And in conclusion...Cambodian moments to remember

Rather than write a summary of sentimental drivel, below is a list of the top 10 Cambodian memories from our time as "barangs in the 'bode".

Above: the journey of barangs in the 'bode.

10 Memories
1. "No Tiger". The funniest joke of a very strange day, when our driver, Poly, indicated (to our relief) that the jungle surrounding Pol Pot's house did not contain big cats.

2. "Fish can walk". Another three-syllabled sentence that yielded laughs galore. This time we were at the mangroves and our guide was commentating the movements of a salamander. Who said vocabulary was important?

3. "No landmine". Less than 30 seconds after being told that there were no landmines in the vicinity of Koh Ker, we spotted the skull and crossbones sign indicating a minefield. In case we'd forgotten, this was Cambodia. The well-worn path had never looked so good.

4. Cambodian karaoke videos. Much to my dismay, almost every bus journey had a Cambodian popsong soundtrack. However, the joke was on me, and I eventually succumbed. I am now the proud owner of a catchy Cambodian pop album. Don't laugh.

5. Crab at Kep. Out off the sea and into my belly within 15 minutes. Enough said.

6. The language. Sok sabai? Sai Sabok. Spoonerisms, wordplay, tongue-twisters and more - the Khmer language is good fun to speak and the Khmers have a great deal of fun manipulating it for pleasure.

7. Transport. Tuk tuks, buses, taxis, motodops, bicycles, boats, rafts, and even good old-fashioned walking. Getting around the bodge has certainly been interesting and varied.

8. Nothing is Ordinary. This is the slogan I suggested when the Ministry of Tourism opened a competition to coin the slogan for a forthcoming advertising campaign. Predictably, the winning entry was boring and will attract nobody to Cambodia (Kingdom of Wonder). That does not change that fact that nothing is ordinary in Cambodia. It has been an assault on the senses, and it has been extraordinary.

9. People of Cambodia. The people and their humour will be what I miss most.

10. Hun Sen. A man who provided the material for so many of my conversations in Cambodia. Goodbye to Hun Sen and the members of the Cambodian People's Party!

Above: Goodbye to a man who has inspired so much in Cambodia.

Leg 17: hardly Siamese twins

We drove from Battambang to the Thai border at Poipet with slightly heavy hearts. Leaving Cambodia is sad, and who knows what it will resemble next time we are here; it is a country that is changing quickly.

The taxi driver ensured that the journey was suitably hair-raising by minimising the amount of time required to complete the job. On arrival at the border, EL handed over her Cambodian SIM card to the taxi driver (he was then to pass it onto a tuk tuk driver in Battambang) and we meandered to the checkpoint.

Leg 17: Battambang-Poipet (in green).

And then it was sawasdee kap Thailand. The difference between Cambodia and Thailand was immediately apparent and it was quite a shock after 18 months in Cambodia.

Getting acclimatised to a new language, a new currency, a new way of thinking, and the new quirks of life is going to take some time but, as always, will be a spectacularly fun process. Goodbye Cambodia, hello Thailand.

Next stop: Phuket and onwards

Leg 16: cirque du Battambang

After 18 months of living in the capital, it was sad to see the end of Phnom Penh. We had already said goodbyes to friends for the last time several times, but today really was the end of our Phnom Penh days.

Leg 16: Phnom Penh-Battambang (in purple).

After considering all border crossings other than Preah Vihear, EL and I elected to cross the border at Poipet, simply for the fact that it would allow us an opportunity to see Phare Ponleu Selpak, a circus based in Battambang.

The circus was nothing short of sensational; brilliant feats with the body combined with a wicked sense of humour, which was a fitting Cambodian finale. With so many pointless moneypits in Cambodia, it was satisfying that one of the better NGOs should have the last word.

Above: a truly Cambodian performance, juggling humour with mind-bending physical feats.

Next Stop: Poipet border crossing (Thailand)

Leg 15: I should be so lucky

With plans fallen through in Kampot, it was back on the bus and back to Phnom Penh. The south of Cambodia is easy on the eye, and I focused on looking out the window in order to take my attention away from the music videos playing at the front of the bus (which are not so easy on the ear).

Leg 15: Kampot-Phnom Penh (in blue).

This was our last stint in Phnom Penh, our home for the past 18 months. Important 11th-hour jobs included sampling Lucky Burger and purchasing a CD by Kemara Srey Mon, the sole Khmer artist of note I have taken a fancy to. However, I wasn't sure of the name of the CD or artist. I therefore needed to sing this tune to a shopkeeper in the hope that she could identify the CD I sought after. Thankfully, the song was recognised after my first rendition. The shopkeeper knew exactly which song I was referring to, and she confided to me that she too loved the song. To enjoy it, you can listen to the song here.

I was secretly hoping that Lucky Burger would be unbelievably good or unbelievably bad in order to generate an excellent blog tale. That was not the case and this tale is not even close to excellent. However, I can report that Lucky Burger was simply a cheap copy of McDonald's, with some additional cardboard properties mixed into the hamburger. It was my first and last Lucky Burger visit.

Above: Lucky Burger. You are lucky to leave without dysentery (with thanks to Tom).

Next stop: Battambang

Leg 14: not part of the bribal party

My sore bottom ensured that the idea of riding the 25 kilometres back to Kampot was less than thrilling. However, a bribe needed to be finalised in Kampot and so we pushed on, albeit at a slower pace than the previous day.

Leg 14: Kep-Kampot (in purple).

We crawled into Kampot after a much slower ride than the initial journey. I took more care to admire the scenery and, as I was previously informed, it was indeed lovely. I am, however, unsure as to whether the scenery from a bus window would have been any different from a bike seat.

Arrival in Kampot came with some bad news - our Bokor Hill Station trip had fallen through. This was our first and last bribe in Cambodia, and it had failed to deliver results. Aside from never seeing Bokor Hill Station, we will now never know the pleasures of greasing the wheels of corruption. In hindsight, perhaps the lost bribe was a good outcome after all.

Next Stop: Phnom Penh

Leg 13: chasing the green jersey

Sick of buses and sick of taxis, it was with enthusiasm that we made our way to Kep by way of bicycle. It was hardly a sprint, but by the time we had puffed our way through the 25 kilometres we were wary of the fact that our bikes were not going to make the return journey to Kampot on their own. I would be lying if I said that the thought of abandoning the bikes (and the bicycle owner) didn't cross my mind.

Leg 13: Kampot-Kep (in green).

Apparently the scenery was lovely as we rode past farms and small villages. At the time, I was busy ensuring that my lungs continued to function and I seem to have missed the view.

Kep turned out to be somewhere between heaven, paradise, and nirvana. However, I may have been so happy to dismount my bicycle that I exaggerated Kep's beauty in my mind. In any case, Kep was a lovely town to relax in.

Dinner in Kep consisted of a plate of the sea's greatest gift: crab. Without question, a saddlesore bum was a small price to pay for such a spectacular dinner.

Above: While it is impossible to imagine watching your steak being slaughtered prior to a meal, seeing your crab being caught is an entirely delightful experience.

Next stop: Kampot

Leg 12: pepperland without the blue meanies

An early bus out of Koh Kong, and onto Sihanoukville – or “Snooky” - for lunch. Snooky is perhaps the worst place in Cambodia, and it was with extreme disappointment that EL and I were caught there for a meal before moving on.

Leg 12: Koh Kong-Kampot (in purple).

In order to escape the wrath of the Snooky, we decided upon travel by taxi. Following the ritual negotiating with drivers, we were delivered in Kampot in time for afternoon tea. On arrival, a bribe was handed to a tour operator in order to facilitate a future trip to Bokor Hill Station. But more on that later...

Kampot turned out to be a lovely town set on a river. So lovely in fact that we decided to spend the remainder of the day with alcoholic beverages in hand whilst overlooking said river.

Next stop: Kep

Leg(s) 11: no bingo in Koh Kong

It was an amusing site that accompanied the toilet break en route to Koh Kong. We had stopped at the public toilet situated immediately prior to a newly-constructed road through the hills. At this point, a large group of people from our bus were seen praying intensely. I hoped they were not praying that the road was in navigable shape. As it happened, we arrived safely in Koh Kong later in the day.

Leg 11: Phnom Penh-Koh Kong (in red).

Low season in Koh Kong meant very few tourists and, therefore, few tour operators. This resulted in most of our plans being quashed in short time. EL and I ventured to the mangroves where we discovered the only sight in town. We then promptly decided to move onward to Kampot.

Above: There weren't too few tourists for this fisherman to turn it on for the photographers.

Next Stop: Kampot

Leg 10: the Penh is mightier than the moored

It became apparent that the proposed trip to Sen Monorom in Mondulkiri was not going to be on the cards. The main reason? The wet has started and, according to one source, cranes are already being employed to lift cars over the flooded parts of the road. So rather than Sen Monorom, to Phnom Penh it was.

Leg 10: Kratie-Phnom Penh (in green).

This morning EL and I visited the Russian Embassy to submit visa applications for a future jaunt. Unwittingly, we had purchased a loaf of bread on the way to the embassy. This left us in the embarrassing situation of sitting in the Russian embassy foyer with a loaf of bread perched on the coffee table as we completed paperwork.

The report on the farewell drinks in Phnom Penh is probably best left to those which can speak a thousand words (below). It was an eventful night.

Above: Before things got messy.
Below: After things got messy.



Next Stop: Koh Kong

Leg 9: escaping Dumb and Dumber

Leaving Banlung meant leaving the tour guides, Dumb and Dumber. We escaped with a huge sigh of relief.

Leg 9: Banlung-Kratie (in green).

Highlights of the return to Kratie included roadside minefields, roadside toilet trips (numbers one and two for some passengers), and a bus driver whose feet could hardly reach the pedals.

Next Stop: Sen Monorom

Leg 8: smell a bit of a Ratanakiri

Several minutes outside Stung Treng, all semblance of paved roads come to a halt. The remaining journey to Banlung consists of red dirt roads. One of the wonders of the world is how these buses travel at such speeds on bumpy roads without completely falling apart. The saving grace is that buses in these parts are not equipped with televisions, and a lack of a telly more than doubles the quality of the journey.

Leg 8: Stung Treng-Banlung (in red).

On arrival in Banlung we had our first meeting with the world's most persistent tour guides, who will henceforth be referred to as Dumb and Dumber. Our plans were fairly well-researched and we weren't interested in adding the 25 best waterfalls Ratanakiri had to offer to our itinerary. We managed to fob off Dumb and Dumber for at least a day and continued with our plans.

The highlight of Ratanakiri was Yeak Long (a crater lake). We hired pushbikes and EL spent six hours enjoying clean water of the lake. I spent six hours enjoying the view of the lake as I worked through a book.

Above: like me, the monk preferred the view of the water.

Returning to the hotel meant another encounter with Dumb and Dumber. We priced some travel agents around to discover, to our horror, that most of the tours were similarly priced with all the unnecessary trimmings. In the end, we negotiated some short trips with Dumb and Dumber inc.

The first expedition was to a village cemetery. As morbid as this appears, the cemetery was quite unique and very interesting. It was then that the troubles (not to be confused with The Troubles) started. Our Khmer language skills are basic at best, but the owner of the eating establishment didn't know that. Without details, we were to pay her double the true cost whether we ate one dish or two. It would have been easier if we couldn't understand her conversation with Dumb and Dumber, as we would have assumed there was a silly misunderstanding. However, this was not the case.

Every half-hour or so, Dumb and Dumber were continually urging us to add components to the trip. Perhaps they expected a tip? In any case, we had intentions of completing our itinerary as quickly as possible, and heading back to the hotel. Following lunch we visited a small village's school, where EL posed as a student in each of the three classrooms while I dreamed of glory at the school's rickety ping pong table.

Above: the greatest danger in the remote classroom is not the bully, but the stray cow pat.

Our final fling with Dumb and Dumber was to the gemstone mines. A BHP project this was not. The scene resembled a Bugs Bunny cartoon with the hundreds of vertcal holes, and the ropes used to manually haul the loot.

Above: The second-most dangerous type of mine in Cambodia. Note the DIY explosives.

On our return to Banlung, Dumb told Dumber in Khmer that "Barang Bei Neak Diet" (There are three more foreigners at the hotel). Again, Dumb and Dumber assumed that we had not understood this conversation. We asked if there would be any further offers to view an additional waterfall but, alas, they were only interested in returning to the hotel as quickly as possible. It was then that karma struck. My moto driver's back tyre sprung a leak, and the return home was delayed by half an hour. It seemed cruel, but it was impossible not to smile at the situation.

Next Stop: Kratie

Leg 7: making life easier in the big pond

A late bus from Kratie gave EL and I the opportunity to complete some chores, one of which was replacing a dodgy phone charger. This was cheap ($4.00) and easy (there were plenty of phone vendors), which was surprising in such a small town. I can think of one phone company that could learn a lesson or two from this part of the world.

On arrival in Stung Treng, we checked into a hotel that, conveniently, also doubled as a furniture shop. Upon inspecting our room, we discovered a long list of "house rules". One of the more logical rules was that guests were forbidden from creating anarchy. Luckily there won't be any rock bands passing through Stung Treng in the next eight or nine decades.

Leg 7: Kratie-Stung Treng (in purple).

Stung Treng gave us an opportunity to take a boat ride up the Mekong to the Laos border. Despite the remoteness of the tiny river hamlets, my mobile phone still indicated full reception. I can think of one phone company that could learn some more lessons from this part of the world.

As we neared the Laos border, and neared the possibility of becoming moored/lost/property of Laos, our driver decided to hire a navigator from the banks of the Mekong. It turns out that in this part of the world, 5,000 riel can buy the best 10-year-old navigator known to mankind. For a reason unbeknown to me, our navigator was brandishing a knife that was almost bigger than he was. I didn't ask why.

Above: a carving knife is the essential tool of a 10-year-old navigator.

Our destination was a waterfall on the Laos border, and a very pleasant lunch venue. Having missed the Irrawaddy Dolphins in Kratie, we went back down-river and were lucky enough to see half a dozen of these rare dolphins. The photos from this adventure are so pathetic that readers will just have to take my word for it that we did, in fact, see the river dolphins.

Next Stop: Banlung

Leg 6: chasing the yellow jersey

Another bus, another round of the Cambodian hit-parade. This time we were venturing to Kratie, a small town on the Mekong River.

Leg 6: Phnom Penh-Kratie (in green).

Having already seen the main attraction in Kratie on a previous visit, EL and I decided rather to sight-see the area on two wheels. We dragged bicycles onto a boat and crossed the Mekong river to Koh Trong (Trong Island) for a leisurely ride. It was hardly the Tour de France, but after eight gruelling kilometres, we were in desperate need of a stiff drink of water.

Above: Loading the ferry for the Koh Trong leg of Tour de Cambodge.

Kratie is a beautiful area, and I recommend the Mekong Discovery Trail itineraries for anyone in the Kratie area. I am looking forward to my payment for that free advertisement. Be that as it may, Cambodia is as flat as a pancake, so there is no reason to let the one-geared pushbike frighten you! The next tour stage will take place close to the Laos border.

Next Stop: Stung Treng

Leg 5: down on all fours

The culture of ancient temples gave way to the awesomeness that is quadbiking. We cruised Siem Reap Town and the surrounding paddy fields, at some points pushing 35 kilometres per hour. No doubt, it was not for the faint-hearted

Leg 5: Siem Reap-Phnom Penh (in blue).

If it were possible, we were planning on taking the quads all the way back to Phnom Penh, but a few reasons prevented that happening.

Above: A quad-ride all the way back to Phnom Penh would have been about 20 hours. That wouldn't have stopped it being totally awesome.

Instead, we took Old Bertha back to Phnom Penh. Happily, the karaoke was blasting at full volume.

Next stop: Kratie

Leg 4: Vihear we come

The Cambodian government has been urging people to visit Preah Vihear province and - not to doubt the wise - EL and I followed the advice of the Cambodian government. We were not to be disappointed.

Leg 4: Siem Reap-Koh Ker-Siem Reap (in blue).

Rather than venturing to the infamous Preah Vihear Temple (located in an area currenlty embroiled of a border dispute), we visited the Koh Ker temple complex. We saw around half a dozen temples, with the highlight being the fact that we were alone in our sightseeing.

Above: Prasat Thom, rumoured to have been built by aliens.

Almost as interesting as the temples were the mineclearing teams camped adjacent to the carpark. This small detail ensured that we refrained from weeing behind tress. Rather, it was sticking to paths and using public toilets.

Next stop: Phnom Penh

Leg 3: and you shall find me a grave man

A tragedy of a different kind, and on a mass scale. This was a day of seeking out the home and grave of one of the 20th Century's biggest tyrants: Pol Pot.

Leg 3: Siem Reap-Anlong Veng-Siem Reap (in pink).

We embarked on the journey with mixed feelings. Is Pol Pot's grave a historical site or is it "genocide tourism"? This was a question EL and I had talked about at length, and we decided on the former.

Our taxi driver was also in two minds over the impending visit, and tried to convince us that Pol Pot's grave didn't exist. However, before making that leap, we were to visit the residence of Ta Mok, or Brother Number 5.

Ta Mok's house was easily accessable, and therefore there were a sprinkling of other visitors. An elderly man you had emigrated to the US in the early-1980s struck up (an unsolicited) conversation with us about his experiences during the Khmer Rouge. This was a timely reminder of the need Cambodians have to have the opportunity to talk about grim experiences if they wish to.

Above: the taxi needed high-octane for high performance. This station fit the bill perfectly.

We procrastinated before moving onto the grave site. It was still a weird idea. We drove to a small shop on the side of the road. I thought our driver was asking directions, but then we were ushered out of the car and around the back of an old house. Stumbling through rubbish and past a chicken coup, I failed to recognise that behind this house lot was in fact the location of Pol Pot's grave.

We stood there and stared. It was not so much a grave but a pathetic attempt at a resting place. This was where Pol Pot was hastily cremated and we didn't know what to do. We wandered around, took a few pictures, and meandered back to the car.

Above: A very strange feeling and the final resting place of Pol Pot.

While it was difficult to articulate to ourselves the significance of the trip, our driver suddenly had come to understand. He had been uneasy at the grave site, but after some time he took a few pictures on his mobile phone. Now he was calling friends to tell them all about it!

The final stop on this grim tour was Pol Pot's house. This involved a long drive through the jungle on an inhospitable road. More than once I was convinced the road was too much for the car would and we would be forced to turn around. However, our driver had a new zest - he wanted to find this infamous house. To complicate things, the land on either side of the road had been mined. We tried to keep this detail out of our head and just concentrated on the road.

Somewhere along the Thai border in the middle of the jungle we finally came across that lonely house that once belonged to Pol Pot. Much of the building had been demolished, but there was a enough to get a sense of what must have been. Bomb shelters and a beautiful view seem to be the standard for tyrants, and this house fit that bill exactly. Another round of awkward looking, pictures and feelings followed, although our driver did start to get very enthusiastic over taking his own pictures.

Above: Pol Pot's house, deep in the jungle.


We then headed back to Siem Reap, sure in the knowledge that this day would be like no other.

Next stop: Koh Ker

Leg 2: 'reap rewards

The pleasant Battambang-Siem Reap bus journey kicked off Leg 2 of Tour de Cambodge. Bus entertainment consisted of a Khmer supernatural film. One did not require to understand the Khmer language to understand that this was perhaps the worst film ever made.


Leg 2: Battambang-Siem Reap (in green).

Arrival at Siem Reap meant a reunion with the wonderful staff at the Siem Reap Hostel.

Being in Siem Reap on holiday meant we were able to make it to Angkor Wat for the first time since 2003. One of the major differences this time was the thousands of tourists at every temple, which came as a real shock. The goal of this tour was to re-visit only a few temples in half a day, rather than kill ourselves with a three-day temple marathon.

Photo highlights below:

Above: the famous Ta Phrom, sans Angelina Jolie.

Above: the silouette of Angkor Wat, with a barely-visible EL.

Above: at the Bayon, Angkor Thom.

Above: the famous faces at the Bayon.

Next stop: Anlong Veng

Leg 1: 'bang and blame

Leg 1 commenced with the legendary Phnom Penh-Battambang bus journey. Happily, a DVD of all 58 Khmer versions of Sean Kingston's Beautiful Girls was played for the duration. Forget prohok, I feel that I have now discovered the true soul of Cambodia.

Leg 1: Phnom Penh-Battambang.

Battambang has been an adventure. Hiring Honda Dreams re-sparked my passion for the freedom of the road. This passion was tempered within a few hours after I unwittingly caused a tractor accident. We didn't get the opportunity to swap insurance details, but I was certainly to blame.

Highlights of the Battambang motorcycle tour included Ek Phnom (11th Century), watching villagers make rice paper, and waving at an endless stream of children screaming "hello!". However, the highest of highlights was undoubtedly the policeman who invited EL and I to drink beers with him. While Friday afternoon usually smells like beer O'Clock to me, we had to turn down the generous offer. As motorcycle novices, a can of ABC was unlikely to enhance our driving skills.

A trip to the 'bang doesn't even count unless it includes a ride on the Bamboo Train.

Above: Our Bamboo Train driver will be of legal drinking age in 2019.

As a self-confessed train enthusiast, this was a must for me. The Bamboo Train did not disappoint, and proved to be one of the ultimate rail experiences in the world. Move over Trans-Siberian, the Battambang Express is the new travel chic: wind in the hair, genuine 1940s tracks, and a driver almost old enough to go to high school. Overall, a wonderful journey to a far-flung coke vendor (and back). Highly recommended.

Next stop: Siem Reap