenever they pleased expecting everyone else to do the same and somehow everyone got where they needed to go without too much incident. We were finally dumped in the gritty backpacker section of the city and too tired to look for nicer accommodation, I dropped my rucksack at the first grotty place with a/c and promptly ran into some friends I had met in Phu Quoc with whom I spent the rest of the evening. I had a surprisingly good Khmer veggie curry and washed it down with my favorite: BeerLao. Now, if someone had told me the border crossing experience was so torturous I would have simply flown, which I know is somehow cheating, but a girl's gotta have her limits and I certainly have mine!
Today, I woke up early and with my adoptive parents went in search of nicer accommodation on the other side of town. We eventually found something more acceptable, but only after another grueling sweat soaked morning. I am thoroughly looking forward to finally getting the chance to explore the city properly today.
We then pressed on for a three hour very slow boat to the Cambodian border. It was about a 45 kilometer journey and we were going only 15 km (approx. 9 mph!) per hour. It was simply boiling out there on the river with the sun beating down on us and the teasing wind blowing all the trees on the banks yet never making it to those of us in the boat. Finally we arrived at the Vietnamese border and were instructed to haul our heavy rucksacks up a completely vertical dirt hill while the locals simply watched us struggle. We had a hurried lunch, spending the last of our dong, and then made our way to a new Cambodian boat to repeat the process on the Cambodian side. I really can not capture in words the heat during that day. I don't think I have ever sweated that much in my life, literally from every pore. We were 15 in all on the boat and we were all stinky, sweaty, and worn out yet we were only half way through the journey. We were again 3 hours on a very slow and lopsided boat to Cambodia. When we arrived at the Cambodian border and had trudged up the mud hill, we noticed that we were the only group there getting our passports stamped and that there were no border patrol around. We soon realized that that was because they were all having a go at karaoke in the back and couldn't be bothered with us tourists! Soon after, however, we managed to coax them into stamping our visas and letting us on our way. About 15 minutes into the journey the guide asked me to move to the other side so I could even out the boat. However, not only was the other side bathed in scorching sunlight, but I was rather offended that he thought that I was heavy enough to balance out the boat! So about 5 minutes later, literally out of nowhere, a Vietnamese woman appeared and sat down on the other side to even it out. Now, this woman had not been with us for the entire trip and really there are not too many places one can hide on a boat, so I still haven't figured out the mysteries of Cambodian boats.
At about 4.30 pm we disembarked (again up a completely vertical muddy, dirty hill) in Neak Leung only to board a (thankfully air conditioned) bus for another 1.5 hours to the capital. I once thought that Laos had bad roads, but Cambodian roads are by far the worse. Throughout the entire hour and a half we never once met with a level stretch of road but rather bounced, banged, and jostled our way to Phnom Penh. Meanwhile there was the worst monsoonal storm happening outside which only caused the barely passable roads to become even less so and our going even slower. Passing us on all sides were local buses packed with people on the inside, packed with luggage on the roof, and with even more people stacked on top of the luggage all getting absolutely soaked in the pouring rain. Upon arrival in the capital we met with the most extraordinary tangle of traffic I have ever seen. There were people, motorbikes, carts, tractors, luxury cars, trucks, you name it, embroiled in a tangle of traffic which really wasn't even moving. Never mind the lack of traffic police or traffic lights, there weren't even any traffic signs or lane definitions. Instead people simply went where and whenever they pleased expecting everyone else to do the same and somehow everyone got where they needed to go without too much incident. We were finally dumped in the gritty backpacker section of the city and too tired to look for nicer accommodation, I dropped my rucksack at the first grotty place with a/c and promptly ran into some friends I had met in Phu Quoc with whom I spent the rest of the evening. I had a surprisingly good Khmer veggie curry and washed it down with my favorite: BeerLao. Now, if someone had told me the border crossing experience was so torturous I would have simply flown, which I know is somehow cheating, but a girl's gotta have her limits and I certainly have mine!
Today, I woke up early and with my adoptive parents went in search of nicer accommodation on the other side of town. We eventually found something more acceptable, but only after another grueling sweat soaked morning. I am thoroughly looking forward to finally getting the chance to explore the city properly today.
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