Siem Reap and Phnom Penh for the last time

Unfortunately this was to be the last full day of our adventure through Vietnam and Cambodia and although we were ready to move on from Vietnam, we were far from ready to leave Cambodia. This friendly, stunning nation had only been our home for just over a week but I’d certainly fallen in love with it.

After the bacon omelette breakfast (we didn’t even have to order) we were ready to do some souvenir shopping at the old market so the free tuk tuk from the hotel was fired up for us.

It had become obvious over the last few weeks that our backpacks were not going to be sufficient to bring back the souvenirs, clothes and momentos that we’d amassed over the last month so another fake The Northern Face bag was going to be essential… at US$12 ($1 cheaper than the one purchased a few nights earlier), we set out to see if we could fill it.

The Angkor Wat painting was almost a compulsory purchase (US12) but the remainder of the next hour and a half was spent wandering and rewandering the depths of the Old Market. I picked up a pair of jandals (US$4), a kilo of Cambodia’s finest coffee cost US$6 and we frittered off even more greenbacks on hammocks, scarves and asian style rice field hats.

All that shopping can really take it out of two ailing tourists so a final call on Dr Fish was required. Jo dipped her feet into the pond for a final tickle while I has a cut throat shave (US$2) and a back, hand and head massage (US$3 for 30 minutes). The poor masseuse was all of a quarter of my size and she had a hell of a job trying to move me about… my old man knees, shoulders and lower back refusing to play ball with her intentions. I’m not one for massages generally but I could feel the four weeks of travel weariness lift, albeit briefly.

I came back down the stairs to find Jo having a chat to Pheap, our tuk tuk driver from a few days before. He had used some of the good tip I had left with him to buy us some da cau shuttlecocks and a sepak takraw ball. We’d been discussing da cau with Pheap over our snake lunch and he’d made the effort to get us the shuttlecocks required to play It’s very common to be ripped off by tuk tuk drivers in most countries in the world – I’d bet there wouldn’t be another place where your driver shows up the next day bearing gifts. We thanked him and reconfirmed our tuk tuk to the airport at 1300.

Our hotel tuk tuk was booked for 1100 but showed up a little late so we sat in a corner cafe with icecreams and beer until our man arrived. It was rather an emotional journey leaving such an enjoyable town for the last time.

Back at The Moon Boutique Hotel we emptied out our two new bags and my backpack and proceeded to try and fit everything into them. It took equal amounts of careful planning and brute force but we managed it eventually. There was just enough time for a final swim before we had to check out and say goodbye to the staff.

Pheap showed up soon after and we hit the dirt road for the final time on the way to the airport – around 30 minutes away.

As we pulled in the security staff gave us a big smile and even when our cabin bags were opened after the xray, the bloke was friendly, courteous and smiled throughout.

Our plane was due to leave at 1420 but we were in the air at 1412 and on the ground in Phnom Penh at 1451.

The US$7 tuk tuk from the airport to The Landscape Hotel took around 45 minutes in heavy traffic but there was still an hour or so of daylight left after we checked in and reclaimed the backpack we’d left in the hotels control before heading north to Siem Reap.

Before we’d left Phnom Penh, one of our tuk tuk drivers had given me his number and I’d promised I’d call him when we returned. I didn’t have to. Lee was standing outside like he’d been waiting there all day for us then proceeded to explain that he had. He even showed us his mobile phone with almost no battery – he was worried we wouldn’t be able to get through.

We told him of our plans for the evening and asked how much it would cost.

“Whatever you want to pay”.

Wat Phnom would probably have been far more exciting to us had we not just come from Siem Reap. We spent 20 minutes walking around the temple, the highlight of which was a gold Buddah in a huge room room with painted murals covering the walls and roof.

With time up our sleeve we were then taken to the Russian Market. Lee told us that the main part would be closed but the shops around it would be open. We took a chance and found a thriving meat and fruit market along with some fake label clothing stalls. Jo found an Angry Birds T-shirt for $5 but there wasn’t much that would fit me that I would actually wear outside of weddings and funerals.

Lee had ducked off for a while to get the gear selector on his bike fixed – we’d been stuck in third gear for the bulk of the trip out there. To call Lee’s motorbike vintage would be being kind to it. The poor little 100cc bike with tuk tuk, Jo and I in tow was near its breaking point.

By the time we’d done a circuit of the market, Lee was back with working gear selector and we asked him to take us to the local mall for some final shopping. We pulled up 20 minutes later and when I went to pay Lee he just said we could fix him up at the airport the following day… unreal.

We’d been to the mall our first time in Phnom Penh so we knew our way around. Jo bought an Angry Birds iPhone cover (US$8) while I picked up some iPod headphones (US$8). We also bought an eCigarette with spare cartridges for US$20 and a carton of real cigarettes for US$10.40 – well less than the price of one packet at home.

With Lee already probably touting for business back at The Landscape, we were spoilt for choice for a tuk tuk driver but the first bloke wanted to charge is US$3 to get no more than a kilometre down the road, I quickly demonstrated the supply and demand theory by going back to the mall exit and getting an alternative driver who did it for US$2.

Our final dinner was an oldie but a goodie – Monterrey Chicken from Nordic House. We saw Rhonda’s husband there again but Rhonda had flown back to Australia soon after we went to Siem Reap.

Our final stop of the whole adventure is the FCC – which is where I sit as I type this. The second level is open and a cool breeze is coming up the river, easing the night heat of Phnom Penh. Below me the tuk tuk drivers that have been the source of so much pain in Vietnam and humour in Cambodia ply their trade. In half an hour, one of them will have a job taking us back a kilometre to The Landscape. Motorbikes, often with three or four passengers zig zag through the traffic and large wooden boats sail against the rivers flow back to the dock.

The FCC is probably best known as being an (almost) safe haven for reporters just prior to the Khmer Rouge takeover. I guess it’s kind of fitting that after 29 days of blogging, I should finish our last full day in South East Asia from the Foreign Correspondents Club, taking in the buzz of a wonderful city that seems to have forgotten the horrors of the last 35 years.

Temples (There are quite a lot around here)

Manil was due to collect us from the hotel at 0700 (we’d run into him at the Night Markets the previous evening) so we had to set the alarm for an 0600 start. Breakfast was bacon omelette and breads, as was now the norm.

Manil was a little late getting to the hotel and begged forgiveness – we were fine – there was no rush to do anything, we had plenty of time. We got on board the tuk tuk and bounced around through the roads of Siem Reap on the way to Ta Phrom, a trip that lasted around 40 minutes.

Ta Phrom is probably best known for it’s role in Lara Croft – Tomb Raider and is most distinguishable from it’s neighbours by the trees that have grown themselves in and around the ruins. As one of the least restored temples on the route, it has been left somewhat in the way in which it was found. The smaller shrubs and grass has been removed but it was a display of the powers of nature to see the roots of trees cutting through the stonework. Manil had suggested we spent 30 or 40 minutes wandering around but we were there for at least an hour with every new area offering a lifetime of Kodak moments. The gathered Chinese tour groups consisting of 30 or so tourists stopped at each one, ensuring everyone had a photo of everyone doing the peace sign at every spot so our progress was somewhat slowed.

Banteay Srei was our next proper stop but on the way we passed by Pre Rup. Manil suggested that it was a pretty good spot to watch the sunset so we only stopped for a few photographs. It was a much smaller temple that lacked the majesty of some of the ones we’d seen previously. In any other country Pre Rup alone would be a national treasure – in this part of Cambodia, it was just another temple.

On the way to the next temple, Banteay Sre, we asked Manil to pull over at the Cambodian Land Mine Museum (admission US$3 each). It is the pet project of Aki Ra, a former Khmer Rouge member turned fighter for the Vietnamese liberators. The accessible area of the museum was only small but it was full of stories from the founder and other Cambodians, telling of the effect of not just the initial fighting in the 1970s but the issues that landmines are still causing in Cambodia today. In the centre of the museum, a collection of hundreds, if not thousands, of land mines of all varieties.

We pulled in amongst the tour busses at Banteay Sre and realised we were, once again, in for something special. The surrounding tourist trinket stalls and the full carpark also suggested we were not the first people to visit for the day. Banteay Sre’s claim to fame is that many of the intricate carvings in the stone have been either well restored or well preserved (I suspect the former). It was not one of the larger temples by any stretch of the imagination but it was well worth the 30 kilometre tuk tuk trip to get there.

Lunch was at a place of Manil’s choosing and although the prices were a little inflated for tourists (Manil got a “free” lunch I think) my meal of rice with eggplant and minced pork was a reasonable size and quite lovely. Jo had spicy chicken that wasn’t too bad either. As the beer was a rather expensive US$3 I decided on just an iced tea – It’s not going to be easy adjusting to NZ$8 pint on our return. The bill came to US$12.

Banteay Samre was our final stop on the temple tour. Jo was suffering from a sore throat and exhaustion similar to my bout a few days before so we’d decided to head back to the hotel. Banteay Samre was almost like a little Angkor Wat. Although less impressive on the outside, the interior had a similar layout that was much easier to negotiate with only a dozen or so tourists in the complex when we were there.

We arrived back at The Moon Boutique Hotel at 1330 and, having made the mistake of not cooling down before sleeping, I suggested Jo have a quick dip in the pool before her sleep. We fired up the aircon in the room and she managed to get an hours kip before Manil showed up at 1530 to take us back to Pre Rup to catch the sunset.

The ride took around around 45 minutes and, with the sun due to set around 1720, we made it there in plenty of time to climb to the top of the tallest tower and wait. There was only one other couple up there when we arrived but slowly people climbed the steep, ladder like steps to the viewing point. Around fifty or so had joined us by 1630. Unfortunately the weather didn’t play ball. As the sun dropped away under what would have been the horizon, a low cloud made its way in from stage left. Aside from a few moments when it found small cracks in the blanket of cloud it became pretty clear we weren’t going to see much. We gave up around 1700 and I asked Manil if we could stop for a very specific type of snack on the way home.

We pulled up at a makeshift roadside food stall around half an hour later and I really had no idea what I was looking at.

Manil pointed to a bowl of black muck.

“Crickets”

He took one of the little critters and scoffed it down. I did likewise. It was a surprisingly nice taste – like a wafer thin nut with legs, very similar to the silkworm we’d tried in Dalat only with more crunch, more legs and a little less substance. A tuk tuk of Japanese travellers pulled up beside us so I posed with cricket on tongue for Jo and the visibly shaken Japanese to take photos.

I’m still not sure exactly what the next dish was but they very closely resembled cockroaches. Manil said they lived in the water but had no English translation for the name. These were a little trickier to eat as the shell like substance on the bugs back needed to be removed before eating. I took to it like a pro and chomped away.

“This one nicer”, Manil said “Much more taste”

It certainly had more taste, the inside was a little gooey and it was also of a nutty flavour, only more pungent. I liked it at first but after a few more bites the strength of taste came through and it was a little too much. The best description that I could come up with is that it tasted like a strong blue vein cheese, wrapped in peanut butter, left in the sun for a week to rot. It didn’t seem to bother Manil who grabbed another one when the stall owner wasn’t looking.

I was already aware of what the third and final taster was. Small snakes, no longer than 25 centimetres rolled up like boerwors. They had been dried and barbequed so the texture was similar to beef jerky and, whilst very different to our lovely snake lunch the previous day, it was pretty damn nice. I bought half a cup of crickets and a snake for US$2.

Back at the hotel we tipped Manil and he suggested I take it easy on the crickets – if you’re not used to them they could do funny things with peoples stomachs. No more than five he suggested – I’d scoffed at lest three times that on the tuk tuk ride home.

Dinner proper was a few burgers from the hotel and we were in bed at the leisurely hour of 1930. We were both suffering from sinus infections but had been on antibiotics for a few days so the worst seemed to have been kept at bay. We both woke a few times during the night and I alternated between the nice humid but hot ambient air and the very dry but cold air conditioning.

In and Around Siem Reap

I managed to sleep right through the night, waking only a few times with no idea what time it was, before finally getting up around 0700. I was still feeling a little jaded but nowhere near as bad as I’d been feeling the day before. Jo had postponed our early morning tuk tuk arrangement with Manil so we had the day at leisure with no rushing about.

Breakfast for both of us was a bacon omelette with breads and pastries again… the standard fare off the hotels free breakfast menu.

The Hotel provided a tuk tuk so we headed into Siem Reap to take a further look around although our first stop was at what already was a favourite – Dr. Fish. The little guys had been doing their job, sucking off dead skin for about 15 minutes where we were approached by what was clearly a tuk tuk driver. He opened with some small talk about the fish and then went with with the standard “Where you from”

We chatted for a few minutes, telling him that everything was already booked when he suggested we spend the morning at Chong Kneas – a floating village about 25 minutes from town. It sounded like a reasonable idea and for $6 we figured we had nothing to lose so we denied the fish their full compliment and headed off with Pheap.

Most of the 25 minutes was spent going at walking pace along badly rutted dirt roads. Pheap explained that recent floods had wrecked the road surface. The tuk tuk felt like it was going to fall apart with the vibrations coming through the leaf suspension – “Free Massage”, he explained.

We arrived at the same time as a tour bus (it seems to be our bad luck in Siem Reap) but were whisked away moments after buying our US$15 boat tickets. Whilst the tour group crammed themselves onto a boat, Jo and I were lead to a smaller 10 seater and we were on the water only seconds after we were seated.

The floating village moves up to four times a year as Tonle Sap Lake floods and dries out again but in the wet season we were able to take a boat down what, for much of the year, is a main road. The only signs that there was any land beneath us were just that – street signs barely poking out from the watery expanse. On the way up the tributary to the main lake we saw floating pig farms, billiard halls, houses and bars. But two places in particular stood out. The floating volleyball and basketball court was a large fenced in area where kids were sweating it out on the volleyball court whilst at the school, class was in session.

We were told that many of the children were orphans and slept in or around the school so we berthed at the local shop and bought 50 packs of two minute noodles (US$25) and headed across the water to the school.

The teacher welcomed us into the class and took the large box of noodles off us. We spent a few minutes taking photos and watching the kids being exactly the same as all schoolchildren are the world over – bored.

The final stop on the boat trip was to a floating crocodile and catfish farm. Much like its mainland competitors, this farm was more depressing than interesting. The amassed Chinese tour group was lapping it up though.

On the way back into the port our “guide” explained that we were not on an official boat – something hadn’t seemed right at the wharf, but we disembarked without incident.

Pheap was waiting for us and before leaving back to Siem Reap I enquired about the possibility of getting lunch on the way back – I wanted to try snake and on the journey to Chong Kneas he mentioned that a lot of people in the area eat it. Pheap stopped a few times to ask the locals where we could get some before stopping at a restaurant that was no more than a pathway on stilts set up from the road to the waterside. The owner put a mat on the wooden floor for us and we waited around ten minutes before a snake was produced for us. It was already very dead but Pheap took one look at it and said it would be good. He spoke to the lady running the restaurant and we were told it would be US$15. We agreed and waited… and waited.

In the hour it took to slow boil our snake, we talked about everything from life in Cambodia to life in New Zealand. Pheap was a top bloke who was very open about the difficulties in his country but very proud of the many good things. At 37 years of age, he was married with three kids and was the sole earner of the family as his wife studied English at university… English was the future he said.

The snake showed up around 1300 and we were all starving. It was served sliced in four or five inch chunks, boiled in a juice with lemon, water and some sort of light herb. It was worth every second of the wait. Pheap served us first but had to show us how to eat it. He deftly peeled the skin and meat from the bones but when he realised Jo and I were having trouble he suggested we eat it more like corn on the cob. Both of us agreed that it was one of the best meals we’d had whilst away. The meat was tender and the juice not too overpowering as to ruin the subtle taste of the snake. Pheap was immensely grateful for the offer to eat with us and said he wouldn’t be able to afford snake that good himself. He dropped us back to the hotel feeling rather good about life. We tipped him handsomely and asked if he could book us in to take us to the airport on the Friday.

After a quick swim in the hotel pool we took their tuk tuk into the night markets that were supposed to open at 1600. When we pulled up at 1530 there was absolutely no sign of life so we took a walk around the tourist part of Siem Reap around Pub Street (No thanks – we didn’t want massages).

We grabbed a small wood fired pizza (US$5) each and found X-Bar, a cool rooftop spot where live bands play – although not at 1600 in the afternoon. Their main feature was a 6ft skateboard half pipe on the rooftop looking over Siem Reap. Back in the day I’d have been all over that but now I was just a tired traveller looking for a cold, cheap beer.

We finally made it to the half opened markets around 1645 where we booked in to see a 40 minute documentary on Pol Pot on a projector screen. Jo didn’t think much of it but I found it quite informative.

In the middle of the Night Markets is a flash looking open air bar who made the best iced mango juice I’ve ever had (US$2) so we sat back listening to Nirvana’s “Bleach” while I downed a few of the divine glasses.

For the next hour or so we (well, mainly me) went crazy at the markets, buying t-shirts, hammocks and Angkor Wat souvenirs amongst all sorts of other bits and pieces. We even needed to buy a 55 litre bag (fake The North Face no less) for US$13 to hold it all in. The trip was winding to an end and we had a maximum weight limit on the flight home to reach. A kilo under is a kilo wasted.

We called the hotel on the complimentary mobile they had provided us with and booked a tuk tuk.

We collapsed into bed, quite contented around 2200.

Temple. Fatigue.

Apparently there really is such a thing as temple fatigue. The average length of stay in Siem Reap is only two and a half days – not really long enough to see everything properly. Temple Fatigue occurs when you become literally templed out – you’ve just seen too many temples.

I had both on this day – but they were independent events.

Manil was collecting us at 0430 so the alarm went off at 0400… and 0410… and 0420. I threw some clothes on and we headed straight out to Angkor Wat to see the sunrise. We were amongst the first 100 or so people there but by sunrise there must have been a few thousand. We had our pick of the spots and managed to take some quite incredible photos of the sun coming up behind Angkor Wat, the clouds reflecting red in the background.

We walked into the temple to take a look around and spent at least a few hours taking it all in. Many of the carvings in the walls were still in excellent condition and although we had so much time there, I suspect that we probably missed about a quarter of the temple itself. There were several areas to it – the centre high towers and surrounding courtyard along with two or three outer walled areas, each with large rooms and open areas off them. Unfortunately there were so many tourists it was impossible to get many good photos so it soon became obvious why kids were selling postcards at the entrance.

At 0830 we met Manil and he took us to a local restaurant for breakfast – at US$4 for an egg and bacon roll, it was rather expensive and rather average but it filled the gap. The temperature was already over 30 degrees and I’d spent a fair bit of time at Angkor Wat sitting down and sipping water. I was not feeling very well at all. It wasn’t food poisoning but I just felt like all the energy in me had taken leave for the day.

The much larger complex of Angkor Thom was next on the list, not just for us apparently, but for every tour group in Siem Reap. We made our way through the masses to look through Bayon.

Bayon is a labyrinth of rooms, stairs and towers where it is impossible to escape the giant heads on each side of the towers that look down on the hoards with a knowing smile – yeah – we know what all the fuss is about. Whilst Angkor Wat was sensational in the morning and there is no escaping its allure, Bayon was my favourite temple of the day. We spent nearly an hour finding all the hidden spots, climbing up and down the stairs trying to get lost. The noise of the tour groups ensured we were never too far from finding our way out but each angle offered another photo opportunity so I took advantage. So too did one Chinese bloke who will return home with hundreds of photos of his wife giving the peace sign from every possible angle in at Bayon.

I had to stop for another rest and wasn’t feeling well at all. To make matters worse, we still had at least two temples to walk around before we got to the place where Manil had said he would meet us with the tuk tuk.

Baphuon has a long pathway leading up to it that is rather an impressive sight – rather an oppressive sight if it’s over 30 degrees and you realise there is no shade for the 200 metres to the entrance. It has three levels to it and each is accessed by steep staircases that actually resemble ladders more than stairs. We climbed and descended, took a few photos and moved on.

Phimenakis was the final temple for this part of the route and was in a more ruined state than the previous temples. We walked around it and headed straight for the gathered tuk tuks a few hundred metres away.

I was out on my feet when we saw a smiling Manil wave at us from the myriad of tuk tuks in the park. I accepted gratefully his offer of a cold water and he suggested a route for the remainder of the day. I had alternative plans.

We put off any more temples for the day and headed back to The Moon Hotel, arriving about 1130 – six hours after we headed off. Jo reckons I was snoring within seconds of lying down.

I woke about 1530 alternating between shivers and heat but I figured I’d better eat something. The most neutral item on the hotel menu was a chicken burger and I got through it in between 10 minute naps. Rithy came in and checked on me a few times when he heard I was crook and even offered to take me to the hospital but I knew what was wrong with me.

I was stuffed. There’s probably a more technical medical term for it but I was rooted. It had been one of the hottest days of the holiday and the early morning start followed by the climbing of temples and tourist dodging had exhausted me. I slept and woke up several more times throughout the afternoon and got as far as the hotel restaurant for a Khmer chicken curry for dinner but that was it.

Jo was looking after me throughout everything. She was arranging flights back to Phnom Penh for us with the hotel staff and arranging cold drinks for me. As per her usual strict holiday packing schedule we had more drugs on us than a South Central street corner dealer so I was constantly being given rehydration fluid, panadol and antibiotics.

I couldn’t ask for a better travel partner and it’s always the lousy times when this is the most important. Legend.

Almost visiting Angkor Wat

We finally arrived at Siem Reap at 0100. The five to six hour bus trip that we’d paid for lasted 7 1/2 hours… that’s good buying I guess.

A tuk tuk driver picked us up as we were told but he wasn’t 100% sure where our hotel – The Moon Boutique Hotel was located. We looped around the streets for almost half an hour before he called the front desk to get instructions. We were in the vicinity so it only took a further five minutes. The bloke on the reception desk was fantastic and checked us in with minimum fuss, providing a facecloth and a lemongrass, lime and honey drink – both of which were much needed.

I didn’t get to sleep until around 0200 but when I did I was completely unstirred until Jo woke me up at 0830.

Breakfast at the hotel was an omelette with bread, croissants, jams etc. In the light of day the quality of the place showed through. A nice pool with ten loungers around it, a restaurant/bar area that had opened sides and huge rooms made The Moon Boutique Hotel by far the nicest we had stayed in on the trip.

We walked into Siem Reap town to get the lay of the land. The hotel is just out of town on a rutted dirt, single lane road and seems to be the only hotel on the street. It is mainly residential land and the walk took us past tiny wooden houses and the equivalent of the local grocery store, an open front shed with cigarettes and other essentials.

We were approached by several tuk tuk drivers on the streets but these ones (unlike in Vietnam) took “no” as our answer and didn’t hassle us too much.

At the Central Market we went a little bit crazy and bought some presents along with a few things for ourselves. As I’m not yet home I won’t divulge all of them but I picked up a very nice and very fake watch for US$20 and Jo bought a pair of jandals for US$5. They had super thick soles so if you see her in the near future and she looks taller than usual, she’s probably wearing them. The markets were had all the usual fare on one side – scarves, t-shirts and trinkets with the other dedicated to the locals a bit more – cooking utensils, hardware and the like. Down the middle, a thin strip of food stalls selling mainly meat and fish separated the two sides.

It was only about 1030 but the heat and humidity was getting to us a bit. We stopped at a restaurant for a Lao Beer and a coke (US$3.00) just to cool down by their fan.

Just behind the markets was Doctor Fish – an aquarium about two metres by a metre with a bench around it. Doctor Fish was a massage of sorts. For US$2.00 each you get a can of Angkor Beer, sit with your feet in the water while hundreds of little fish eat away at the dead skin on your feet. It tickles a lot for the first minute or so (I took about five attempts to keep my feet in the water for more than ten seconds) but eventually it is a rather pleasurable experience. We left with soft feet, feeling rather good indeed.

We briefly dropped into a helicopter booking office to see if we could book a flight over Angkor Wat. It is US$150 each for 15 minutes but I guess it’s a must do while we’re in Cambodia. As the minimum number of passengers is three, we left out names in the hope that a third person would want to book also. We decided to go back to the hotel for a swim, arriving there about 1330.

The pool was perfectly tepid on a day that had little wind but plenty of heat and humidity. We booked a tuk tuk at reception for a half day tour of Angkor Wat and by the time we got out of the pool and dried off Manil, our driver, was waiting for us.

Angkor Wat is only about a 10 minute tuk tuk ride from Siem Reap and we we purchased a three day pass for US$40 each. Our photos were taken for our passes and we headed for a balloon that goes 150 metres or so straight up on a guide rope allowing fantastic views of Angkor Wat.

On the way, we stopped to see the rather amusing site of a local youngster trying to resteal his motorbike from a monkey that had decided it was the most comfortable place to sit. After a tense standoff the local boy won and the monkey ran up a tree.

The balloon (US$15 each – 10 minutes) was the best possible way to see Angkor Wat and get an idea of its size and surroundings. We asked our driver if he’d ever been up there and he said it was too expensive for most Cambodians. I made some enquiries and managed to get a half priced ticket for him. I’m not sure if he had been up there or not but the look on his face when I showed him the ticket suggested he hadn’t. He posed for a photo and spent most of the ten minutes taking photos on his phone… I did similarly on my camera.

We decided to skip going into Angkor Wat itself as Phnom Bakheng, the most popular spot to see the sunset, had a 300 person maximum limit. It was around 1600 and the sun was due to set at 1720.

Manil dropped us off and told us he’d wait at the bottom. The walk to the top was light and about 15 minutes long but in the heat of the late afternoon it took a bit out of the two of us. At least 100 people had their spots already but we climbed the incredibly steep steps to the temple and found a place where we could see Angkor Wat in front of us and the setting sun to our right. Unfortunately it was a cloudy night but even the clouds themselves made for spectacular viewing. At one point the sun peaked out through a narrow gap in the clouds and 300 people oohed and aahed in unison – raising cameras one and all.

Manil was at the bottom waiting for us as promised and he took us to a local tourist restaurant. We hadn’t booked anything with him but the US$12 buffet and show sounded alright. We even had a table ready for us with Manil’s name on it. The dinner was pretty good – a selection of local dishes including spring rolls, veges, fish and pork mince. Unfortunately as soon as the show started all the tourists in front stood and started taking photos. As soon as they were told to sit down and the waiters had resumed their non-security duties, they all stood up again. I complained and told the waiter we’d leave without paying if something wasn’t done. They tried unsuccessfully to get people to sit down so Jo and I walked out. The manager chased us and I had a few choice words for him before calming down and saying it wasn’t his fault – it was the bloody tourists. He got us a spot closer to the stage but it was no better. I resorted to biting off chunks of mango and throwing them at people who stood up (I was 2 from 3 on the night) – one French bloke complained to the manager but got nowhere. Eventually we gave up and I paid only for the dinner – not the show. The manager apologised again.

We have met so many great Cambodians during our short stay here – I sincerely hope they continue pursuing tourism as an income source and don’t just give up because of bad mannered tour groups. Our hosts have been sensational and it’s embarrassing to fall under the same banner as these idiots.

Manil took us back to The Moon Boutique Hotel where we had a swim before I spent an hour typing my blog. The two bar staff Rithy and Thoeung saw my iPhone keyboard and were intrigued by what I was doing. Another two fine examples of Cambodian hospitality.

We went to bed at 2230.

Village Kids

Rhonda and Kathy, the Australians that bailed us out on the Vietnam/Cambodia border had recommended a pretty special trip that departed from town each Sunday and we’d decided to stay on in Phnom Penh for most of the day to make sure we could get a spot on the minibus. A local expat group called CHOICE took tourists put to one of three poor villages to do activities with the local kids in return for a donation. We were looking forward to this day from the first time we heard about it.

I scoffed my breakfast down, the bacon sandwich and omelette were no match for me after a dinnerless evening. We then packed our gear, separating our souvenirs from our clothes, so that we could leave one bag at reception for collection the night before we fly back to New Zealand.

Our laundry wasn’t ready to collect because of the previous nights rain so we decided to head to the Royal Palace and Silver Pagoda a few blocks from our hotel in Central Phnom Penh. The complex would have had at least ten functioning buildings scattered around the manicured gardens. There were several no-go areas (the king was in residence) that doubtless had many more. Most were done in the eastern style of heavily sloped roofs that flare back up in the corners but some of the solid terracotta and rock sculptures were in the Khmer style – similar to some of the temples at Ankor Wat. It was only just after 0800 but the temperature must have been in the 30s and the rain from the previous night made it muggy. We walked between the buildings seeking shade wherever it was available.

Around 0930 we met Rhonda and Kathy at Nordic House where we replenished some fluids before getting on the minibus that would take us out of town with Ross, the organiser, and about a dozen other tourists

It took an hour or so to get to Angela Village*, forty or so wooden shacks lining a one lane dirt road with no power or running water. As our van pulled in we drove past smiling and waving parents and kids. We were mobbed by around thirty kids aged from around 2 to 11 when we stopped. Jo, Kathy, myself and another bloke – a New Zealander based in Cambodia got out while the rest of the van went on to another village. Kathy had bought some nylon and small coloured beads with her and we set up mats right there on the road to show the kids how to make bracelets.

They all loved them, the smiling faces were fantastic and each of us was surrounded by at least five children, all grabbing onto us like we were Santa.

The fun hadn’t run out even half an hour later when the beads did. Paper and colour pencils were produced and while most of the kids drew, a boy of around 8 or 9 grabbed my arm and pulled me over to the river beside the road. He had seen my camera and wanted me to take photos of the rest of the kids jumping into the stream. All the youngsters waited for a nod from me then jumped in to the water. They didn’t hang around there for long as they ran up to me to see their photos on the camera screen. The process was repeated… and repeated…. and repeated.

Another young boy who was obviously the village clown took some time out of jumping onto Jo’s back every time she stood up to make me swing him around by his arms until he (and me) were dizzy. Plenty of the other kids saw this and decided they’d like a go too. I did as many as I could before my brain turned to a dizzy mush.

After a few hours the van returned to collect us and we packed up. As I got into the van, the kid that had taken me to the river side knocked on the window. I opened it and we shook hands. Before I knew it I had half a dozen kids wanting to shake hands also and as the van pulled away they all chased us – waving and yelling. We’d picked up another couple of passengers also, one of the women from a nearby village had given birth the previous week and was having complications. She and her baby got a lift back to Phnom Penh to go to the hospital.

It was an incredible experience. Ross gave me his card and I will post it here when we get back. If anyone wants a real village trip without the touristy rubbish – this is the place to go. Hopefully our US$50 donation will help keep the kids smiling a little bit longer.

We had lunch at Nordic House (same, same – Monterrey Chicken) with Kathy, Rhonda and Sara, the Australian we’d had dinner with in Chau Doc before starting a slow walk back to Landscape Hotel.

On the way we stopped at the Foreign Correspondents Club for a beer and spent a while looking out over the waterfront. Phnom Penh was far from the smoggy, big city I had been expecting. In fact it was a friendly city with plenty of vibe. We were going to miss it.

We collected our laundry and waited at Landscape Hotel for the tuk tuk driver who the agency had booked to take us to the bus station. We arrived a few minutes before the 1730 bus to Siem Reap.

Which is where you find me now, 6 and a half hours into a supposedly 6 hour bus ride with no city in sight and the prospect of who knows how much more time on a cramped but air conditioned bus. The rutted roads are making sleep almost impossible and any real chance to doze off was ruined by the B-grade Kung Fu Movie that was blasting through the speakers. Curiously only three quarters of it was shown before Cambodian Karaoke hits came on to offer a new type of audio hell.

But don’t worry folks – I can still type (sort of) so you’ll be kept informed of progress from what has just ticked over to the new day on the next post.

* Ross explained that he never gives out the actual name of the villages as if tour groups or unscrupulous individuals find them, they could easily destroy CHOICES years of hard work within the community.

A Tragic Recent History

Breakfast at the Landscape Hotel was a huge buffet of mixed Khmer and Western foods. Needless to say we both went with the bacon toasted sandwiches.

The plan for the day was to rent a motorbike and take it to see Tuol Sleng and The Killing Fields… two memorials to the victims of the Khmer Rouge from 1975 to 1979. It was doubtless going to be a moving day. I’d done plenty of study prior to the trip to try and get an idea of what happened to Cambodia when the Khmer Rouge took power and I was looking forward to trying to fill in the gaps that remained.

Our first stop was a mundane visit to the laundry around the corner to drop in two weeks worth of smelly backpackers clothes… 3.5 kgs to be exact. The US$3.50 we paid for the service was much less than you’d have had to pay me just to take a smell of the bags.

The travel agency where we’d booked our bus tickets to Siem Reap had recommended a motorbike hire place across the road from the National Museum of Cambodia, a stunning terracotta building a few blocks back from the river. At 0800 the bike shop was not open so we crossed the road and payed the US$3.00 each admission to the museum. Almost all the exhibits were statues (or part statues) dating back to the 4th Century AD. We spent about half an hour looking around but with Angkor Wat still to visit, I felt that we’d be seeing plenty of similar work in the not-too-distant future. Works in a museum lack context and would, I think, often be admired more if they were left in the places they had been found. Photographs were not allowed inside so you’ll just have to use your imagination.

The bike shop was still not open when we got out of the museum so we headed to Nordic House to ask Pauly, one of the waiters, if he knew of anywhere we could rent a motorbike. We almost got there without spending any money but I managed to spend US$1.00 on a much needed cut throat shave from a barber. He had no shop – just a chair, a mirror, a blade and the sidewalk. Pauly pointed us in the right direction and we hired a 110cc bike at US$7.00 for the day.

Getting to Tuol Sleng was a bit of a mission – we got lost a few times but we knew we must have been within a block or so. A lady sitting on the footpath saw us looking in the Lonely Planet and pointed us in the right direction.

I don’t normally go into too much historical detail in this blog (that’s what Wiki is for) but in this instance it’s probably important to give a very brief background. Leading into 1975 a variety of factors such as the existing governments treatment of left wingers as well as bombardment during the Vietnamese war had increased the popularity of the Khmer Rouge – a political movement intent on overthrowing the government. Phnom Penh, the capital city of Cambodia fell to the Khmer Rouge on April 17 1975, to the rejoicing of most of the nation. All except the top brass of the movement had no idea that the worst was yet to come.

Major cities were evacuated, with all Cambodians expected to move to rural areas to work the land… land that has been ordered out of private ownership and into the hands of the government. Dissent was not tolerated – anyone not able to work was either killed or died of exhaustion, food was scarce and many died of starvation. It took very little time for the Khmer Rouge to become paranoid and anyone accused of being against the national cause (as dictated by their leader Pol Pot) was killed. Khmer Rouge leaders who refused to kill innocents were also seen as being traitors. Confessions were forced through torture and often people had to make up stories about others just to save themselves.

So… back to Tuol Sleng (S21) – now a museum and memorial site. This was the place where people were who were suspected of being traitors were brought to be tortured and often killed. Most of the 17,000 people that passed through S21 were Khmer Rouge themselves but were accused of various crimes against their party – some for not obeying orders to slaughter their own villagers.

We parked the motorbike out the front and joined forces with an Australian journalist in getting a guide for US$6.00 on top of the US$3.00 entry fee.

S21 used to be a school, there are several blocks of three storey high buildings surrounding three sides of a courtyard. Building A was, appropriately, our first stop. Each of the old classrooms contained the metal bones of a bed and a photo on the wall of how the room looked when the Khmer Rouge fell in 1979. There were bodies on all the beds – chained and beaten with spades, throats cut with knives or having suffered some other equally grotesque demise. These were the torture chambers, where those that didn’t immediately confess were beaten to confession or death.

On the way to building B we passed what used to be the high school’s gym bars. These were easily converted into gallows where prisoners were hung by their feet and dunked into large pots of water.

Building B also contained one of the most moving parts of Tuol Sleng. The Khmer Rouge were strict with their paperwork – every prisoner was photographed and had a file. The bottom floor of Building B contained huge boards with the photos of all the victims. From the looks in their eyes they were aware of their fate as soon as they entered the facility and had their photo taken. Upstairs, the cells remained; no more than two metres long and less than a metre wide. Shackles were on some of the floors. It was horrible just to stand in the cramped, dark rooms as a tourist, let alone thinking of what the victims went through – hearing the screams from Building A.

As we continued through S21 our guide opened up and told us her story. She was lucky, she said, she only lost her husband and two brothers to the Khmer Rouge (her husband was killed by a strike to the head using bamboo). Her daughter and son died of starvation as they walked from village to village trying to stay alive. Lucky means something quite different in Cambodia than what it does in New Zealand.

We also had the opportunity to meet one of the seven survivors from Tuol Sleng. We bought a magazine from him with his photo on the cover. We paid our guide, tipping well and stopped for a drink in the courtyard before buying a DVD and a few items of clothing from the gift shop.

We got back on our motorbike and headed out of Phnom Penh – there was 15 kilometres of dusty, rutted tarmac roads between us and our next stop – The Killing Fields of Choeung Ek. Those that did not die via torture or suicide at S21 were trucked in to here to be killed and disposed of in a more effective manner.

Entry was US$5 and it included an audio tour that was very informative and very well produced. It included interviews with Khmer Rouge guards and many people who were against the regime. One of the most traumatic sights was a tree. Babies were swung by the legs so their heads smashed against the stump. There were almost 100 mass graves excavated but many more have been left untouched. The ground level was craterous due to the decomposition of the bodies in them…. some contained more than 300. The non excavated graves were slowly making their way to the surface with each rainstorm and flood. In some places items of clothing and bones were literally half way out of the ground just under our feet. The staff regularly collect the items for safe keeping. A memorial tower had been built to house the bones and it contained over 8000 skulls. All these awful events occurred within my lifetime – it could take another 30 years to realise the true body count.

What really struck me about both Tuol Sleng and The Killing Fields is that the Cambodians we have met so far seem to be friendly, smiling people. New Zealand could learn a lot – particularly in race relations terms – from the way the Cambodians have reconciled with their past. Up to 3,500,000 people, half the population, died under the Khmer Rouge and most of the perpetrators will never be brought to justice. After 1979, most just mingled in to the new society.

We hit a small patch of rain on the way back in to Phnom Penh but made it back to a very late lunch at Nordic House around 1500. The Monterey chicken I’d had for lunch the previous day was well worth a repeat.

The Central Markets were just a few blocks away so we headed away from the river to check out the huge domed building. We bought 6 soccer balls for a trip we had planned the next day but, whilst there were a few bits and pieces that appealed, we resisted the urge to spend more money and add weight to our regularly expanding backpacks.

The Landscape Hotel was only two kilometres away but on the way back we experienced an incredible change of weather. We hit the river front in sunshine and in a 30 second period the thick, black storm clouds rolled in. The temperature dropped at least five degrees and a wind picked up that was making it difficult to keep the bike upright. I zip zapped through the traffic to get back as fast as we could and made it back just before the skies opened.

We weren’t keen to head out from the hotel again but as I had to have the bike returned by 1900 we had little choice. Jo rode on a tuk tuk while I donned the wet weather gear that I’d bought in Vietnam (complete with clear patch at the front for headlights) and rode back to 130th Street. The rain had almost cleared but after a late lunch we weren’t too hungry and had no real reason to hang around outside so we headed back to the hotel.

Jo went to sleep quickly after an emotionally draining day and I dozed off with ten minutes to go in the Arsenal v Norwich match.

Holidays in Cambodia

Breakfast at the hotel was awful and Jo had to go to the counter to ask for our change that seemed to have been forgotten about.

We were loaded onto another wooden tourist boat and went less than a kilometre before we stopped at a tin house, one of the hundreds that was floating alongside the banks of the Mekong. Most of the houses were fish farms and our guide lifted a chunk out of what was the owners front porch to reveal the sea bass living underneath.

The next stop was Cham Village, an interesting area that is inhabited by a majority muslim population. We walked for a kilometre or so around a block where kids waved from their front porches and the adults went about whatever it was that the adults in Cham Village did. We stopped at a Madrasah, one of the last things I was expecting to be seeing in Vietnam before we headed to the dock to get on a new boat that would take us across the border to Phnom Penh.

The boat was fibreglass but was little more than two metres across and ten metres long. It sat low in the water, even under throttle, and the noise was deafening. To make matters worse we had to backtrack as the preferred route was closed due to some sort of electrical problem further up the river that wouldn’t allow us thorough. We took a speed restricted alternate route and soon ended up stuck behind another similar boat. Instead of backing off, our driver kept right on the other boats diesel exhaust pipe, the fumes literally spewing into our cabin with it’s tiny windows. I was already uncomfortable but the fumes made me quite ill. The crew wouldn’t let me out the back even for a moment. The trip to the Vietnamese exit point took somewhere in the vicinity of an hour and a half but it felt like days. I was more than relieved to get off the boat for a while while we had our passports stamped to exit Vietnam.

Our new Cambodian guide told us we could change to another boat for US$25 each. It was similar but had an open area at the back of it. I would have paid three times that but I’m sure we got ripped. In any case we took it but had another problem – we were out of cash. We’d worked our Vietnamese Dong stash out near perfectly and only had D50,000 (NZ$3.50) left. We’d changed the US$50 we needed for the Cambodian entry visa in Chau Doc and therefore had no way to pay for both the boat upgrade and our entry visa. We were on a floating customs area with no ATM and in no position to gat any money.

Our Australian mates Rhonda and Kathy had seen the state I was in and Rhonda became a lifesaver, offering us US$80 to get the upgrade… we accepted greatfully and made arrangements to sort them out when we got to Phnom Penh.

There was very little space in the open area of the new boat and the space that was available was on top of the diesel engine. It was pretty hot but there was almost enough room for me to have a lie down and the air was much fresher.

It only took about 15 minutes to get to the Cambodia entry point of Khaorm Samnor. I took a seat on a bench and Jo took over… arranging the return of our passports from our guide and the visa paperwork. We were meant to provide photos but in the absence of any we were charged US$24 for the visas rather than US$23. The stamp itself states US$20 so the blokes doing the stamping would be doing a roaring trade at $3 or $4 a head.

We spent about half an hour at the border post and as soon as we got back on the boat I managed to get 50 minutes sleep. I woke up still a little crook but far better than I had been a few hours before. The boat was meant to take three hours to get from Khaorm Samnor to Phnom Penh but at 1400 we still hadn’t arrived and there were no signs of a city on the horizon.

We finally pulled alongside the dock at 1500 and we were surrounded by taxi and tuk tuk drivers immediately… all of which we ignored. The tuk tuks were all motorbike led with four seater carriages behind them We got our backpacks sorted and walked 10 minutes to Nordic House, the bar where we’d arranged to pay our debt back. We ordered some much needed beers and a late lunch. I needed something more solid than the usual South East Asian fare so I had chips, veges and chicken with cheese and bacon. At US$6.50 for the largest serving we’d had to date it was great value and it went down a treat. Jo had a huge plate of nachos for US$5.00 and polished it off with ease. We sat on a few more beers until Rhonda showed up. We paid her back and bought Kathy and her a few rounds of drinks.

Rhonda is an experienced traveller in Cambodia and she arranged us a tuk tuk to our hotel for US$2. We thanked her for the umpteenth time and headed off.

The Landscape Hotel is about a kilometre away from the touristy area of Phnom Penh and deserves better than it’s four star rating if our previous experiences in Vietnam were anything to go by. Our room was on par with the Novotel in Nha Trang – a five star hotel. We collapsed exhausted for quarter of an hour but built up the steam to go exploring.

We hired a tuk tuk (not difficult at all in Phnom Penh) and the driver told us that the Central Market was already closed. He offered to take us to another market and we were a bit surprised to be dropped off at a four storey shopping mall. We made the most of it and found a Swensons Ice Cream parlour where we got two icecream sundaes and a coffee for US$6.80. We wandered around to get an idea of prices in shops and found the local supermarket to be the best bar to set. We bought a carton of cigarettes for US$10.50 and an energy drink for US$0.35… not too bad at all.

Jo looked around for shoes but couldn’t find the perfect pair. I joined her but all the shops seemed to stop their sizes at size 11. I’d have bought a few pairs of Vans shoes at US$18 if they were just one size bigger.

One of the weird things we noticed was the amount of Angry Birds merchandise that was available; bags, clothing, iPhone covers, toys and even slippers. There were plenty of Friday night shoppers that were wearing the clothing too.

We walked back to Nordic House and saw the girls briefly before heading back towards the dock to see the night markets. On the way, we booked a bus to Siem Reap for Sunday afternoon at US$7.00 each for the six hour journey, including hotel pickup and dropoff at each end.

It was an absolute pleasure to not be hassled by any of the stall owners at the night market and we wandered through getting an idea of what was for sale and what we should be paying. Most of the stalls were selling footwear and clothing, with the odd one offering souvenirs such as Buddah statues, chopsticks and the like. Jo picked up an “Angry Birds Addict” t-shirt for US$4.

We stopped at a riverside bar on the way back to the hotel where the US$3.00 jug of Ankor Beer went down without even touching the sides then caught a tuk tuk back to Landscape Hotel (US$2). Jo was in bed by 8pm but I stayed up for a few hours updating the blog.

A few early thoughts on Phnom Penh…
Whilst traffic is still mad by New Zealand standards, it is significantly quieter in both volume (mass) and volume (sound) than even the smaller cities in Vietnam.
The roads and shops are significantly cleaner than anywhere in Vietnam.
The US dollar is used alongside the local currency the Riel. It seems to be common to get the bulk of your change in US dollars with the last few dollars and cents getting paid back in riels. My two tiered Arsenal wallet that I bought in HCMC was a great investment for this reason.
Whilst still hot, the temperature in the evenings is not only tolerable but quite pleasant. T-shirt and shorts are the go.
The touts are everywhere (especially tuk tuk drivers) but, for the most part, they seem to understand the word “no”.

I think we’re going to like this place… It would make a nice home away from home I reckon.

Mekong Delta

This was to be our last full day in Vietnam and whilst we had enjoyed most of the three weeks or so, we were ready to move on. The return to the traffic, smog and noise of Ho Chi Minh City convinced me it was time to go.

Breakfast at the hotel was a basic buffet although the beef pho was pretty good. Jo and I had woken up early so I used the time to get our photos backed up off the camera and on to a couple of usb sticks that we keep seperate in case we lose any of our bags.

Our bus arrived a bit late – around 0745 and we were hustled onto it, our bags were loaded in the main part of the bus with us although everyone elses was evidently in the underside luggage compartment.

Around twenty minutes later we arrived outside a tourist agency where we were hustled off the bus and put on to another one. We barely spent any time waiting and headed through Ho Chi Minh City once again- straight back to our hotel 45 minutes after we had left it. Someone on the bus should not have been with us and a petrol station next to where we’d stayed was the meeting point to sort the lady out and meet her correct bus.

It took around 2 1/2 hours to get to Cai Be where we boarded a wooden deisel powered boat to have a look at the local floating markets. It was explained to us that this was the centre of trade for the Mekong region and the gathered boats were all wholesaling their stock – they weren’t interested in tourist boats buying a few pieces of fruit. The product for sale was indicated by a bamboo pole hoisted from the bow of the boats with the item hanging off it.

We puled up a kilometre further up the river and were shown through the process to make coconut lollies… coconut being one of the products this part of the Mekong was known for. A variety of coconut products were also available for sale and by the looks of most of the people on the tour, they were in hot demand. Also in the same area was a lady making coconut rice paper and a few workers making popped rice biscuits. All set up for the tour groups but still being made the traditional way. We managed to get out without lightening our wallets.

Just around the corner was a honey farm. A cynical person may sugget that one hive does not a farm make, however the shop was open for business and they were pushing honey products ranging from teas, beauty products to miracle cures. We returned to the boat and spent a while snaking through part of the Mekong on the way to lunch. The trip was a real highlight as we were able to get the odd sneak peak at life on the Mekong Delta that was not put on for tourists. Kids smiled and waved as we went by and before I knew it I’d snapped a few hundred photos.

Lunch was at a touristy cafe somewhere in the middle of nowhere and we were greeted at the door by the owners pet snake that was a good couple of metres long and weighed 40 kilograms. Jo and I shared an Elephant Fish that was deep fried and quite crispy. It was nice and fresh and tasted pretty good although it was not the culinary delight that our guide had led us to believe it would be. While at lunch we sat with a couple of Australians – Rhonda and Kathy who had both spent time in Cambodia so we milked them for as many travel tips as we could.

We took the boat around parts of the Delta for another hour before getting on our bus and heading on the long and noisy drive to Chau Doc – near the Cambodian border. The only stop was to a pathetic excuse for a crocodie farm where the poor buggers were kept in wildly overpopulated pits before being turned into handbags – available at the gift shop on the way out.

The trip to Chau Doc was tiresome and accentuated by rough bridges, overcrowded streets and a bus driver that couldn’t stay off the horn. It was such a relief to pull up at our Floating Hotel that we barely noticed what a horrible place it was.

Jo and I went exploring a few hundred metres down the street, in which time I bought a scooter helmet for D100,000 (NZ$7) and a cup of fresh squeezed sugar cane that I put some of our rice wine into.

We caught up with Rhonda & Kathy back at the hotel where they were chatting with a young Australian girl, Sara and we were later joined by an American bloke called Adam. Rhonda and Kathy stayed at the hotel once we were done but Adam, Sara and us headed out to try and find the markets and a feed.

It was only 2030 but the markets had shut up shop for the night so we ended up at a floating restaurant where the food was moderately priced but a bit average. Sara ordered chips and got pineapple fritters – Adam and I ended up eating them anyway as Sara reordered. My fish soup was the highlight of an otherwise dismal evening.

We went back to the hotel and got to sleep around 2200. It wasn’t the ideal way to end our Vietnam adventure but the hour or so cruising the Mekong Delta had justified the rest of the days travel.

Tomorrow… Cambodia.

Easy Ridin’ Dalat Style

Son, our potential Easy Rider tour guide was due to collect us at 0730 so we were up early on the off chance he showed up. We packed, checked out and I went out to make sure our motorbike hadn’t disappeared overnight. It was still sitting where we left it and furthermore still had the 3/4 of a tank of gas that we’d left the night before. The deal with motorbike rentals in Vietnam seems to be that your bike is collected and drained of petrol overnight necessitating a refill each morning.

At 0730 on the dot Son showed up with a good helmet for me. It came complete with a clear, full face visor… something of a luxury. Jo jumped on board Son’s bike and I followed behind.

Around 5kms out of Dalat City we stopped on a small mountain pass to take some photos of the farms below. Some poor joker was trying to load three 30 kilo sacks of straw onto his bike so we lent a hand. He loaded two across the back of the seat and one behind the handlebars. He deftly slotted himself in between and took off with a push start from Son and waved to thank us.

The first small village we encountered had mesh greenhouses lining the single lane street. Inside were all varieties and colours of flowers being grown for the markets in Saigon, some 300 kilometres away. We were taken into the front courtyard of one of the houses where two young girls and some women were hand wrapping each gerbera flower in plastic. I snapped a few photos while Jo got some money out of our day bag to pay. Son assured us it wasn’t necessary – in fact, they’d be offended. It seemed country life in Dalat was somewhat different to most places we’d been on the trip. Next door we dropped in on a lady arranging roses into boxes to be sent to wedding ceremonies.

We rode on for another five kilometres before pulling over in a nondescript part of the countryside. Son led us to a tiny shack of a house where a young boy watched his father do the daily chores. We were on a coffee plantation. Son explained how to pick the good beans from the bad and the process of harvesting and drying. I was curious about how the beans got to market and we were told that often the farmers are uneducated and don’t have transport to the buyers, sometimes over 100 kilometres away. Most of the small plantations, like the one we were on, sell their beans to traders for far less than they would be sold to the roasters so the traders make most of the profits.

On the way through the neighbouring villages we saw that most of the houses and shacks had no front lawn – they were completely overtaken with coffee beans left out in the sun to dry.

Our next stop was a run down coffee shop that also had beans out in the bike park, drying in the already hot sun. We ordered a coffee and coke but I notices a couple of jars of maybe 5 litres or so in which rice wine was stored, along with some interesting flavourings. The first had two large lizards – geckos they called them, but they were certainly not the tiny things we call geckos in New Zealand. The second had two or three snakes and what looked to be a few blackbirds pickled in the jar. The third one was by far the most interesting as it contained nine snakes, a bird and two geckos.

The coffee we were served was excellent so we started discussing bean types with the owner – translations provided by Son. Apparently the beans they use are roasted in a mix of butter, rice wine and fish sauce. We bought 800 grams of beans for D150,000 (NZ$10) and Son wrote us a receipt of sorts that I hoped NZ Customs would accept as proof that they had been properly treated and roasted. I usually wouldn’t have worried except that through the clear plastic packaging, the beans looked like they were still slightly moist. We also picked up three metal individual cup coffee filters that are used in the cafes. At D10,000 (NS$0.67) they seemed to be a good buy.

The real secret of the coffee shop was hidden around the back… a rice wine distillery.

We knew from Son’s list of tour highlights that we’d be visiting a rice wine making facility and I initially had pictured something similar to the NZ wineries or small breweries. I couldn’t have been more wrong. In a half opened brick extension to the shop and house sat two large stainless cylinders of around 500 litres capacity. The first had a conical lid and this was where the rice and water was boiled to extract the starches and sugars that would be turned to alcohol. The second had a raggedy old stainless piping rising from it that went through the wall to the outside area. Both cylinders were heated by an open fire fuelled by the the husk of coffee beans – nothing goes to waste in these parts. The beans dropped into the fire via gravity. Baskets of husks were thrown on a table above the fire that had a small hole in the back. As husks burned, more were fed into the flames. It was rather an ingenious setup. The pipe from the second cylinder collected the steam and ran through a water tank, cooling it and turning it into liquid – rice wine. A 10 litre plastic container collected the finished product via a funnel. We sampled a small shot each – it came in at approximately 70% alcohol but wasn’t nearly as harsh as I was expecting. I took enough photos to ensure I can pass the plans on to someone at home for The Man Room Rice Wine Distillery.

Around the back of the shop, we saw cages with weasels in them. These were the workers in the army that created one of Vietnam’s favourite exports – Weasel Coffee. They eat the coffee beans, process them with their stomach acid and shit them back out. No one seemed to know the exact scientific reason but, once cleaned I assume – the coffee comes out tasting better than it would have had it not passed through.

Back around the front I’d finally built up the guts to try the 9 snake, 2 gecko and 1 bird rice wine and I must admit it was pretty damn good. Jo also tried some but didn’t think much of it. I detected some earthy notes that I hadn’t tasted in previous rice wines. The shot cost D10,000, which represented pretty good value. Son told me to expect stallion like qualities to appear later that night.

The next stop was less than a few kilometres down he road at a pair of neighbouring houses that took bamboo poles, stripped them and made baskets. I must admit that after 9 snake, 2 gecko and one bird rice wine this was not a suitable follow up.

As is customary on all day tours we had to stop at a touristy place that would help us part with our money. In this instance it was a silk factory. Son showed us through the entire process from silkworm to embroidered scarf. Whilst the setup was done with the aid of machinery, the process was still heavily labour intensive. The worm cocoons are heated and the silk around them loosens up so a machine can spindle it. From there the spindles are dried and the worms, still in their cocoon, are put aside. A few were left on the hot water pipe to cook so we had a taste. Jo wasn’t too fussed but I thought they were great – quite nutty in taste and texture. They’d be great with water spinach I reckon. The machine that weaves the silk was quite a sight to behold. It was electrified although it was a very basic system with pulleys and chains doing the work. What held my interest was the patterns. The designs were put on a punch card not dissimilar to the old music boxes. Most of he machine was made of timber and it was fascinating to watch it at work. Unsurprisingly, the exit was through the gift shop where Jo ensured we left with less money than we arrived with.

The Elephant falls were less than a kilometre away and Son took us to the edge of the falls then left us to our own devices. It became clear why not long after as a Bachelor of Rock Climbing seemed to be the minimum degree required to descend to the bottom. Stairs (of sorts) were probably there at some point but the treads of many thousands of tourists had worn them down at best or removed them completely at worst. The spray from the falls made everything ice like in grip levels. We made it to the bottom 10 minutes later and the walk was worth it. In a small gap between two rocks the spray and wind came flying through in an awesome display of the powers of nature.

We headed back towards Dalat with a quick stop at the coffee shop to negotiate a bottle of the 9 snake, 2 gecko and 1 bird rice wine. D250,000 (NZ$17) seemed about right and Jo added a bottle of more legitimate sticky rice wine for D50,000.

I semi attached the video camera to my handlebars for the 35 kiometre ride back to Dalat although I had to ride one handed most of the way. Son picked up the pace just a little so we could enjoy the windy mountain roads a bit more.

We arrived at Dalat Hotel du Parc just after 1330, more than happy with our day and particularly happy with our guide Son who spoke excellent english and was really knowledgable also. The tour was US$35 very well spent.

We figured we had time to get back to Trong Dong Restaurant before our taxi to the airport so we had a final motorbike ride to the other side of town.

The appetisers were the same as dinner the night before – prawn paste on sugar cane along with pork and shrimp toast. I ordered chicken curry for the main and Jo went with prawns. As expected both were sensational I needed some bread to sop up the delicious sauce and when I asked the waitress, she jumped on her motorbike and bought some from somewhere down the road. The food was first class and the service unbeatable.

We parked our ride for the last time at the hotel and loaded the taxi van to the airport, arriving and checking in around 1500 for what was surely the shortest plane trip we’ve ever had. The plane took off at 1606, the pilot advised the attendants to prepare for landing at 1618 and we landed in HCMC at 1632.

Jo had booked us at Thuan Thien Hotel not far from the main markets so we were able to tell the cab driver where to go. On arrival the meter read D108,000 so I handed over D110,000 but it seemed to infuriate our driver. Jo, realising there my be trouble, jumped out of the cab as our voices raised and an argument in two different languages ensued. Jo had the presence of mind to unlock the boot the moment our driver left the car and grabbed our bags from the boot – I don’t think I’ve ever been so proud. The driver followed us to the hotel reception where it was explained to me that all the guy wanted was D10,000 (NZ$0.67) for the airport tax. I paid up immediately.

We weren’t sure how to get to Cambodia but the US$72 each two day boat/bus combo seemed good enough for us. We booked and went out to get some dinner from the market. I had snails in a sauce of unknown origin and Jo went with the prawns. We had a few cokes & beers as well as coconut juice straight from the coconut and the bill came to D270,000 – less than NZ$20.

We almost bought a few tshirts but couldn’t talk the stall owner down the D20,000 I needed but we picked up three caps for US$8.

We went back to the hotel where I did some blogging and we finally got to sleep at 2145. Our tour bus was due at 0730 the following morning and we were headed out of Vietnam.