September 29th - October 5th
Luckily, all went well at the Veun Kham border crossing from Laos to Cambodia although we annoyingly had to pay an extra dollar for the visa for no apparent reason along with a dollar for a stamp on the visa (the price not being the irritation but the lack of explanation). We had already changed minivans twice since leaving our collection point in Laos and once on the Cambodian side of the border, there was, as always, a number of puzzling stops on our way to Kratie: the first to collect some long pieces of wood which had to be pushed through the back of the minivan and under our seats forcing our legs in the air; another where travellers from a minibus, which left two hours before ours, jumped on; and a third stop confusingly two minutes around the corner from the second one. We are always baffled by such incidences and just have to accept that the bus companies must have their own reasons for organising their logistics like this.
Kratie was the place where I first ate Amok (a wonderful Cambodian dish, usually with chicken or fish in a coconut and vegtable sauce) and where I managed to see Irrawaddy Dolphins - some of the world's rarest fresh water dolphins. It was, however, the journey to the dolphins, rather than the exciting but not so revealing flashes of their backs, that provided the most entertainment. I rented one very rusty bike from my guesthouse and cycled about 15km down a straight stretch of road passing one community of houses after another. As I rode, people came running out of dark wooden houses to greet me and then beamed the most cantagious smiles when I called back. Many also asked, "what's your name?" and "where you go?" so I spent an hour almost continuously shouting over my shoulder "Hello ... Gabrielle ... See dolphins!" One local boy, with relatively good English, cycled alongside me for a few minutes and taught me a few words in Cambodian. My mind was buzzing on that bike trip trying to formulate my first impressions of the country I had just arrived in; a country that has only lived in peace for ten years. I couldn't help but conclude that the Cambodians, at least on that stretch of road between Kratie and the dolphins, are extremely welcoming people. On the way back to Kratie, I stopped off at what initially appeared someone's home but where benches outside indicated I might be able to get something to eat. It took about five minutes to communicate that I was hungry (pointing to my stomach and mouth didn't work) and in the end I succeeded in getting the message across by pointing to one of the bowls on the table and saying "same". The locals looked extremely surprised and all turned to look at me when I was handed what I can only guess at being spaghetti and tripe soup which I, disgracefully, had to leave certain parts of. That gave me just enough energy to make a detour on the way back to climb the steps up Phnom Sombok - a hill with a "wat" on top and take in the views of the Mekong whilst catching my breath from all the answering of questions.
I can't think why, after having seen the dolphins, someone may want to spend longer than two nights in Kratie (perhaps my opinion of the place was harshened by the persistent rain, which produced quite muddy and smelly streets). Let's just say I was pleased when we were on the bus to Phnom Penh. What we did not realise, however, was that we were travelling on the day after a national holiday so that we probably paid double the normal price for our bus ticket for the priviledge of sharing the road (note the singular) with everyone who had escaped the capital for the holiday. Thus, after about four hours into the journey, we found ourselves in a stationary bus 8km on the outskirts of Phnom Penh for another four hours. When the engine was turned off, the heat got unbearable so soon we were all standing on the road along with many other hot and tired-looking travellers from the various vehicles chaotically parked around us. It was then that I experienced the worst toilet I have been in in the last 10 weeks (and I have been squatting in a lot of wet and smelly places!) only to walk around the corner and see a bright, white and clean "WC" (which is a rare thing in itself nevermind the fact that it was two minutes from Cambodia's worst toilet). Ahhr! Something else, apart from the toilet experience and the sight of an astonishing number of Cambodians crammed into every possible vehicle space - including the boots of cars and the roofs of minivans - shocked me that day: Robbie told me he can't ever remember being in a traffic jam before. If there were one comment that indicated he is Irish and I am English, that would be it!
When we eventually got to our "Smile Guesthouse" in Phnom Penh, I ordered a cheese and bacon hamburger, a coconut shake and a fruit and chocolate pancake and felt no pangs of guilt whatsoever; there has to be some compensation for horrendous journeys and bad toielts. There was a cockroach in our room and a rat near to reception but I am getting used to such greetings. Nevertheless, I was slightly concerned when Robbie woke me in the early hours of the first night with: "Gabi, I think we have some animal issues. " It's hard for me to believe, not being the greatest fan of creepy crawlies or vermin, that I have somehow become the stronger one of the pair in such situations. We spent a few minutes talking about what these issues could be (he was referring to rats) and I then managed to get over to Robbie's bed and stretch to turn the light on all without touching the floor, which was quite acrobatic given the distance of the switch from the bed. We couldn't see anything and I advised Robbie to put his earplugs in as they were doing the trick for me.
It was lucky that Robbie and I did a huge walking tour of Phnom Penh on our first day in the city as thereafter Robbie started to feel ill again (or maybe it was the tour that wiped him out). We spent our second day consequently close to the guesthouse (in fact, Robbie didn't leave it and the furthest I got was the pharmacy to ask for some medicine that would cure "nausea, fever, lack of appetite, stomach ache and a rash on the leg"). Our guesthouse fortunately had a great "chill area" so we spent an afternoon watching CNN and then "Lions for Lambs" on dvd (which, for the record, I was enjoying quite a lot until the pathetic and irritating end).
We were both woken up during our second night in "Smile Guesthouse" by an horrific cat fight on our tin roof. I really have never heard cats fighting as loudly as they did that night - the walls of our container-like bedroom were actually shaking. I managed to get back to sleep but it was another restless night for Robbie who was really suffering with the "animal issues" of the place and couldn't even bring himself to go to the bathroom before I had been in first. He decided to stay in bed the next day and I went to the Russian market and then to the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum (former Khmer Rouge S-21 prison). Tuol Sleng used to be a school in Phnom Penh until the Khmer Rouge took it over in 1975 to use as a premier security institution, specifically designed for the interrogation and extermination of anti-"Angkar" elements. Out of an estimated 12,500 prisoners detained there (2000 of which were children), only a handful survived the prison. Needless to say, it was a somber and moving visit. Back at the guesthouse, I watched "Hotel Rwanda" with Robbie to round of my genocide day. I guess not every day can be joy and bliss when travelling! A cockroach climbing next to my headrest as I was getting into bed seemed to finish it off nicely.
