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