I almost entitled this entry "One Night in Bangkok" because that's exactly how much time I spent there before leaving Thailand. Don’t get me wrong, I plan to return to the decedent metropolis eventually (probably during Thai New Year’s week) but this morning when I woke up, although tired of transit, I just wanted to get away from the big city. Beijing was big enough, and even though it has twice the population of the Thai capital, with more skyscrapers and motor scooters, Bangkok actually felt bigger. After almost stepping in front of a bus because I wasn’t aware that Thais drive on the left side of the road, might first night in Bangkok was quite pleasant. It took me a little bit to figure out the walk to my hostel, but my evening wandering was complimented by quiet canal views and noisy street food vendors. My hostel was nice, complete with pool and full size patio restaurant. I met the owner, “Ron” and he was more than accommodating. I enjoyed a dish of fettuccine in spicy squid sauce, washed it down with a Singha beer, and retired to my room, convinced that after the difficult day I had getting there, I would probably just chill out in Bangkok for at least another 24 hours.
But, when I woke up earlier than usual, I couldn’t resist the temptation of trying for less crowded environs. I thought maybe, just maybe, I might be able to make it to the Kingdom of Cambodia. I knew that the buses to the border departed from the Northern (Mo Chit) Station, so I took advantage of a free tuk-tuk to the Skytrain (one of Bangkok’s many privately owned light rail systems) and made the hour-long journey to Mo Chit Station. I thought that the Mo Chit Skytrain station would be near the Mo Chit bus terminal, but not really. After a helpful gardener in the lush park across the street suggested I get a cab, I took his advice, and given the 95-degree temps, I was glad I didn’t attempt what would’ve been a very long hike.
When I got to the terminal at 10:30AM, I found the window advertising a trip to the border town of Aranya Prathet, and asked them when the bus was leaving. They said, “Right Now”, and pointed to a large sign I’d somehow missed that said “10:30”. I ended up being the last passenger on board, sitting behind Laura, Sydney, and Nicole, three Canadians sharing the same goal destination, ill prepared for the five-hour journey that awaited. I can’t say that it was the most pleasant trip, but it had its high points, like the cute little Thai girl traveling with her mother and baby brother, curiously staring at my camera, and the pit stop at a wayside 7-11. However, by the time we got to the border crossing, I was overjoyed to step off of the bus. So too were the Canadian nurses (who knew each other from medical school)…so much so that we followed the first people touting a Cambodian Visa and paid an additional 18 dollars for their services. But that was fine by me, because although we might have felt bamboozled, it still kept us out of the first of two queues into the country.
The checkpoint was painless, and on the advice of many a travel magazine, took a tourist bus through the dangerous ghetto to the main transit terminal in Poipet, long-considered the armpit of Cambodia. After the uncomfortable bus ride, it was hard to pass up a hired taxi to Siem Reap, which cost us $12 each for the two and a half hour journey. On the way, we stopped for gasoline at a roadside hut, the tank filled from a hose coming out of the trunk, with gasoline stored in used water bottles, pumped by a man smoking a cigarette. We made two more stops after that, one at an rural outhouse full for a bathroom break, and the other at a gas station so that our driver could deliver a box of formula to his pregnant wife and their adorable baby. The drive to Siem Reap felt like the most authentically Asian thing I’d been partisan to so far…water buffalo blocking the road, shoulder brush alight in flames, and whole families piled onto on motorcycles. I was wondering if I’d like Siem Reap at all.
Siem Reap (which is Cambodian for “Siam Defeated”) has prospered in later years as the gateway to the ancient temple of Angkor Wat. Angkor Wat is their national symbol, and represents the peak of Khmer culture…its name and likeness appear on everything from beer to the flag of Cambodia itself. When we arrived in town, the taxi driver ceded us to other locals (for no additional charge) the Canadians got in a van headed for their pre-booked hostel, and I hopped on the back of a moped headed for the center of town.
My driver, Chan, turned out to be a helpful guy, and brought me to a handful of guest houses so that I could pick a suitable room. Although the room is supremely Spartan, at least I have my own private air-conditioned room and bath, right in the middle of the action. Thankful for his help, I told Chan I’d hire him tomorrow (at the exorbitant cost of $8/day) to take me out on his moped to Angkor tomorrow morning at 7:00. After check-in, I walked along the sedentary Stung Siem Reap (Siem Reap River) to the bustling night market. I had a relaxing al fresco dinner of Amoc, a baked chicken curry dish served in a giant coconut, followed by a ubiquitous Angkor brew, while watching tourists dunk their legs into tanks of water to let fish “massage” their feet (the fish exfoliate as they munch on dead tissue)
I thought to myself, “You know, I might really dig this place.”
