South-east Asia

As we approached the island, I had that sinking feeling when you know reality is not going to meet expectations.  At first glance, it was clear that our “resort” was a little more rustic than I had anticipated.  My spirits raised a little when a young German girl welcomed us to our bungalow with a couple of cool, refreshing glasses of lemonade, but were then utterly dashed when she asked, “Would you like a rat trap for your bungalow – no extra charge.” And so began our stay on Koh Thomei, a small island flanked by mangrove forests part of Ream National Park.  The island is uninhabited except for a few people and one resort.  The Park is supposedly home to some of Cambodia’s most exquisite beaches.  It was based on such descriptions that we thought we were heading to paradise.

The resort is comprised of about 10 simple bungalows, modestly furnished with beds and rustic wardrobes, and equipped with modern ensuite bathrooms.  The beds are enclosed in mosquito nets, an essential as the mosquitoes are rather fierce at night.  We had an old fan in our room that didn’t do much, not that it mattered since power was turned off at 10:00 pm, just when you really needed the fan.  The restaurant where we ate all our meals was an open air building also facing the sea.  The food was delicious, prepared by one of the owners and her competent local staff.  The bungalows were a bargain at $20 per night, and on average we spent about $60 day which covered all our food and drinks, including alcoholic beverages.

In spite of the offer of a rat trap, we never did see a rat while we were there.  We did, however, see (and smell) a dead dog that had washed up on the shore (yuck!).  As if that was not disturbing enough, that “pristine beach” we read about, sure didn’t exist on this part of the island.  The resort owners were diligent about cleaning the beach around their property each day, but as soon as we ventured beyond, it felt like we were walking through a garbage dump.  All manner of debris was washed up on shore.

Perhaps you can understand my reluctance to go swimming in the water that was the source of such filth, not even dipping my toe in during the length of our stay.  After just one walk on the beach, I decided to stay on the resort property, content to escape in my new book, “The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet” by David Mitchell, the same author who wrote “Cloud Atlas”. It was a great read (thanks Marc for the recommendation!) and I quite enjoyed lazing around each day.

The nights were an entirely different matter.  The air was still, not a whiff of a breeze, and the mosquito net felt claustrophobic around us.  We tossed and turned each night, sweating like pigs in the oppressive heat.  After three nights, we were ready to move on – Can Tho, Vietnam was our next destination.  

On our departure day, a couple of German girls who were in Cambodia working on assignment with Elle magazine, recommended we stop for lunch at Kimly’s, in a small seaside town called Kep, famous for their fried blue crab and world famous Kampot pepper.  The girls were quick to explain that they had completed their assignment and were now on their own time (and dime) – after living rather extravagantly on the Elle travel budget.  We already had plans to take the bus directly to the border, so we didn’t think a visit to Kep was in the cards for us.

Lucky for us, our travel plans got all messed up that day.  The boat was late, causing us to miss our bus.  The only other transportation option was to take a taxi, an outrageous $50 fare to Kep.  The resort owner offered $20 to cover the cost of our bus tickets (which we hadn’t yet purchased) which we accepted as fair compensation for what was their scheduling error and it helped take the bite out of our taxi fare.  On the way to Kep, we decided to stay there overnight since there were no more buses to Vietnam at that time of day.

Using our 3-year old Lonely Planet guide, we found a place to stay that sounded reasonable enough.  It was in the budget section and was described as a modest group of bungalows in a garden setting.  It would be fine for one night.  Little did we know that we picked one of the nicest resorts in the area.  Vanna Bungalow Resort had undergone a major facelift since our guide book was written and was now more upscale, complete with a gorgeous pool overlooking the sea.   The resort is set high on the hillside and offers sweeping views of the coastline and sea.  It was nothing short of spectacular, and at $35 per night including a delicious breakfast, it was good value too.

Our one night turned into three during which time we feasted at Kimly’s on their infamous fried blue crab and green Kampot peppers, and toured the countryside with a very knowledgeable tuk tuk driver, Mr. Dy.  We discovered the area was rich in beauty and  resources – the sea served up all manner of seafood – squid, eel, crab, fish. We visited salt flats, fruit orchards, and a pepper plantation. We saw large concrete swallow houses where the nests are sold to the Chinese for the swallow spit, a lucrative business fetching $2,000-$3,000 per kilogram.  The saliva is a main ingredient in bird’s nest soup, a Chinese delicacy supposedly rich in nutrients, and traditionally believed to offer health benefits such as aiding digestion, raising libido, improving the voice, alleviating asthma, improving focus and an overall benefit to the immune system.

The salt flats reminded us of our tour of the salt flats in Bolivia.

Pepper plantation where green (fresh), red, black and white pepper 
is harvested from the same plants.  Kampot Pepper is world
renowned (although we had never heard of it before). 

Jack Fruit, similar to Durian Fruit but less smelly.  Just one
of the many fruit trees we saw at the pepper plantation. 

Sparrow houses where sparrow spit is collected for bird’s nest soup.

Kep National Park was literally just behind our resort and the trail head to a pleasant 8 km loop around the mountain was a five minute walk away.  Half of the trail was well shaded, passing through lush jungle and tropical rain forest where we saw bright, colourful butterflies and many varieties of exotic birds.  The other half of the trail was less impressive, following a dirt road back to the beginning with no shade whatsoever.  The trail is maintained by a local cafe, Led Zep, who have installed excellent signs along the trail and lots of benches at the scenic vistas.  

Somewhat reluctantly, after three days, we packed our bags and headed for Can Tho, Vietnam, a mere 200 km away.  Little did we know it would take 10 hours to get there, but I’ll save that story for another time.

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A visa is required to enter Vietnam, and none of the Cambodia/Vietnam land border crossings issue them on arrival. Sihanoukville, a small town on the southern coast of Cambodia is known for beautiful beaches and easy Vietnam visas, a well earned reputation on both counts based on our recent visit to the area. After spending three days in the hustle and bustle of Phnom Penh, we were ready for a bit of peace and quiet and natural beauty to recharge ourselves before we head to Vietnam.

Our stay in Phnom Penh was very comfortable at the Monsoon Hotel, a small boutique hotel within a block of the waterfront and a few blocks from the night market.  At $40/night including breakfast, we thought it was really good value considering the location and the quality of the establishment.  As you know we spent a day taking a walk back in history, an experience that left me feeling utterly spent emotionally.  The rest of our stay in Phnom Penh was rather low key – evening strolls along the lovely board walk that follows the Mekong River for a few kilometres, walking around the local neighbourhood, a visit to the King’s Palace, which, contrary to what we had been told, was open to the public even though the king had died last November.  

Bus travel in Cambodia is perilous with the poor road conditions and the aggressive drivers.  With that in mind, we bought tickets on the most expensive bus available (Ibis) to get us to Sihanoukville, four hours away.  What a disappointment when we realized we were travelling on a mini-bus.  To make matters worse, we had the craziest bus driver ever – passing when it wasn’t safe to do so, swerving in and out of traffic – one of the passengers even pleaded with the driver to slow down because she was so scared. Her pleas fell on deaf ears.

We were relieved to arrive safely in Sihanoukville late Thursday afternoon and to be greeted by a tuk tuk driver arranged by our hotel, Cheers Cambodia Gay Resort.  That’s right, we would be spending the next two days in a gay resort.  To be honest, we didn’t really know what that meant, if it meant anything other than what the name implied, a resort catering to gays.  The resort was lovely, with large, bright, spotless rooms fitted with comfortable beds and linens and beautiful handcrafted furniture from Malaysia.  An inviting pool complete with jacuzzi and stunning waterfall wall feature really made it feel like a resort.  There is a restaurant/bar area with a kick ass sound system at the back of the property.  While obviously catering to a gay clientele, the owners, Steve and Les are very straight friendly and made us feel welcome.  It was very quiet while we were there, which is what we like.  I think it would have been a very different experience if the resort had been full as Les himself explained they liked to party late and sleep ’til noon, not exactly our style.

When our hosts learned that we were in Sihanoukville to get our Vietnam visas, they offered to arrange for someone to get them for us.  At dinner time, we handed over our passports, a photo and money (US $65 each) and by breakfast the next day, our passports were returned with our new visas.  We didn’t do any paperwork or sign any forms.  It was the easiest visa we have every gotten.  We’re keeping our fingers crossed that it is indeed valid and gets us through the border!

With our visas completed, and our laundry dropped off , we now had a whole day at our disposal.  Aside from the beaches, Sihanoukville doesn’t  have too much to offer.  It is a sprawling, noisy, dirty town that looks like every other Asian town we have seen.  So we headed out of town to Otres Beach, a quiet strip of white sand  tucked away from all the tourist crowds.  Beach restaurants line one end of the beach and the other end is just wide empty beach sparsely lined with trees and covered in white sand – gorgeous.

Practice for “pool sitting”, oh, I mean house sitting this summer!

With our visas pasted in our passports, we’re now ready for Vietnam, but before we leave Cambodia, we’ve decided to make one last stop on one of the many beautiful islands that lie off the southern coast in the Gulf of Thailand.  A good dose of mother nature will recharge us for what we expect will be a busy month in Vietnam – or at least that is the plan. 

While touring Phnom Penh, our tuk tuk driver bought us these masks
to protect us from the dusty, dirty roads. 

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Phnom Penh has been the capital of Cambodia since the country was colonized by the French.  In the 1920’s, it was known as the “Pearl of Asia” and was considered one of the prettiest French-built cities in Indochina.  It’s a significant tourist destination these days, but people aren’t going to Phnom Penh to gawk at the crumbling French architecture.  Rather, there are two gruesome sites that are drawing in the tourists, and we were no exception, making us an unwitting participant in what has in recent years been called “genocide tourism”, or “dark tourism”.
The Tuol Sleng Museum of Genocide, or as it is more commonly known, S-21 used to be a high school until the Khmer Rouge turned it into a torture, interrogation and execution center in 1976 when they came to power after years of civil war and strife.  Of the over 14,000 people who entered, only seven survived.  The Khmer Rouge were methodical record keepers, transcribing each prisoner’s interrogation session as well as carefully photographing the vast majority of the inmates, establishing an astonishing photographic archive of their crimes.  6,000 of these photographs have been recovered and many are now on display at the Museum, each one a story of shock, resignation, confusion, defiance and horror.

As you approach the museum, it is hard to prepare yourself for what you are about to experience.  The museum is located in a lively, noisy neighbourhood but once you walk through the gates into the former school yard, an eerie silence permeates the grounds.  At first glance, it looks like any high school – five buildings facing a grass courtyard that has pull up bars, green lawns, and lawn bowling pitches. But then you walk through the buildings and what you see is such an affront to your senses that it renders you speechless. People pass through the three storey buildings in a hushed quiet, whispering expressions of shock and horror to those near them.

In the first building, the rooms remain as they were found: each classroom was transformed into an interrogation/torture cell that contained a table and chair opposite a metal cot with shackles at each end.  On the wall is a photograph of the last victim who occupied the bed, often with pools of wet blood underneath; the photo was taken by the two Vietnamese photojournalists who discovered S-21 in January 1979.

Another building displays hundreds of haunting photos of the victims who passed through this place during the three years the Khmer Rouge were in power.  One photo stands out, a young mother holding her infant child in her arms, with an expression of hopeless but defiant resignation in her eyes – she seems to know what awaits her and her baby.

Barbed wire still covers the front of another building, used to ensure prisoners could not commit suicide by jumping from the third floor.  By the time I reached this building, I must admit I could not enter it.  I had seen enough, heard enough, witnessed enough.

The so-called confessions of prisoners are displayed in another building along with the prisoner’s photo.  Once sufficient self-confessed evidence of being a traitor or a spy was extracted from a victim usually after long periods of brutal torture and deprivation, they were trucked out to Choeung Ek at night where they were killed.

A memorial has been established at  Choeung Ek which is now known as the Choeung Ek Memorial, the second site we visited during our trip to Phnom Penh.  This area, located about 20 km south of Phnom Penh, became one of the most infamous killing fields during the Khmer Rouge regime. More than 17,000 men, women and children were brutally executed here, often after suffering through interrogation, torture and deprivation at the S-21 Prison.

Today, the area is a tranquil, park-like setting where paths lead you around the mass graves, killing areas and a memorial stupa that contains thousands of human skulls and bones.  The provided audio guide was one of the best we have heard.  Narrated by a local Cambodian man who lived and survived the three years of terror during which the Khmer Rouge killed about a quarter of the population.  Small signs stand where there were once buildings, and at each one, the audio guide explains what the building was used for.  We learned about the way prisoners were processed and then brutally murdered – why waste a precious bullet when a hammer, or garden tool would accomplish the same goal.  We saw the tree against which babies’ heads were smashed before being tossed into the neighbouring pit.  Their rationale for killing innocent children and babies was that it was better to exterminate an entire family so there would be no one left to seek revenge.

The audio tour ends at the Buddhist stupa, a tall pyramid like building with  acrylic glass sides, filled with more than 5,000 human skulls that were excavated from the site. There are seventeen shelves of human bones rising to the top of the stupa.  Visitors may enter the stupa where you get a very close up view of the shelves of skulls, all of which have been forensically examined and categorized by gender and age.  You don’t need to be a forensic scientist to ascertain the cause of death – blunt trauma to the head as evidenced by the cracked or smashed skulls.

It was difficult to visit these two sites.  It reminded us of our visit to Germany last fall when we went to the Buchenwald Concentration Camp in Weimar and the Holocaust Memorial in Berlin as well as Israel’s official Holocaust memorial in Jerusalem. Unlike the atrocities committed by Hitler and the Nazis during the Second World War, the Khmer Rouge reigned during the 70’s when I was a teenager.  Somehow this hits closer to home for me – the fact that this happened during my lifetime makes me feel so outraged and helpless. I find myself stunned almost beyond feeling when I read and hear of these horrors that man has afflicted on man.  It sickens me, and angers me that these things have happened, and that they continue to happen to this day in various parts of the world.  How are humans capable of such atrocities?

The whole idea of “genocide tourism” is something new to me and one I will research further.  But it has made me ask myself: What compels me to go to these gruesome sites?  First it is an education in history, to learn in a powerful way what has happened in the past.  Second I see it as a way to show respect for the victims who died here, that they are not forgotten and hopefully have not died in vain.  And finally, I hope these sites will jolt us to our senses so that such atrocities will never happen again.

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On the 4-hour bus ride from Siem Reap to Battambang (on a comfortable bus even though it was old and dirty), we stopped twice for refreshments. Ladies with  trays of roasted crickets were eagerly awaiting our business.  Or maybe we would prefer whole, deep fried baby chickens (or maybe they were pigeons – hard to tell when coated in batter) – complete with head, beak and toenails  intact!  We decided we weren’t that hungry after all.

When we arrive in a new location, the first challenge is to find our accommodations. We have gotten into the habit of reserving ahead these days which takes some of the pressure off on arrival. It can be a rather daunting experience to get oriented, so it is always a welcome sight when we have arranged for someone to pick us up and we see a sign with our name on it, or as in the case of our arrival in Battambang, there was a sign with the name of our hotel on it – The Royal Hotel.  Turns out that many tuk tuk drivers work with hotels to provide free pick up at the bus station and airport with the hope they will secure further business with the tourists.  A lost leader of sorts.  And it works!

Upon arrival at the hotel, the driver introduced himself as Sophorn and offered to take us on a tour into the countryside the next day for US$9.00 per person.  We usually don’t accept such an offer on the spot, preferring to do our own research first, to find out the going rate in order to consider all our options.  Not to mention our concern over the condition of his bike.  But Sophorn gently persuaded us to accept his offer with the understanding we could call him at any time to cancel.  We had nothing to lose!

Our hotel turned out to be great value for just US $20.00 per night – large, spotless rooms with comfy beds, ensuite bathroom, a wardrobe, desk and TV.  Best of all, it had air conditioning.  It was located right in the middle of town about a half a block from the main market.  Chris even managed to get us breakfast included with our rate, which was served on the rooftop terrace.  The food was average, but the coffee was delicious.

After confirming Sophorn’s rates were fair and the route he suggested took in all the major local sights, not to mention the fact that he seemed to speak pretty good English from the brief exchange we had, we decided to take Sophorn up on his offer, and are we ever glad we did.

Our first stop was the infamous bamboo train which is really nothing more than a 3m long wood frame, lined with slats of bamboo, resting on two sets of train wheels that look like bar bells, powered by a small engine.  It can take a load of up to 15 people or 3 tonnes of rice cruising at a top speed of 50 km/h.

This ingenious train leverages the more than 400 miles of single track railway laid across the country by the French during their colonial rule during the 1920’s. The “norry”, as the bamboo train is called, solves the predictable problem of a single track line – what to do when two trains going opposite directions meet?  The norry can be easily dismantled in a few minutes and taken off the track in the face of an oncoming train or other norry. The tracks are in terrible condition, making for a bumpy, wobbly ride.

Our excursion on the bamboo train took us through the countryside to a small village where there were plenty of vendors set up selling food, drinks and souvenirs.  Small children expertly and quickly transformed long grass reeds into flowers and rings, offering them to tourists “for free”. This was a great way to get rid of some of our Cambodian Riel which are only worth a few cents anyways.  The kids were happy to get whatever you offered.

Although quite touristy, it was a unique experience, especially when we met  another norry coming in the opposite direction.  The rules of the rail dictate that the train with the smaller load must yield and dismantle off the tracks to let the larger load pass. With three passengers on our norry, ourselves and another tourist, Andrew from Scotland, we usually had the right of way.

Back at the train station, we learned that Andrew had stayed at a home-stay the night before in support of an NGO and was touring the countryside with a volunteer teacher from the NGO, on the back of her motorcycle. Throughout the day, a story emerged, little by little, that by the end, would truly warm our hearts. But for now, all we knew was that Andrew and his “guide” were coming along with us on our tour.

Sophorn was eager to give us an interesting tour.  After the bamboo train, we travelled along some dusty back roads through typical rural villages, giving us a glimpse into what life is  like for the average Cambodian.  Poverty is plain to see, as evidenced by the tattered clothes of children and the very humble shacks where people lived.  Because it is dry season, everything is covered in a thick layer of dirt.  All the trees looked dead, because their leaves were brown from the grime.

Whenever Sophorn saw something of interest, he stopped and explained it to us.  For example, there were many weddings under way and we learned that a young couple will seek the advice of a fortune teller in order to determine what day to hold their wedding. Turns out this day was a popular one!  Girls are usually around 18 years old when they get married, but their husbands to be are much older, 30 or more.  Arranged marriages are still the norm.  When we stopped at the “Golden Gate Bridge” and a fishing village, we learned how the locals planted crops along the river edge during the dry season when they couldn’t fish.  They truly live from one day to the next.

One of several wedding tents we passed, set up on the road making
it a tight squeeze to get around. 

Peanuts drying in the sunshine next to the road.

Young girl emptying the creek to catch fish.

While this rich agricultural region is as flat as a pancake, the temples in the area are perched at the top of hills that just randomly pop up out of the fields like giant ant hills.  After climbing hundreds of steps, we were rewarded with great views, as well as temple ruins older than Angkor Wat.

Our new Scottish friend, Andrew looks on as a young boy fans
me halfway up the steps to the temple. Was I encouraging child labour when
I gave him a buck for his efforts?  Or was I putting food in his stomach that day?
It’s hard to know what to do sometimes.

View from the top of the temple.

Temple ruins older than Angkor Wat at the top of the hill.

We saw fruit bats clinging to trees near a temple where somehow they know they are safe because they are in such close proximity to holy grounds.  These bats are huge, with a wing span of several feet. But they are a nuisance to local farmers because they feed on ripe fruit.  Farmers manage the problem by killing them with sling shots – apparently bats provide a tasty meal.

We visited a winery where we tasted some pretty good Shiraz, some pure grape juice, grape brandy, and pure ginger nectar.

At another temple, also perched atop a hill, we walked into a cave that was used by the Khmer Rouge as a mass grave, one of the notorious killing fields.  A case of skulls was a gruesome and vivid reminder of the horrors of a three year reign of terror that besieged the country in the mid-70’s.  We learned much more during our visit to the capital city, Phnom Penh, which I’ll share in a future post.

Vivid reminders of the atrocities that occurred when the Khmer Rouge were in power.

We ended our day at a bat cave, where at sunset, millions of bats depart on their daily nocturnal feeding frenzy (of insects that is) before returning home at sunrise.  What a sight to see bats streaming out of a small cave, forming a black line against the horizon. As the bats ventured further afar, the long line broke off into smaller groups, swirling gracefully like a beautifully choreographed dance.  It was a fitting end to a wonderful day in the Cambodian countryside.

But what about Sophorn and his story? Sophorn spoke excellent English and was very articulate, yet he seemed a little reticent about talking about himself or his family.  But each time we stopped, we learned a little more about him, his family and the admirable work he is doing.  Born in 1973, he was a young lad during the reign of the Khmer Rouge. His father was killed by the Khmer Rouge, and he had no other brothers and sisters.  He told us he had two dates of birth – the real one (1973) and the one on his birth certificate – 1977 – a clever change made by his mother so that he would not be recruited as a child soldier.  By the late 70’s, his mother sent him to relatives in Japan to further protect him with the hopes he would have a better life there.

When he returned to Cambodia, he made a living as a motorcycle taxi driver, where he carried a passenger on the back of the bike. When he met an Australian family, his life would never be the same again. This family offered to sponsor him through University!  What an opportunity for him!

When he graduated with a degree in business management, he decided to create an NGO – Battambang Orphanage Village Assistance (BOVA).  The goal of his NGO is to provide care, education and vocational training to Cambodian orphans and the needy children of rural Cambodia and at the same time to build a network of support for impoverished children and families.

We were really impressed that Sophorn was using his education to help others.  He explained that he works as a tuk tuk driver to support his family (he has a wife and two daughters), but anything extra goes to the NGO. He has been offered several lucrative jobs, but if he takes them, he won’t have time for the NGO.  So he is content to be a tuk tuk driver for now.

The NGO is in the process of building a proper school and home for the orphans, and he is doing all the construction himself to save the cost of labour – in his spare time, that is – and only when there is money. He along with other volunteer teachers have started an English language program outside of the regular school system to help children learn English, something he believes is necessary for them to succeed.  The NGO is really in its infancy, just a couple of years old, but Sophorn has lofty goals to reach out with orphanage and school service programs beyond his own community of Battambang into other rural areas.

Like all non-profits, raising money is an ongoing challenge. But there is something about Sophorn, his modesty, humility and sincerity, that once you meet him, makes you want to help him.  Others have felt this way too.

He talked about his friends in Spain who paid for the costs to register the NGO, and as if that wasn’t enough, they gave him the $500 required as a minimal balance to open a bank account.  Another generous person donated a laptop.  And of course there is the Australian family who sponsored him in the first place, paying for his university education, and later contributing the tuk tuk to his NGO.  An Australian university group came to do a documentary on Sophorn, after a chance encounter with the university’s program director and his wife.  He hopes that once the documentary is published, the positive exposure will further help BOVA.

I was impressed that Sophorn never asked us for money or even hinted that we might like to help him.  It was clear that as far as he was concerned, hiring him for the day, giving him employment, was more than enough.

We are aware that there are many unscrupulous people in Cambodia who use orphanages to further their own means and to dupe unsuspecting tourists in parting with their money, money that will line the pockets of these rogues, with nothing going to the children under their care.  Armed with this knowledge, Chris remained somewhat guarded all day, showing minimal interest in Sophorn’s story.  I, on the other hand, felt immediately touched by his story, and I kept asking him questions, so curious about what he was doing.  I never doubted his story, besides, there was plenty of reason to believe him.  Andrew was staying at a home stay run by the NGO – evidence that the NGO existed.  We saw an advertisement for his NGO in a tourist brochure at one of our stops.  He also showed us some photos on his laptop of the university group making the documentary.   There was no doubt in my mind, that this was a legitimate NGO, run by a very honest, trustworthy CEO.  By the end of the day, I could see that Chris was convinced too.

Sophorn and the work he is doing through BOVA touched our hearts and we plan to stay in touch with him and help him in his worthy cause.  You can read more about BOVA and the various projects that are currently underway on their website and  of course, if you are touched as we were, we can guarantee that any donation you make will go to a most worthy cause.

At the Battambang bus station, awaiting our bus to Phnom Penh.

Video:  A day in rural Cambodia
 

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I awoke early Thursday morning sweating profusely.  It only took a moment before I realized the fan wasn’t working because we had no electricity.  This meant no water either as our budget (US $10/night for fan room) guest house (Bayon Garden) uses a water reservoir with a pump that is run by electricity.  Our room was now an unbearable sauna and we couldn’t even cool off in the shower.

By 7:30, we escaped in search of breakfast.  Our guest house host advised us the entire city was out of power, something that rarely happens during the dry season. As we entered the tourist section of the city, many of the shops and restaurants were being powered by generator – maybe we would get a good cup of coffee after all!

By the time we finished breakfast, it looked like power had come back to the area.   It was a different story back at our guest house which was located on the other side of the river, a few blocks outside the tourist district.  Normally this would be considered an ideal location, a quiet side street within walking distance to all the noisy restaurants and bars.  But today it was a definite disadvantage as we learned the power might be out for three days or more.  According to the Cambodia Herald, an overloaded truck crashed into eleven power poles and damaged a transmission line from Thailand.  It could take up to a week to repair.  The city’s generator’s could provide only 25 per cent of the city’s power needs and clearly the main tourist district was considered the highest priority.

After three days at Angkor Wat, we were planning a “down” day, to work on the blog and to do travel research.  So we grabbed our laptops and headed back to the restaurant where we had breakfast.  We installed ourselves in a booth under a high powered fan and there we stayed for the rest of the day, drinking cheap beer (US $0.50 per draught), eating whenever we were hungry, and getting our “work” done. The waiters became friendly with us and we learned a little about their lives.  They all drooled over Chris’ Mac Book Air and watched as Chris worked on photos and some video clips.  It turned into a fun day that was both relaxing and productive!

The Temple Restaurant, our “office” for the day.

I was struggling with the last Laos post, having suffered from a bad case of writer’s block for a while, so when I finally finished that one, we celebrated with a pitcher of our favourite cocktail – vodka and tonic with lots of lime. For US $8.00, we each got about 3 tall glasses.  

Alcohol in Cambodia is ridiculously cheap – we saw Irish Whisky selling for half the price it goes for in Ireland where they make the stuff.  A litre of brand name spirits (gin, vodka, rum – whatever your fancy) starts at about US $7.00 per bottle.  

The currency here in Cambodia is Cambodian Riel (US $1.00 = 4,000 KHR) but everybody uses the American dollar.  Occasionally someone will charge in Riel but will always accept US dollars in payment.  If your change is less than a dollar, you are given Riel, the smallest denomination of which is 100 KHR, or about 2 cents.  Even the ATM machines dispense US dollars.  We’ve been enjoying not having to do any conversion math while in this country.

Some currencies are much easier than others to convert – Laos being one of the more difficult ones we encountered with a rate of CAD $1.00 = 7,700 KIP.  Even rounding up to 8,000 KIP, challenged our mathematical skills at times.  We also had to carry around wads of cash – the bank machines dispensed a maximum of a million KIP per transaction, which translated into a lot of bills, yet was worth just over one hundred dollars ($130 to be exact) – see what I mean about doing the conversions!

We learned a lesson in Siem Reap – never, ever book a fan only room if there is an option for air conditioning.  We really suffered in our room, even before the power outage.  There was simply no reprieve from the oppressive heat that would be particularly unbearable in the late afternoon and early evening.  To make matters worse, our windows had no screens, so we had no protection from bugs whenever we opened the wooden shutters to let some air into the room.  We were eaten alive by tiny insects, smaller than mosquitoes.  

Because of the power outage, we decided to stick to our original plans and head to Battambang for the weekend, where we had heard about a bamboo train that we could take to a rural village.  We’ll tell you all about that and so much more that happened on our excursion into the Cambodian countryside in our next post.

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