Hey, everything is ok but been too bus to blog right now!
lots of madness and business - will try and catch up asap.
sorry
Tim
Monday, 28 February 2011
Thursday, 17 February 2011
Don Det - also known as 4000 islands - Laos
Don Det or 4000 islands, is simply spectacular. Perhaps the best scenery in Asia so far. Small Islands of incalculable numbers and in varying sizes litter the blue Mekong like green lilies on the world’s biggest pond. Unbelievably the Mekong is clear here and not it’s usual brown self – a sandy bed making for beaches and mud free waters! But the most amazing thing is simply the sheer width of this beast of a water conduit. It stretches as far as I can see and beyond. I find it impossible to realise that it isn’t an ocean or vast lake – easily the biggest river I have ever seen.
The scene on Det is as unusual as the landscape. People come here to chill, to recover after too many mad nights on the beach maybe: or more likely, after too many happy shakes in a row. There are bars, but they blend with the farms and dwellings, made of wood and bamboo and playing mellow tunes and good vibes. Accomodation is as abundant and cheap as the Bob Marley tune slightly drifting through the air. We land a spot with sunset views and shared cold showers for around $5.
We mostly just chill out and relax here: hiring bikes and exploring the islands in the day is also a good call. There are 2 waterfalls on the big island (don Khet) but don’t be fooled into just visiting the one closest and easiest to find. It’s more elusive counterpart is grander and less touristy, and the rickety Indiana Jones style bridge across the river is worth the trip alone.
We also float a mile or so down the Mekong in a big rubber tyre. Not many people can say they’ve done that now can they!
In a nutshell Don Det is a sleepy little island where everything closes at 11, don’t come here to party, but if you want to see some real Lao people doing some real Lao stuff and you want some quiet time to recoup and relax, this is a must do spot. Maybe the best place in Asia for me, just a shame we have to rush off so fast! 2 days is not enough.
The scene on Det is as unusual as the landscape. People come here to chill, to recover after too many mad nights on the beach maybe: or more likely, after too many happy shakes in a row. There are bars, but they blend with the farms and dwellings, made of wood and bamboo and playing mellow tunes and good vibes. Accomodation is as abundant and cheap as the Bob Marley tune slightly drifting through the air. We land a spot with sunset views and shared cold showers for around $5.
We mostly just chill out and relax here: hiring bikes and exploring the islands in the day is also a good call. There are 2 waterfalls on the big island (don Khet) but don’t be fooled into just visiting the one closest and easiest to find. It’s more elusive counterpart is grander and less touristy, and the rickety Indiana Jones style bridge across the river is worth the trip alone.
We also float a mile or so down the Mekong in a big rubber tyre. Not many people can say they’ve done that now can they!
In a nutshell Don Det is a sleepy little island where everything closes at 11, don’t come here to party, but if you want to see some real Lao people doing some real Lao stuff and you want some quiet time to recoup and relax, this is a must do spot. Maybe the best place in Asia for me, just a shame we have to rush off so fast! 2 days is not enough.
Monday, 14 February 2011
Bus from Cambodia Siem Reap to Don Det 4000 islands via stung treng
The bus from Siem Reap to Don Det departed at 5am, this meant not much sleep and a rough day ahead – as we were supposed to arrive at 5pm the next day. Given the previous day’s food poisoning and tiredness I could have done with a good night sleep. However, alternatively, I opted to stay up til 2.30am watching United’s hideous capitulation at the hands of Wolves : so to say I wasn’t in a good mood would be to gloss it over in a velvety smooth fashion. I felt like absolute shit. Kath had slept more, but no one likes getting up at 5am, especially when the “free pick up” consist of a tuk-tuk in the freezing cold morning, loaded up with 4 backpackers, which, when you consider they each are carrying their entire life in a sack – doesn’t make for a comfortable ride.
At least we have the VIP bus - erm.... Yeah so much for that crap, the bus is like a 10 year old out of service magic bus with less legroom than a rayanair flight! We swallow a couple of diazepam (bought at any local drug-store no questions) but these don’t help us get to sleep – they just make us drowsy and confused. The bus trundles along picking up everyone and his dog along the way; something makes me think they didn’t pay 16 frickin’ quid for their tickets! Children climb on the seats and others sit in the aisles, and every 10 minutes it stops to let someone on or off. So much for the bus with air con and a toilet.
We eventually stop for a break and get some instant noodles down us in a rush (the corner stone of every nutritious breakfast) – we then set back off, only to instantaneously pick up a puncture which renders us motionless for nearly an hour. Great – we just so happen to be right next to a resteraunt where I could of got myself some proper bloody food, grrrr... It takes them ages to fix the wheel and we get back going again, eventually chaotically swapping (and leaving our jumpers and my hat behind) to a more luxurious (but then Lester’s chinqochento would’ve been luxurious in comparison) coach. This one comes complete with DVD player and sound system. Great I think – until they start blasting out Cambodian kung-fu movies at full whack: so much for reading your book or trying to snooze.
The trip is tiresome, slow and uncomfortable, as we trundle along sandy tracks and precarious bridges; but at least we’re not going as far as some people we talk to – the unluckiest of whom is an American called Jason, who we discover is going all the way through to Vientiane (about 1000 miles or 2 days on half built roads!). Suddenly at about 4pm we reach a desolate little place, like something out of an American horror movie – a gas station, some weird stalls and few sketchy looking guest houses. Welcome to Stung Treng.
Without us knowing what is going on our bags are thrown off the bus and we are told to change over, so we grab our shit and make a swift exit. Except when we get off the coach skids off into the distance leaving us, confused, asking the guide/translator, just what the hell is going on. Eventually after some heated exchanges the truth is extracted. Basically, the bus has fucked off, the border is closed and you all have to stay here for the night and that’s all there is to it. Needless to say – we’re pretty pissed off!
Luckily we get a dodgey room for just 4$ and stike up convos with the other stranded travellers. I decide to make the best of it and organise us all to get some drinks and food together. The view across the river is actually pretty good and as we chat spirits all rise! We eat in a local joint – purchasing from them a bottle of “muscle wine” – cambodias best known export supposedly. But then the bottle also claimed it was fortifying and energizing. Im pretty sure it wasn’t lucozade but at 3$ a bottle it helps make for a cheerier evening. Unfortunately though, the young girl waiting at out bar is a little stroppy cow wearing pajamas and a scowl. She pretends to not speak English, she pokes us and she rudely orders us around, the bizarre pinnacle of which comes when we are told abruptly, “SILENCE” and are glared at intently as if to say, we really frickin mean it! Don’t try me. we got some guns in the back and we’ll gladly use them. Not the friendliest place then and this is only 8pm.
The whole place seems ready for bed when we leave but were not 8 year olds so we intend to stay out til around 11!!! We sink more muscle wine and chill on the balcony of our deluxe pad, when we’re finished the gates are locked and everyone is asleep. WIERD PLACE – but it is actually the fun of travelling, having such random shit occur and still havin a good time.
The morning and same same. Waiting for hours for the replacement bus, which turns out to be a minibus and oh wait, 10 people and only 8 seats! I don’t like sitting on a French dudes knee, but this is basically what happens.
Luckily the border crossing Is ok, visa issues no seat, although out driver tried to charge 44$ for a service that is 36, plus and unavoidable extra dollar from each corrupt official who meets you. Oh well. That’s Asia for you, in India it would be 10$ so its not too bad.
We finally get a seat in the new mini bus and continue on to Don Det. Wow what a blag. 12 hours has somehow ended up being 35! But then when in Laos you need to accommodate for the time zone change! LOAS time is something special, each hour is actually 2!
We still aren’t at out island, oh no, that is another ride on a rickety boat across the Mekong! One more hour then, and 4 more dollars! But yes! At 1pm nearly a full day late we have arrived.
THANK GOD ITS WORTH IT – THE PLACE IS THE BEST!!!!
At least we have the VIP bus - erm.... Yeah so much for that crap, the bus is like a 10 year old out of service magic bus with less legroom than a rayanair flight! We swallow a couple of diazepam (bought at any local drug-store no questions) but these don’t help us get to sleep – they just make us drowsy and confused. The bus trundles along picking up everyone and his dog along the way; something makes me think they didn’t pay 16 frickin’ quid for their tickets! Children climb on the seats and others sit in the aisles, and every 10 minutes it stops to let someone on or off. So much for the bus with air con and a toilet.
We eventually stop for a break and get some instant noodles down us in a rush (the corner stone of every nutritious breakfast) – we then set back off, only to instantaneously pick up a puncture which renders us motionless for nearly an hour. Great – we just so happen to be right next to a resteraunt where I could of got myself some proper bloody food, grrrr... It takes them ages to fix the wheel and we get back going again, eventually chaotically swapping (and leaving our jumpers and my hat behind) to a more luxurious (but then Lester’s chinqochento would’ve been luxurious in comparison) coach. This one comes complete with DVD player and sound system. Great I think – until they start blasting out Cambodian kung-fu movies at full whack: so much for reading your book or trying to snooze.
The trip is tiresome, slow and uncomfortable, as we trundle along sandy tracks and precarious bridges; but at least we’re not going as far as some people we talk to – the unluckiest of whom is an American called Jason, who we discover is going all the way through to Vientiane (about 1000 miles or 2 days on half built roads!). Suddenly at about 4pm we reach a desolate little place, like something out of an American horror movie – a gas station, some weird stalls and few sketchy looking guest houses. Welcome to Stung Treng.
Without us knowing what is going on our bags are thrown off the bus and we are told to change over, so we grab our shit and make a swift exit. Except when we get off the coach skids off into the distance leaving us, confused, asking the guide/translator, just what the hell is going on. Eventually after some heated exchanges the truth is extracted. Basically, the bus has fucked off, the border is closed and you all have to stay here for the night and that’s all there is to it. Needless to say – we’re pretty pissed off!
Luckily we get a dodgey room for just 4$ and stike up convos with the other stranded travellers. I decide to make the best of it and organise us all to get some drinks and food together. The view across the river is actually pretty good and as we chat spirits all rise! We eat in a local joint – purchasing from them a bottle of “muscle wine” – cambodias best known export supposedly. But then the bottle also claimed it was fortifying and energizing. Im pretty sure it wasn’t lucozade but at 3$ a bottle it helps make for a cheerier evening. Unfortunately though, the young girl waiting at out bar is a little stroppy cow wearing pajamas and a scowl. She pretends to not speak English, she pokes us and she rudely orders us around, the bizarre pinnacle of which comes when we are told abruptly, “SILENCE” and are glared at intently as if to say, we really frickin mean it! Don’t try me. we got some guns in the back and we’ll gladly use them. Not the friendliest place then and this is only 8pm.
The whole place seems ready for bed when we leave but were not 8 year olds so we intend to stay out til around 11!!! We sink more muscle wine and chill on the balcony of our deluxe pad, when we’re finished the gates are locked and everyone is asleep. WIERD PLACE – but it is actually the fun of travelling, having such random shit occur and still havin a good time.
The morning and same same. Waiting for hours for the replacement bus, which turns out to be a minibus and oh wait, 10 people and only 8 seats! I don’t like sitting on a French dudes knee, but this is basically what happens.
Luckily the border crossing Is ok, visa issues no seat, although out driver tried to charge 44$ for a service that is 36, plus and unavoidable extra dollar from each corrupt official who meets you. Oh well. That’s Asia for you, in India it would be 10$ so its not too bad.
We finally get a seat in the new mini bus and continue on to Don Det. Wow what a blag. 12 hours has somehow ended up being 35! But then when in Laos you need to accommodate for the time zone change! LOAS time is something special, each hour is actually 2!
We still aren’t at out island, oh no, that is another ride on a rickety boat across the Mekong! One more hour then, and 4 more dollars! But yes! At 1pm nearly a full day late we have arrived.
THANK GOD ITS WORTH IT – THE PLACE IS THE BEST!!!!
Angkor Wat - Cambodia - Siem Reap
Angkor Wat
The night bus from shianokville to Siem Reap is poorly constructed, to say the least. The beds consist of 2 seats strapped together – no sheets, blankets or any other such luxury. The top bunks are supported by a haphazard frame that looks welded together by Edward scissors hands, and every time the bus moves the whole thing squeaks like a metal framed bed in a Texas motel. We get the best (sarcasm) seat on the bus – right above the wheels on the bottom deck just to accentuate the claustrophobia. Kath’s face is right next to a hole that pumps in noxious gasses right into her lungs. Luckily when we stop I demand we move, but I feel sorry for the unfortunate Cambodians who are given our spot.
The new seats rock and sway even more with the motion of the bus and all in all it is a pretty horrendous journey.
So we arrive too early for a hotel room (6am) and crash in the hotels waiting room for a while. Eventually we get 2 hours sleep and head out to the temples via tuk-tuk. The first impressions of Siam Reap are impressive, I like the place’s character and authenticity, it feels like final we see some of the real Cambodia.
Angkor Wat itself is one temple among a complex of amazing structures that span over a vast area and provide an insatiable feast for the eyes and the min: as one ponders how such a thing could have been built so many years ago. Unfortunately it soon becomes apparent that I am suffering from some kind of illness – Initially I think sun stroke, but as the visits to the toilet add up it soon becomes obvious it is another bout of food poisoning! DONT EAT THE BBQ FISH!!! No matter how clean and westernised the resteraunt.
I manage to walk around the vast complexes but often must pause for breath and relax: this is what it must feel like for those massively obese Americans that pant walking up stairs! Not the best state to be in when viewing “the eighth wonder of the world”! Still the place is inspirational, don’t get me wrong!
The most impressive thing about the place is the size. The second most impressive thing is the age. We’re talking over 1000 years old and on a scale like the pyramids, 20 or so temples over 50 miles squared. It’s majorly monumental and gargantuan epic stuff. The temple at Bayon is an amazing myriad of large smiling faces, all greeting you with their happy and bubbling features. The level of detail is insane – with each inlay picturing a beautiful scene from the past.
The temple complex that I found most awe-inspiring was the one that is overrun by nature. Wise grey trees sprout immovably from the ancient stone – seemingly drawing all the nutrients they need from the spiritual energy of the monuments themselves. Roots literally delve into 10 feet high platforms of solid rock as sloping trees cling to the structure. How it all stays together is a miracle itself!
In the evening we explore the Angkor Wat temple, just in time to witness its incandescent orange hue in the sunset. The sight defies description, it’s size and magnificence simply leaving one breathless.
I wish I could say more but ill and tired I didn’t quite get the best of our day at the temples, but none the less it was an impressive sight and something that will hang in the memory for many years to come.
I stay up most the night on the toilet and needless to say feel like crap in the morning. Due to this the day is mediocre to say the least – the highlight being some BBQ snake and Crocodile in the evening when I finally feel better. Snake is chewy but very flavoursome, crocodile though is up there with veal as my favourite meat! I recommend it to anyone lucky enough to try it!
The night bus from shianokville to Siem Reap is poorly constructed, to say the least. The beds consist of 2 seats strapped together – no sheets, blankets or any other such luxury. The top bunks are supported by a haphazard frame that looks welded together by Edward scissors hands, and every time the bus moves the whole thing squeaks like a metal framed bed in a Texas motel. We get the best (sarcasm) seat on the bus – right above the wheels on the bottom deck just to accentuate the claustrophobia. Kath’s face is right next to a hole that pumps in noxious gasses right into her lungs. Luckily when we stop I demand we move, but I feel sorry for the unfortunate Cambodians who are given our spot.
The new seats rock and sway even more with the motion of the bus and all in all it is a pretty horrendous journey.
So we arrive too early for a hotel room (6am) and crash in the hotels waiting room for a while. Eventually we get 2 hours sleep and head out to the temples via tuk-tuk. The first impressions of Siam Reap are impressive, I like the place’s character and authenticity, it feels like final we see some of the real Cambodia.
Angkor Wat itself is one temple among a complex of amazing structures that span over a vast area and provide an insatiable feast for the eyes and the min: as one ponders how such a thing could have been built so many years ago. Unfortunately it soon becomes apparent that I am suffering from some kind of illness – Initially I think sun stroke, but as the visits to the toilet add up it soon becomes obvious it is another bout of food poisoning! DONT EAT THE BBQ FISH!!! No matter how clean and westernised the resteraunt.
I manage to walk around the vast complexes but often must pause for breath and relax: this is what it must feel like for those massively obese Americans that pant walking up stairs! Not the best state to be in when viewing “the eighth wonder of the world”! Still the place is inspirational, don’t get me wrong!
The most impressive thing about the place is the size. The second most impressive thing is the age. We’re talking over 1000 years old and on a scale like the pyramids, 20 or so temples over 50 miles squared. It’s majorly monumental and gargantuan epic stuff. The temple at Bayon is an amazing myriad of large smiling faces, all greeting you with their happy and bubbling features. The level of detail is insane – with each inlay picturing a beautiful scene from the past.
The temple complex that I found most awe-inspiring was the one that is overrun by nature. Wise grey trees sprout immovably from the ancient stone – seemingly drawing all the nutrients they need from the spiritual energy of the monuments themselves. Roots literally delve into 10 feet high platforms of solid rock as sloping trees cling to the structure. How it all stays together is a miracle itself!
In the evening we explore the Angkor Wat temple, just in time to witness its incandescent orange hue in the sunset. The sight defies description, it’s size and magnificence simply leaving one breathless.
I wish I could say more but ill and tired I didn’t quite get the best of our day at the temples, but none the less it was an impressive sight and something that will hang in the memory for many years to come.
I stay up most the night on the toilet and needless to say feel like crap in the morning. Due to this the day is mediocre to say the least – the highlight being some BBQ snake and Crocodile in the evening when I finally feel better. Snake is chewy but very flavoursome, crocodile though is up there with veal as my favourite meat! I recommend it to anyone lucky enough to try it!
Wednesday, 9 February 2011
Disaster strikes!!
THE DAY BEFORE WE GO TO ANGKOR WAT - THE CAMERA BREAKS!!!!!!
BOLLOCKS
no pictures now til we get to somewhere we can buy a new one.
BOLLOCKS
no pictures now til we get to somewhere we can buy a new one.
Shianokville
Shianokville – evening of 28th until 3rd February.
It’s EASY to get lost in this little beach resort on the southernmost tip of Cambodia’s coastline. Many people we spoke to had been marooned there on route to other places, and it’s easy to see why. The place is a perfect combo of a relaxed vibe, slow pace and plenty of nightlife. Throw this in with infinite stretches of beautiful white sand and cheap as chips beer and accommodation – and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out the appeal.
For us 4 days some morphed into six, and even then it took a real push to haul my arse off the sunny shores. After months of hectic motion, never in one place for more than a couple of days, it was blissful and serene to be stationary in this beautiful place.
The days, understandably, blurred from one to the other. Many a lazy hour shifting into the next as we rejoiced in some time to relax, read, and for Kath, soaking up the sun. The sun being my mortal nemesis, I took refuge in shaded comfy chairs, while I overlooked the fishing boats coming and going from the local pier.
The main area of serendipity beach comprises of endless bars dotted with sun loungers and basket wicker chairs for sumptuous relaxation. On the horizon you can see green islands teeming with vegetation and an endless blurring of blue, where sky and sea meet. The road behind the beach houses many complexes of inexpensive bungalows and some more upmarket hotels; but it is clear that development has yet to take a real stranglehold, and this adds to the chilled out character of the place.
We spent many days doing not too much at all, but I’ll detail some of the highlights below.
There is a fantastically illegal cinema in the town called “topcat cinema”. This place is a true revelation of laidback entrepreneurialism. The concept is simple: a big screen showing downloaded movies, really comfy sofas annd chairs, a stack of munchies and a fridge full of beers to help yourself to. The trustful owner then asks, upon your exit, what it is you had and on your honour charges accordingly. He also doesn’t mind me bringing in a nice bottle of wine, and for others that way inclined he doesn’t mind them blazing up a few spliffs as well. We catch Mr. Nice – not the best film ever but entertaining none the less.
We meet a couple of dudes called James and Dane while watching Murray getting his usual roasting in the tennis. The match is shit to watch but we get on with the guys and later hang out in the hip place to be “monkey republic”. The bar blasts out conventional indie hits and pop classics, but probably boasts the best playlist and atmosphere going. We have a good laugh and later make a mad night out at the only really lively bar called JJs. The bar is a slightly precarious wade across the rocks to get to but once inside it is a hub of activity. Pretty much everyone is blasted and some strange aussies have us doing press ups on the floor for unknown reasons. It turns out to be a messy but good night, with plenty of chaotic jumping around to pendulum and other such mainstream tunes. The Djs are pretty shite, dropping the same tunes more than 3 times – but I don’t think they understand the concept of a “set. This still doesn’t distract from the fun though, and it is obviously the place to be after midnight.
Food wise, the done thing is BBQ on the beach . this comprises a selection of 3 meats (pork, chicken , beef, fish, prawn etc.) with salad and chips, rice or jacket spud. It isn’t the most authentic but it’s pretty good value, although once again it reeks havoc with my digestion. STAY AWAY FROM FISH BBQ!! A good tip from Jonny was a local woman’s place called rosie’s, where a little lady serves up portions fit for an army, the fish and chips were particularly beasting!
Aside from chilling drinking juice and fresh coconuts (a whole coconut chopped up full off nourishing water) – we drink lots of beer at 50c (30p) a glass, and subsequently by the end are a little worse for wear.
We don’t venture much from the beach except from a mediocre island tour and a day of motor biking around. The islands themselves were worth the visit, with some beautiful tranquil beaches and a fantastic range of luscious palms and trees. However, the boat that gets us there is designed for 5 and carrying 20, one of whom is a bloke who weighs at least 25 stone. Hysterically, on several occasions, as he gets up, the whole boat nearly subsides as his humungous bulk tips the balance completely. The ponderous engine looks as if it was recovered from the ocean bed, covered in rust and completely exposed for all to see as it spewed out viscous oil and a cacophony of sound. We did get to do some snorkelling, but the equipment was about as much use as a diet pill on a fat yank, so all we got were mouths full of salty water and the occasional glimpse of grey coral and a tiny fish. Still sitting at the bar having a beer – 20 miles from civilization was pretty special and by the end of the day it was worthwhile.
We scootered our way to victory beach on the otherside of the coast, and enjoyed a more chilled out vibe – similar to Goa. We also ventured off road down the dodgey bumpy trails to the secluded and desert shores way beyond the resorts. This was great for a little relaxation, although I was sweating a bit when I bumped the bike on a massive pot hole and it started making some dodgey rattling noises on the way back. Luckily I took back without them checking (as usual) and made off with my passport before they could catch me! Stupidly I left my shades on the bike so returned to grab them, only to see some fatty rattling along about to take it out – I quickly reached over and grabbed my shade, shook his hand and legged it. God knows how I got a away without retribution!
There is a lot more I could say about the place, but also a lot less, all in all it was a perfect blend of fun and frolics and relaxation. I definitely recommend a stay here for anyone; just make sure you set aside enough time, because invariably people don’t want to leave!
It’s EASY to get lost in this little beach resort on the southernmost tip of Cambodia’s coastline. Many people we spoke to had been marooned there on route to other places, and it’s easy to see why. The place is a perfect combo of a relaxed vibe, slow pace and plenty of nightlife. Throw this in with infinite stretches of beautiful white sand and cheap as chips beer and accommodation – and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out the appeal.
For us 4 days some morphed into six, and even then it took a real push to haul my arse off the sunny shores. After months of hectic motion, never in one place for more than a couple of days, it was blissful and serene to be stationary in this beautiful place.
The days, understandably, blurred from one to the other. Many a lazy hour shifting into the next as we rejoiced in some time to relax, read, and for Kath, soaking up the sun. The sun being my mortal nemesis, I took refuge in shaded comfy chairs, while I overlooked the fishing boats coming and going from the local pier.
The main area of serendipity beach comprises of endless bars dotted with sun loungers and basket wicker chairs for sumptuous relaxation. On the horizon you can see green islands teeming with vegetation and an endless blurring of blue, where sky and sea meet. The road behind the beach houses many complexes of inexpensive bungalows and some more upmarket hotels; but it is clear that development has yet to take a real stranglehold, and this adds to the chilled out character of the place.
We spent many days doing not too much at all, but I’ll detail some of the highlights below.
There is a fantastically illegal cinema in the town called “topcat cinema”. This place is a true revelation of laidback entrepreneurialism. The concept is simple: a big screen showing downloaded movies, really comfy sofas annd chairs, a stack of munchies and a fridge full of beers to help yourself to. The trustful owner then asks, upon your exit, what it is you had and on your honour charges accordingly. He also doesn’t mind me bringing in a nice bottle of wine, and for others that way inclined he doesn’t mind them blazing up a few spliffs as well. We catch Mr. Nice – not the best film ever but entertaining none the less.
We meet a couple of dudes called James and Dane while watching Murray getting his usual roasting in the tennis. The match is shit to watch but we get on with the guys and later hang out in the hip place to be “monkey republic”. The bar blasts out conventional indie hits and pop classics, but probably boasts the best playlist and atmosphere going. We have a good laugh and later make a mad night out at the only really lively bar called JJs. The bar is a slightly precarious wade across the rocks to get to but once inside it is a hub of activity. Pretty much everyone is blasted and some strange aussies have us doing press ups on the floor for unknown reasons. It turns out to be a messy but good night, with plenty of chaotic jumping around to pendulum and other such mainstream tunes. The Djs are pretty shite, dropping the same tunes more than 3 times – but I don’t think they understand the concept of a “set. This still doesn’t distract from the fun though, and it is obviously the place to be after midnight.
Food wise, the done thing is BBQ on the beach . this comprises a selection of 3 meats (pork, chicken , beef, fish, prawn etc.) with salad and chips, rice or jacket spud. It isn’t the most authentic but it’s pretty good value, although once again it reeks havoc with my digestion. STAY AWAY FROM FISH BBQ!! A good tip from Jonny was a local woman’s place called rosie’s, where a little lady serves up portions fit for an army, the fish and chips were particularly beasting!
Aside from chilling drinking juice and fresh coconuts (a whole coconut chopped up full off nourishing water) – we drink lots of beer at 50c (30p) a glass, and subsequently by the end are a little worse for wear.
We don’t venture much from the beach except from a mediocre island tour and a day of motor biking around. The islands themselves were worth the visit, with some beautiful tranquil beaches and a fantastic range of luscious palms and trees. However, the boat that gets us there is designed for 5 and carrying 20, one of whom is a bloke who weighs at least 25 stone. Hysterically, on several occasions, as he gets up, the whole boat nearly subsides as his humungous bulk tips the balance completely. The ponderous engine looks as if it was recovered from the ocean bed, covered in rust and completely exposed for all to see as it spewed out viscous oil and a cacophony of sound. We did get to do some snorkelling, but the equipment was about as much use as a diet pill on a fat yank, so all we got were mouths full of salty water and the occasional glimpse of grey coral and a tiny fish. Still sitting at the bar having a beer – 20 miles from civilization was pretty special and by the end of the day it was worthwhile.
We scootered our way to victory beach on the otherside of the coast, and enjoyed a more chilled out vibe – similar to Goa. We also ventured off road down the dodgey bumpy trails to the secluded and desert shores way beyond the resorts. This was great for a little relaxation, although I was sweating a bit when I bumped the bike on a massive pot hole and it started making some dodgey rattling noises on the way back. Luckily I took back without them checking (as usual) and made off with my passport before they could catch me! Stupidly I left my shades on the bike so returned to grab them, only to see some fatty rattling along about to take it out – I quickly reached over and grabbed my shade, shook his hand and legged it. God knows how I got a away without retribution!
There is a lot more I could say about the place, but also a lot less, all in all it was a perfect blend of fun and frolics and relaxation. I definitely recommend a stay here for anyone; just make sure you set aside enough time, because invariably people don’t want to leave!
Saturday, 5 February 2011
The Dentist
The dentist!
Literally 3 days before we set off on our travels one of my back teeth fell apart, leaving a massive hole that kept getting plugged full of food and other such crap. I was originally going to get it seen to sooner, but after seeing the conditions in India I was suspicious as to the quality of the treatment. Since then I have been waiting for the right place, where they speak English but the price isn’t too high. This has been hard to find, but finally – at Smile in Cambodia I found a place that fitted the bill.
Initially I was worried that the supposed credentials (Harvard MSC etc etc) were made up and I was going to be butchered like the victim in some Alfred Hitchcock film; by some anti-western hack with a saw blade. However, I was soon relaxed when I saw the amazingly large and clean room and heard the dentists reassuring calm voice, which was easier to understand than most UK doctors and dentists.
He tipped me back and examined the area, explaining it was a very big hole but he would try his best. He then poked me with something and asked if it hurt to which I replied no. He therefore said he would go ahead drilling without anaesthetic! And I should tell him if I felt anything, which I reassured him I would (probably by screaming and swearing at him to stop). He drilled away for what seemed like an eternity while I had the nurse sucking away my spittle as I frantically salivated and gulped back air. I kept waiting for the pain as the smell of burning bone filled my nostrils, but it never came! Meticulously he carved away at my tooth for maybe 20 minutes, until he finally was done. He then informed me he was about to make the filling and asked if composite was ok. In England it costs about £100 for a white filling done by and dodgey NHS practitioner and here I was being told a white filling was my only option. He painstakingly ensured it was perfectly fitted and level, using a vast array of shiny tools I have never seen before back at my last dentists in Salford. Then there it was, done, a perfect shiny white filling and no pain: how much you ask? £16!! About the same as it costs for a check up in England. Next time I need some treatment I’m coming to Cambodia – but maybe I’ll ask for some anaesthetic next time!
Literally 3 days before we set off on our travels one of my back teeth fell apart, leaving a massive hole that kept getting plugged full of food and other such crap. I was originally going to get it seen to sooner, but after seeing the conditions in India I was suspicious as to the quality of the treatment. Since then I have been waiting for the right place, where they speak English but the price isn’t too high. This has been hard to find, but finally – at Smile in Cambodia I found a place that fitted the bill.
Initially I was worried that the supposed credentials (Harvard MSC etc etc) were made up and I was going to be butchered like the victim in some Alfred Hitchcock film; by some anti-western hack with a saw blade. However, I was soon relaxed when I saw the amazingly large and clean room and heard the dentists reassuring calm voice, which was easier to understand than most UK doctors and dentists.
He tipped me back and examined the area, explaining it was a very big hole but he would try his best. He then poked me with something and asked if it hurt to which I replied no. He therefore said he would go ahead drilling without anaesthetic! And I should tell him if I felt anything, which I reassured him I would (probably by screaming and swearing at him to stop). He drilled away for what seemed like an eternity while I had the nurse sucking away my spittle as I frantically salivated and gulped back air. I kept waiting for the pain as the smell of burning bone filled my nostrils, but it never came! Meticulously he carved away at my tooth for maybe 20 minutes, until he finally was done. He then informed me he was about to make the filling and asked if composite was ok. In England it costs about £100 for a white filling done by and dodgey NHS practitioner and here I was being told a white filling was my only option. He painstakingly ensured it was perfectly fitted and level, using a vast array of shiny tools I have never seen before back at my last dentists in Salford. Then there it was, done, a perfect shiny white filling and no pain: how much you ask? £16!! About the same as it costs for a check up in England. Next time I need some treatment I’m coming to Cambodia – but maybe I’ll ask for some anaesthetic next time!
27-28th
27th 28th
We spend the day recovering from the shell shock of no longer having a five star hotel, checking in to the ok hotel for £4 a night! We deliberately make sure the tuk-tuk guys don’t know were staying at the posh hotel as they try to triple the fare, it would’ve been funny to see their faces if we told them where we were going!
The rest of the day is spent chilling down by the riverside – followed by an early night. The best thing we do is get some buy one get on free cocktails at an amazing rooftop bar – overlooking the water. Funnily as always I end up with the girly pink cocktail and Kath gets the really strong manly one!
Not much else to report until the morning when I have myself booked in for a dentists appointment. Then we get the uncomfortable bus to Shainokville departing at 1pm.
We spend the day recovering from the shell shock of no longer having a five star hotel, checking in to the ok hotel for £4 a night! We deliberately make sure the tuk-tuk guys don’t know were staying at the posh hotel as they try to triple the fare, it would’ve been funny to see their faces if we told them where we were going!
The rest of the day is spent chilling down by the riverside – followed by an early night. The best thing we do is get some buy one get on free cocktails at an amazing rooftop bar – overlooking the water. Funnily as always I end up with the girly pink cocktail and Kath gets the really strong manly one!
Not much else to report until the morning when I have myself booked in for a dentists appointment. Then we get the uncomfortable bus to Shainokville departing at 1pm.
26th - Finally a Decent Hotel!
For our 3 year anniversary I decided to push the boat out and enjoy some luxury – after weeks of staying in the cheapest digs available we we’re getting dirty and tired out – so I think it was well deserved. For the price of a shitty Travelodge back home I managed to book into the four star boutique-spa-hotel called villa paradise and believe me, it lived up to its title; luscious tropical gardens surround the swimming pool, complete with Jacuzzi, steam room and in house massage and aromatherapy. Our room had a massive king size bed with a comfortingly soft mattress (something that seems to be reserved for the upper classes round here) and full air con to bring us to a good temperature for the first time since we arrived in Cambodia. We also had a flat screen TV with built in media player and a selection of films and documentaries (of which we watched an informative piece explaining the country’s turbulent history) but even better (according to Kath) was the hairdryer and luxuriously hot water in the shower.
We spent much time relaxing by the pool and making use of the Jacuzzi and sauna in the afternoon and also the following morning, it is a real treat to laze about doing nothing for a change. In the evening of the 26th we visited some bars that we would usually never dare to go to, even going so far as to order red wine and cocktails from the menu (shock horror – I am usually too tight to order anything but the cheapest local beers, even when Heineken is only 20p extra): it was refreshing to have a change, even though I do love the Angkor beer! We had lunch by the riverside in an awesome Mexican restaurant where a massive band were cramped into the balcony in a very comedic fashion – more exciting than this though was the Mexican hot sauce which made my beef fajitas absolutely banging and even more exciting was the Chilean merlot which was probably mediocre shite, but after 8 weeks without wine it had me purring like a cat.
We enjoyed some pampering with a fish spa and massage on the riverfront, which actually was pretty damn cheap anyway, it’s really worth going in for this stuff in Cambodia as massage can be as cheap as $4 per hour. The fish spa was a good laugh as you plunge your dirty feet into a tank full of hungry fishes to have the dry skin eaten away. My feet aren’t so ticklish, so I was ok, but Kath was giggling like a school girl for a long time before she got used to the feeling. There was a small fish tank and big fish tank – Kath opting for the small and me the other. The small fish felt gentle and tickly against you skin whereas some of the big ones were tearing chunks out of my heels- it was crazy – but afterwards my feet didn’t smell like a fat yanks armpit anymore and they also felt smooth and clean. Well worth a go in my opinion and especially good for £2 including a beer!
We finished up with some nice Khmer dinner (frogs legs for me and chicken for Kath) and headed back to the hotel for relaxation. The next morning we took full advantage of the free breakfast, which included some of the nicest fried eggs I’ve ever had, especially enjoying the unlimited free orange juice and coffee. After this we lounged a while by the pool and lived it up in the steam room and Jacuzzi, feeling like Wayne Rooney and Colene (no offence Kath) as we soaked up the sun while getting blasted by 100 different massaging jets.
We are sad to leave the place and go back to normality; I can see why the rich and famous get used to this kind of stuff.
We spent much time relaxing by the pool and making use of the Jacuzzi and sauna in the afternoon and also the following morning, it is a real treat to laze about doing nothing for a change. In the evening of the 26th we visited some bars that we would usually never dare to go to, even going so far as to order red wine and cocktails from the menu (shock horror – I am usually too tight to order anything but the cheapest local beers, even when Heineken is only 20p extra): it was refreshing to have a change, even though I do love the Angkor beer! We had lunch by the riverside in an awesome Mexican restaurant where a massive band were cramped into the balcony in a very comedic fashion – more exciting than this though was the Mexican hot sauce which made my beef fajitas absolutely banging and even more exciting was the Chilean merlot which was probably mediocre shite, but after 8 weeks without wine it had me purring like a cat.
We enjoyed some pampering with a fish spa and massage on the riverfront, which actually was pretty damn cheap anyway, it’s really worth going in for this stuff in Cambodia as massage can be as cheap as $4 per hour. The fish spa was a good laugh as you plunge your dirty feet into a tank full of hungry fishes to have the dry skin eaten away. My feet aren’t so ticklish, so I was ok, but Kath was giggling like a school girl for a long time before she got used to the feeling. There was a small fish tank and big fish tank – Kath opting for the small and me the other. The small fish felt gentle and tickly against you skin whereas some of the big ones were tearing chunks out of my heels- it was crazy – but afterwards my feet didn’t smell like a fat yanks armpit anymore and they also felt smooth and clean. Well worth a go in my opinion and especially good for £2 including a beer!
We finished up with some nice Khmer dinner (frogs legs for me and chicken for Kath) and headed back to the hotel for relaxation. The next morning we took full advantage of the free breakfast, which included some of the nicest fried eggs I’ve ever had, especially enjoying the unlimited free orange juice and coffee. After this we lounged a while by the pool and lived it up in the steam room and Jacuzzi, feeling like Wayne Rooney and Colene (no offence Kath) as we soaked up the sun while getting blasted by 100 different massaging jets.
We are sad to leave the place and go back to normality; I can see why the rich and famous get used to this kind of stuff.
Thursday, 3 February 2011
25th - the killing fields
We wake up nursing a bit of a hangover from the night before, but soon get on track after a heary breakfast – mine consisting of a gigantic omelette, sausage and bacon – stuffed into a footlong baguette. We have arranged to meet our driver at 11, hence a lack of sleep, but we soon wake-up with the hot wind rushing into our faces. We have a sombre sight-seeing day ahead, comprising firstly of the “killing fields”, where the Khmer rouge callously murdered 1000’s of “revolutionaries” and secondly the prison where these people where barbarically detained and hideously tortured. If you don’t know the history of Cambodia (I won’t describe it all here) it has had a turbulent and torrid time. Dragged into the Indo-China war at the wrong time, bombed with wanton disregard for life by the Americans and then, economically crippled, left to the devices of various militant regimes. Of these, the Khmer Rouge inflicted the most harm, implementing a plan to create real hammer and sickle communism by disbanding the cities and creating a wholly agrarian society. Anyone who wasn’t complicit was branded as a revolutionary, tortured and more than often executed.
The killing fields themselves are an interesting 45 minute ride out of town. The site is an unfittingly beautiful garden, nestling among farmland and trees; it is almost impossible to imagine the inhuman reality of what occurred on this now quiet land. As you read the blunt notices “this was where prisoners were kept for up to 24 hours awaiting execution” you cannot help but detach yourself from reality, as school children shout “hello, how are you” from behind the fences. If only the trees could speak, the solemnity and horror of what we would be told could make the most iron-stomached sadist wretch – as we learn that to save bullets the prisoners were usually beaten to death. At the centre of the place lies the ultimate monument to the departed – a beautifully crafted oriental tower, within which are housed, to hit home the brutal truth, the fractured skulls of the many victims.
The prison is not so deceptive in it’s appearance. A modern school made of concrete; it stands as it was in its hay-day, grim and solemn, almost untouched by the passage of time. The alarming thing is how not-old it all looks; giving a harrowing reminder of how recently these terrible events occurred. The rooms themselves are bare and unadorned, except for gruesome pictures which show the state of the final victims who were found, disfigured, tied to the beds upon the prison’s liberation. Barbed wire still engulfs some of the buildings, a caption reads, ‘barbed wire was placed to ensure prisoners could not jump and commit suicide’. My mouth goes dry and I feel uneasy, observing blood stains and bullet holes on the walls.
Endless rows of mug-shots show the wretchedly defeated victims, their solemn expressions representative of an acknowledgement of their pending fate. I looked each on in the eye and felt compassion and disgust for what happened here. Where were we to help these people? Nowhere is the answer, as I learn that the west backed the Khmer Rouge with funding and weapons when they were overthrown in a military Coup.
Anyway enough of that grim stuff – you gotta’ take it in but try and put it to the back of your mind or else you’ll go mad.
Therefore, despite the sombre days entertainment, we take solace in each-other’s company and ease the stress with a few beers. Jonny comes down to our neck of the woods and we meet some Swedes and have a good laugh, ultimately staying on it – once again to the early hours. I just about save face and beat a girl called Freda at pool, although John-Boy ultimately gives me a good roasting.
By the end of the night we are pretty sloshed and I have to reason with the taxi guy to make sure he gets Jonny home safely. We are sad to part company and to have only been able to meet so briefly. It has tough been a great couple of days, with some sobering reality and some brilliant fun. I wish more of our friends could be here; as there is so much experience to share and enjoy. One day we will all get on it together but until then this blog will have to do!
We miss you guys!!!!!
Peace out!
The killing fields themselves are an interesting 45 minute ride out of town. The site is an unfittingly beautiful garden, nestling among farmland and trees; it is almost impossible to imagine the inhuman reality of what occurred on this now quiet land. As you read the blunt notices “this was where prisoners were kept for up to 24 hours awaiting execution” you cannot help but detach yourself from reality, as school children shout “hello, how are you” from behind the fences. If only the trees could speak, the solemnity and horror of what we would be told could make the most iron-stomached sadist wretch – as we learn that to save bullets the prisoners were usually beaten to death. At the centre of the place lies the ultimate monument to the departed – a beautifully crafted oriental tower, within which are housed, to hit home the brutal truth, the fractured skulls of the many victims.
The prison is not so deceptive in it’s appearance. A modern school made of concrete; it stands as it was in its hay-day, grim and solemn, almost untouched by the passage of time. The alarming thing is how not-old it all looks; giving a harrowing reminder of how recently these terrible events occurred. The rooms themselves are bare and unadorned, except for gruesome pictures which show the state of the final victims who were found, disfigured, tied to the beds upon the prison’s liberation. Barbed wire still engulfs some of the buildings, a caption reads, ‘barbed wire was placed to ensure prisoners could not jump and commit suicide’. My mouth goes dry and I feel uneasy, observing blood stains and bullet holes on the walls.
Endless rows of mug-shots show the wretchedly defeated victims, their solemn expressions representative of an acknowledgement of their pending fate. I looked each on in the eye and felt compassion and disgust for what happened here. Where were we to help these people? Nowhere is the answer, as I learn that the west backed the Khmer Rouge with funding and weapons when they were overthrown in a military Coup.
Anyway enough of that grim stuff – you gotta’ take it in but try and put it to the back of your mind or else you’ll go mad.
Therefore, despite the sombre days entertainment, we take solace in each-other’s company and ease the stress with a few beers. Jonny comes down to our neck of the woods and we meet some Swedes and have a good laugh, ultimately staying on it – once again to the early hours. I just about save face and beat a girl called Freda at pool, although John-Boy ultimately gives me a good roasting.
By the end of the night we are pretty sloshed and I have to reason with the taxi guy to make sure he gets Jonny home safely. We are sad to part company and to have only been able to meet so briefly. It has tough been a great couple of days, with some sobering reality and some brilliant fun. I wish more of our friends could be here; as there is so much experience to share and enjoy. One day we will all get on it together but until then this blog will have to do!
We miss you guys!!!!!
Peace out!
Tuesday, 1 February 2011
24th
24th
The city itself is surprisingly small in comparison with the mega-cities we have seen before and exhibits much more order and organisation than I expected. The architecture is a mixture of oriental palaces and European style boulevards with more authentic markets and makeshift houses, often down the back alleys and less prominent areas. You can actually cross the roads without fear of death, which is something we haven’t experienced for a very long time. The city is relaxing compared to the other places we have been and although very touristy, it appears more popular amongst older holiday-makers.
We don’t do much in the day as I take time to plan out some things for our anniversary and also the route for the next few days. Luckily Kath catches Jonny online and we make plans to meet at 3.30.
We meet up and it is great to be back in touch with a friend, someone you can really relate to and understand on a deep level, rather than all those superficial encounters that you regularly have. We spend a long time chatting over lunch, then head to the palace, but the tickets are $6 so we sack it off. We end up instead heading to the riverfront area for more beers and catching up. We enjoy cheap happy hour beers as little kids (who speak better English than anyone that age in England) repeatedly harass us to buy shit we don’t want: they start off nice but soon get cheeky when rejected, one outrageously suggesting he will die if I don’t give him some-money (something hard to believe when the cheeky shit has brand named clothes that are much fresher than yours!).
It sounds as if Jonny has had a very different, but pretty fun experience so far: and we enjoy hearing stories of crazy nights out and drunken shenanigans. The night quickly goes by and we begin to stack up the beers, getting on the jugs (approx 6 glasses) with our Cambodian meals. The waiter at the place suspiciously doesn’t write down our orders, which I find a bit worrying; however I hesitate to say anything for fear of causing offence. I realise this was a bad move when I receive some kind of fried noodle instead of what I asked for and the chef has to completely retake the order – not that were too arsed as we’re having a wicked time anyway.
We end up buying a bottle of solichnaya vodka ($7) and heading back to his hostel for a session. We chat away into the wee hours, making vile drinks with our cheap knock off Cambodian Fanta – and all in all it is a wicked night. We’re too knackered and drunk to get back home, so we all pile into the double bed and wake up together the next day (not feeling quite so refreshed as we’d like).
The city itself is surprisingly small in comparison with the mega-cities we have seen before and exhibits much more order and organisation than I expected. The architecture is a mixture of oriental palaces and European style boulevards with more authentic markets and makeshift houses, often down the back alleys and less prominent areas. You can actually cross the roads without fear of death, which is something we haven’t experienced for a very long time. The city is relaxing compared to the other places we have been and although very touristy, it appears more popular amongst older holiday-makers.
We don’t do much in the day as I take time to plan out some things for our anniversary and also the route for the next few days. Luckily Kath catches Jonny online and we make plans to meet at 3.30.
We meet up and it is great to be back in touch with a friend, someone you can really relate to and understand on a deep level, rather than all those superficial encounters that you regularly have. We spend a long time chatting over lunch, then head to the palace, but the tickets are $6 so we sack it off. We end up instead heading to the riverfront area for more beers and catching up. We enjoy cheap happy hour beers as little kids (who speak better English than anyone that age in England) repeatedly harass us to buy shit we don’t want: they start off nice but soon get cheeky when rejected, one outrageously suggesting he will die if I don’t give him some-money (something hard to believe when the cheeky shit has brand named clothes that are much fresher than yours!).
It sounds as if Jonny has had a very different, but pretty fun experience so far: and we enjoy hearing stories of crazy nights out and drunken shenanigans. The night quickly goes by and we begin to stack up the beers, getting on the jugs (approx 6 glasses) with our Cambodian meals. The waiter at the place suspiciously doesn’t write down our orders, which I find a bit worrying; however I hesitate to say anything for fear of causing offence. I realise this was a bad move when I receive some kind of fried noodle instead of what I asked for and the chef has to completely retake the order – not that were too arsed as we’re having a wicked time anyway.
We end up buying a bottle of solichnaya vodka ($7) and heading back to his hostel for a session. We chat away into the wee hours, making vile drinks with our cheap knock off Cambodian Fanta – and all in all it is a wicked night. We’re too knackered and drunk to get back home, so we all pile into the double bed and wake up together the next day (not feeling quite so refreshed as we’d like).
Phnom Pehn
Phnom Penh
We arrive in the city and head to the “backpacker ghetto” by the lake. We intend to take a tuk-yuk, but as usually the cunning drivers say it is no longer possible, knocked down etc. We therefore walk, along with our friend domingo, in the amazingly fierce Cambodian sun. The temperature is intense and I later realise I have some hardcore sunburn from the boat, which masked the sun with a sea breeze. The area is still up and running, but it is facing demolition slowly, as developers move in and use the land – still we find a nice chilled atmosphere and a very cheap room at just over £3 a night!
The area is actually all the cooler for being semi-demolished, it is now a sort of underground backpacking Amsterdam, with “happy shakes” and stoner cafes all around. It isn’t our scene but we enjoy the isolation and relaxing vibe in an otherwise chaotic city. We also learn that the prices here are half what they are elsewhere, with the riverfront area resembling any holiday destination in Europe.
We enjoy a relaxed afternoon of wandering around and eating and drinking, getting a feel for the city, on the way back I relish catching up on united highlights (5-0 good to see where tearing the premier-league apart – just a shame all the matches are at 3am!), and having a few beers. As I watch the match some due offers me a toke on a spliff, I decline and ask if it is legal here as I hadn’t realised. He says it isn’t legal but comes out with an awesome quote – “ there is no law in Cambodia because there are no fucking police”, he explains how this is bad and good, as it gives you much freedom, but also offers you little protection. While I’m watching the footy Kath goes online and finds out Johnny-Boy is in the city at the okay geusthouse. We deliberate e-mailing him to arrange a meeting but instead I think it will be cool to go off the cuff and try and catch him.
We head down to the place via tuk-tuk and, with the aid of helpful hotel staff, engage in some heavy breaches of data protection to find his room number. His key isn’t at reception so we think he is in so we bang away at his door for ages. Unfortunately we get no response and despite hanging around for a while see no sign of him. We therefore stash a note written on the cardboard part of a bog-roll under his door. On the way back we catch an amazing pyro-technical fountain display, synchronized to cheesy music.
Back in our area we join up with domingo for a beer and starving grab a falafel sandwich for dinner in a crazily relaxed Israeli bar – something you rarely see in these parts. At the end when the bill comes he asks me what we had as he can’t remember (I’m pretty sure he’s stoned), luckily I’m honest and settle up fairly.
As we prepare to head home I hear some underground hip-hop blazing from a dingy bar across the street. We head across and are amazed to read a sign that says spliffs, joints, reefer $1. We drop in for a beer and get chatting to the owner and find he is a dude from Leicester who has somehow managed to run a bar here for 4-5 years now with an initial investment of £600. He has a cute young lad who wanders around the bar and an attractive Cambodian wife, who it seems isn’t so keen to join us for a chill. The place is unreal, seriously revolutionary shit, playing pure underground hip-hop and d&b and absolutely no bullshit. It consists of a tiny room with a pool table in the middle and a few seats, no fancy lighting or furniture, just a grimey hip-hop hole! I keep wondering if the place is even real, as he puts on non-phixion for me at block shaking volume! He tells us a lot about his crazy times in Cambodia, dealing with the corrupt police, hookers and the seedy underworld created by tourism. He is by far one of the most interesting characters I have met and I just hope he keeps up and running so people can visit and see that I haven’t made it all up!
We arrive in the city and head to the “backpacker ghetto” by the lake. We intend to take a tuk-yuk, but as usually the cunning drivers say it is no longer possible, knocked down etc. We therefore walk, along with our friend domingo, in the amazingly fierce Cambodian sun. The temperature is intense and I later realise I have some hardcore sunburn from the boat, which masked the sun with a sea breeze. The area is still up and running, but it is facing demolition slowly, as developers move in and use the land – still we find a nice chilled atmosphere and a very cheap room at just over £3 a night!
The area is actually all the cooler for being semi-demolished, it is now a sort of underground backpacking Amsterdam, with “happy shakes” and stoner cafes all around. It isn’t our scene but we enjoy the isolation and relaxing vibe in an otherwise chaotic city. We also learn that the prices here are half what they are elsewhere, with the riverfront area resembling any holiday destination in Europe.
We enjoy a relaxed afternoon of wandering around and eating and drinking, getting a feel for the city, on the way back I relish catching up on united highlights (5-0 good to see where tearing the premier-league apart – just a shame all the matches are at 3am!), and having a few beers. As I watch the match some due offers me a toke on a spliff, I decline and ask if it is legal here as I hadn’t realised. He says it isn’t legal but comes out with an awesome quote – “ there is no law in Cambodia because there are no fucking police”, he explains how this is bad and good, as it gives you much freedom, but also offers you little protection. While I’m watching the footy Kath goes online and finds out Johnny-Boy is in the city at the okay geusthouse. We deliberate e-mailing him to arrange a meeting but instead I think it will be cool to go off the cuff and try and catch him.
We head down to the place via tuk-tuk and, with the aid of helpful hotel staff, engage in some heavy breaches of data protection to find his room number. His key isn’t at reception so we think he is in so we bang away at his door for ages. Unfortunately we get no response and despite hanging around for a while see no sign of him. We therefore stash a note written on the cardboard part of a bog-roll under his door. On the way back we catch an amazing pyro-technical fountain display, synchronized to cheesy music.
Back in our area we join up with domingo for a beer and starving grab a falafel sandwich for dinner in a crazily relaxed Israeli bar – something you rarely see in these parts. At the end when the bill comes he asks me what we had as he can’t remember (I’m pretty sure he’s stoned), luckily I’m honest and settle up fairly.
As we prepare to head home I hear some underground hip-hop blazing from a dingy bar across the street. We head across and are amazed to read a sign that says spliffs, joints, reefer $1. We drop in for a beer and get chatting to the owner and find he is a dude from Leicester who has somehow managed to run a bar here for 4-5 years now with an initial investment of £600. He has a cute young lad who wanders around the bar and an attractive Cambodian wife, who it seems isn’t so keen to join us for a chill. The place is unreal, seriously revolutionary shit, playing pure underground hip-hop and d&b and absolutely no bullshit. It consists of a tiny room with a pool table in the middle and a few seats, no fancy lighting or furniture, just a grimey hip-hop hole! I keep wondering if the place is even real, as he puts on non-phixion for me at block shaking volume! He tells us a lot about his crazy times in Cambodia, dealing with the corrupt police, hookers and the seedy underworld created by tourism. He is by far one of the most interesting characters I have met and I just hope he keeps up and running so people can visit and see that I haven’t made it all up!
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