3rd June 2008
Having had a taste of Sihanoukville, Stephen
and I travelled further down the coast to a smaller quieter town called
Kampot. A charming little town by day which sits beside a river.
Stephen and I both sought out a spot by the river under some shade to
read our books.
We also stopped by a cafe which was recommended
in the guidebook due to its community ties. The cafe was run by
disabled cambodians. Most appeared to be deaf, although some were
suffering from a physical disability and our main waitress suffered
from a skin condition (I think it may have been leprosy). So our order
and requests were communicated by the simplified sign language
explained in the table literature and pointing at menus.The lunch snack was delicious, as was the tea.
The cafe is actually a side-project of a wider community
initiative that encourages performing arts. The founder was actually an
English contemporary dancer who was paralysed (I remember reading about
her a long time ago) - and who was inspired by CandoCo Dance Company
(which I watched in performance years ago when I was dancing at
school). I felt quite moved by it all.
Dinner was spent with two girls - Australian and Brit - who had booked on to the same group tour as us for the next day.
I
have this thing about seeing towns and cities at night - I really love
contrasting the town at night with its character during the day. So at
10.30pm, I decided to leave the table in search of an ATM which should
have been a 15-minute walk into town.
The streets were
pitch-black...no street lighting! It gave a perfect view of the
night-sky. I rejected the advice of an irritating English blabber-mouth
who(amongst the many unsolicited pieces of advice he offered) advised
that we travel by moto or tuk-tuk through the town at night because of
the high number of rabid dogs prowling the streets. I took this advice,
along with everything else he said, with a large dose of salt. That
turned out to be a huge mistake.
The town was quiet around the
guesthouse. No person was walking the streets, and few cars/motorbikes
ever crossed my path. I decided to take a backstreet to the town -
since this was the most direct route to the ATM.
As I ventured
into the street dimly lit by the moon, I occasionally caught sight of
shadows moving in my peripheral vision. I never looked directly, there
was no need...I knew that there were packs of dogs along the pavement
to the right and besides the closed shops to the left. I opted to keep
my eyes focused on my destination - knowing also that any direct look
may intimate fear. I also opted to walk in the middle of the road, as I
figured that there was less chance of me being hit by a passing vehicle
than being attacked by the dogs. In my left hand I carried a torch,
which I did not put on because I did not to highlight my intrusion into
the dogs domain like a beacon. In my right hand I carried my
pocket-knife - a fairly sturdy Leatherman Wave with a single-finger
knife action. I honestly don't know what I would have done with it,
although I have felt alot safer travelling alone in certain parts at
night when I have carried it in hand (I always keep it in my pocket
anyway) and made its presence known as an intimidatory deterrent.
I made it safely to the ATM, only have to take one diversion near to my destination to avoid a pack of dogs blocking a junction.
My
return journey was not so fortuitous. I took the same route back, but
this time I was stopped in my tracks by a different pack of dogs at a
different junction. One dog creeped towards me, teeth showing, after I
had stopped. I decided to back away slowly and take an alternative
route. The dog sped up, and so I did to. I realised that the dog was
coming for me, so I turned on to a different street and ran as fast as
me legs could take me (fortunately I can run quite fast). The dog gave
chase, quickly followed by the pack of dogs which he had crept away
from. I ran through the dark backstreets for about 25-30 metres (which
may be an underestimate) before I managed to lose them. My heart was
racing, I was panting, and I found myself standing on one of the
partially-lit main roads. I followed the main road north, as an
alternative route back to the guesthouse.
But again, not far from the guesthouse, I found myself descended upon by dogs. I
may well have provoked this chase after one dog started to move towards
me - I decided to make a run for it once it was uncomfortably within
biting distance. This chase was far worse in terms of the number of
dogs - this time packs (plural!) of dogs started chasing me in waves
from each side of the pavement. I was helped, however, by the partially
lit street.
I had to run quite far past my guesthouse to the
bridge at the end of town before I lost them. I waited a while, and
then made my way back hesitantly. I eventually searched out my
guesthouse and banged on the gate so that the asleep guard would let me
in.
I rejoined the dinner table. My closest encounter with disaster so far - what a night!
