George reporting from Siem Reap, following our first day in Cambodia's answer to Disney Land - the temples of Angkor.
Since our last report we have done a lot of travel and not much else until today. After our last report, we had the last Battambang supper at the long-awaited Smokin' Pot. We both had very traditional Khmer dishes - Bec had fish Amok and I had the 'fire mountain', in other words marinated beef you cook yourself on a portable stove. It was really good. Unfortunately for Bec, hers didn't rock so much. We finished our last night somewhat later than ideal for our 7am departure the next day; Bec was coerced into my game of Texas Hold'em with Brett, manager of the Bus Stop guesthouse where we'd stayed, and his wife, Tia (also coerced). It was fun, especially since with a generous scoop of good luck, I won the pot!
Anyhow, the journey to Siem Reap along the Sangker River almost didn't begin at all; the bus driver forgot us, and a frantic tuk tuk driver was sent after us. Given we were late we were relegated to the back seats, also known as the outdoor engine compartment. Quickly deafened by the engine and whipped by branches as we cruised down tiny canals, we followed the crowd onto the roof of the boat, where the journey rapidly improved. It was damn hot, but the views were magnificent, and by hanging one's legs over the side it wasn't terribly uncomfortable.
Making it to shore after a run across Tonle Sap lake we were accosted by (allegedly) starving kids, tuk tuk drivers and other dodgy scammers. We'd fallen for the oldest scam in the book and given our names to some bloke on the boat who had this rather logical piece of paper arguing that since our hotel booked the boat we also had free transport to our accommodation. Lesson number one in not getting ripped off in developing nations: outlandish lies are no problem at all, and they'll smile and nod while telling you complete crap. The guy set to deliver us to our hotel was horrified when we said we'd already booked a place, since the scam involves your 'free' trip being entirely dependent on you staying wherever your tuk tuk driver takes you - that being the place paying him commission. So we ended up in a pain-in-the-rectum argument about the fact we'd already paid deposits etc, we weren't changing our accommodation, how much is fair, and eventually settled on $4, a ludicrously inflated price given his lies about how much further from the city our hotel was (it was also terrible according to him, but it's the second best place we've been).
The other challenge disembarking was these kids trained to be perfect parasites, wanting to eat anything we had and offering nothing but rudeness and boisterousness in return. In fact they even participated in one poor soul from our boat ending up on her backside on the muddy banks of the lake. She must be a saint 'cause she laughed it off. I would have been swinging punches (except they were 10 or less, so not really, but they p*ssed me off anyway).
Anyhow, whinging aside, we got to our hotel and it's fantastic. The family running the place are extremely friendly and I've been locked onto by one of the kids who's wrapped that I think his Borat impersonation is hilarious (which it is). After settling in we had a few beers and listened to the kid's awesome iPod playlist then headed to the infamous Bar Street aka Pub Street, and no prizes for guessing what we did there. Not a lot to report except awesome happy hour prices: for two beers and two cocktails between us we left a total of $5. Sweet.
Starvingly hungry we went the pizza option, at the dubiously named 'Ecstatic Pizza' where, unsurprisingly, they'll put a little something special on your pizza if you so desire. We decided to chance it and, again unsurprisingly, nothing happened. That said, we did get very tired very quickly and ended up crashing out before 10.
This morning we had our first of three days touring the temples, the raison détre of Siem Reap in the tourist age. We had a tuk tuk driver for the whole day and took full advantage of this by getting him to first take us to Vietnam Airlines with the hope of sorting out a ticketing debacle (no such luck). We began our adventures at Bayon, a temple coverered in zany faces, then went on to Priminekas and the Elephant and Leper King walks. We then went to a couple of lesser temples and onto the highlight of the day, the overgrown Ta Prohm, the scene of the first Tomb Raider film. Don't let that put you off; it's amazing. Trees grow on top of towers and walls. Massive root systems dwarf statues and other formations. Everywhere nature is defeating this timeless construction. It's awesome.
Frankly, it was a bit downhill from there. It was hot, damn hot, and we were already buggered by 1. Stopping for lunch at 2 charged the batteries a bit, but we had the biggest - and ostensibly best - yet to come. Our driver dropped us to the back of Angkor Wat, which saved us some tourist angst, but also probably enhanced the let down factor a bit. There's not much 'wow' at the back, although it does get pretty impressive as you work your way into the four layers of the central towers. Unfortunately the peaks themselves are now off limits - permanently or temporarily we don't know. But we finished off with the requisite photos of the front of the Wat, across its massive moats etc. The photos do look impressive, but after a whole day of temples, heat and some harrassment, we were a bit over it (that said, as an aside, there was a mysterious absence of the kids trying to sell you useless crap within the building itself - perhaps authorities have seen sense and banned the practice within the country's most holy building).
So now we're showered and prepared to hit Bar/Pub Street again. We have another, hopefully shorter, temple day tomorrow and we will report back then.
Farewell.
17 November 2008
15 November 2008
The day the boy became a man
Today, George conquered several fears, and with great aplomb I might add.
We decided to do another day tour, considering the stinkin' Smokin' Pot was still not open so we couldn't do the cooking class today, but at $20 per person it was starting to get a bit pricey, so our hotel host suggested a slightly cheaper alternative: get one guide to take me on the back, and rent a motorcycle for the day for George to ride. I was dubious but he was keen, so we decided to do it.
He started out with a quick tutorial in our street, which, although not manically busy, was quite busy enough for someone who hadn't ridden a motorbike for at least 10 years, and never on the right side of the road, and certainly never in a foreign country that has no road rules whatsoever. This achieved with some success, we set off, with me looking over my shoulder every five seconds to make sure he was still following and not flattened on the road.
But, all things considered, he did a very good job, despite me shitting myself on his behalf the whole way, and about an hour later we arrived at an enormous lake that is apparently 8km wide, and during the Khmer Rouge regime had been dammed, at the expense of many more lives, so that the country could produce two crops of rice per year rather than just one.
We then went on a mildly scary ride in a small rowboat that not only had a leak in it, but had very low sides so that anytime we moved, a bit of water would tip in. George was given a plate for the purpose of bailing out water as we went, and although the patch of lotus plants and flowers that we went through was beautiful, I was very keen to get back to shore asap, particularly since the kid who was rowing us was whispering to himself every now and then and sounded slightly psychotic. Turns out he wasn't, but still, when you can't swim very well and you're in the middle of a lake in a leaky boat, you don't tend to feel very confident.
Reaching the shore again with the boat and our lives still intact, we had a quick wander along the shore where there was supposed to be a row of Khmer restaurant stalls, but it didn't look like anyone was cooking anything (and with an hour's ride back on the bike with no facilities in sight, we wouldn't have risked having lunch there anyway). So we got back on the bikes for a long, bumpy and very dusty trip back to Battambang.
After long showers to get rid of the dust, George then conquered his second fear by taking me as a pillion passenger on the back of the bike to a local restaurant. After a bit of a shaky start where we almost cleaned up a few very alarmed girls, he got the hang of the extra weight pretty quickly and we had a very tasty lunch at the restaurant.
But this wasn't until he'd conquered his third fear - using the dubious dunny with no toilet paper and no time to get anywhere else. I won't go into details, but he claims he is now a new man after the experience (in fact, after two as it turns out).
After lunch we decided to explore a bit further and rode through a picturesque village along the river where there were a lot of temples and a lot of happy smiling kids waving wildly to us as we went past and screaming out 'Hello! Hello! Hello!' and then squealing with delight when we waved back. The road just kept going for ages so we followed it until we came to a bloody steep hill going downwards and George decided that his confidence wasn't quite up to this task, so we turned around, much to the amusement of a bunch of locals.
We went back to the hotel and sat out the front for a while with a couple of beers and read our books, then retired to our room for a lie down for another hour or so. We've just emerged now and are about to have dinner at aforementioned stinkin' Smokin' Pot (it re-opened today, just in time for us to piss off tomorrow). After this our hotel guy is going to teach George how to play Texas Hold'em Poker and I'll probably watch that for about half an hour before going to bed.
Tomorrow we're up bright and early to get the 7 hour boat to Siem Reap. It's supposed to be the most beautiful boat ride in Cambodia, but we're hoping it might be a bit ahead of schedule. After tonight we've only got four more nights in Cambodia before we begin our arse journey back. We're both missing home and looking forward to getting back into a normal routine, but will have to steel ourselves for the tourist nightmare that lies ahead.
We decided to do another day tour, considering the stinkin' Smokin' Pot was still not open so we couldn't do the cooking class today, but at $20 per person it was starting to get a bit pricey, so our hotel host suggested a slightly cheaper alternative: get one guide to take me on the back, and rent a motorcycle for the day for George to ride. I was dubious but he was keen, so we decided to do it.
He started out with a quick tutorial in our street, which, although not manically busy, was quite busy enough for someone who hadn't ridden a motorbike for at least 10 years, and never on the right side of the road, and certainly never in a foreign country that has no road rules whatsoever. This achieved with some success, we set off, with me looking over my shoulder every five seconds to make sure he was still following and not flattened on the road.
But, all things considered, he did a very good job, despite me shitting myself on his behalf the whole way, and about an hour later we arrived at an enormous lake that is apparently 8km wide, and during the Khmer Rouge regime had been dammed, at the expense of many more lives, so that the country could produce two crops of rice per year rather than just one.
We then went on a mildly scary ride in a small rowboat that not only had a leak in it, but had very low sides so that anytime we moved, a bit of water would tip in. George was given a plate for the purpose of bailing out water as we went, and although the patch of lotus plants and flowers that we went through was beautiful, I was very keen to get back to shore asap, particularly since the kid who was rowing us was whispering to himself every now and then and sounded slightly psychotic. Turns out he wasn't, but still, when you can't swim very well and you're in the middle of a lake in a leaky boat, you don't tend to feel very confident.
Reaching the shore again with the boat and our lives still intact, we had a quick wander along the shore where there was supposed to be a row of Khmer restaurant stalls, but it didn't look like anyone was cooking anything (and with an hour's ride back on the bike with no facilities in sight, we wouldn't have risked having lunch there anyway). So we got back on the bikes for a long, bumpy and very dusty trip back to Battambang.
After long showers to get rid of the dust, George then conquered his second fear by taking me as a pillion passenger on the back of the bike to a local restaurant. After a bit of a shaky start where we almost cleaned up a few very alarmed girls, he got the hang of the extra weight pretty quickly and we had a very tasty lunch at the restaurant.
But this wasn't until he'd conquered his third fear - using the dubious dunny with no toilet paper and no time to get anywhere else. I won't go into details, but he claims he is now a new man after the experience (in fact, after two as it turns out).
After lunch we decided to explore a bit further and rode through a picturesque village along the river where there were a lot of temples and a lot of happy smiling kids waving wildly to us as we went past and screaming out 'Hello! Hello! Hello!' and then squealing with delight when we waved back. The road just kept going for ages so we followed it until we came to a bloody steep hill going downwards and George decided that his confidence wasn't quite up to this task, so we turned around, much to the amusement of a bunch of locals.
We went back to the hotel and sat out the front for a while with a couple of beers and read our books, then retired to our room for a lie down for another hour or so. We've just emerged now and are about to have dinner at aforementioned stinkin' Smokin' Pot (it re-opened today, just in time for us to piss off tomorrow). After this our hotel guy is going to teach George how to play Texas Hold'em Poker and I'll probably watch that for about half an hour before going to bed.
Tomorrow we're up bright and early to get the 7 hour boat to Siem Reap. It's supposed to be the most beautiful boat ride in Cambodia, but we're hoping it might be a bit ahead of schedule. After tonight we've only got four more nights in Cambodia before we begin our arse journey back. We're both missing home and looking forward to getting back into a normal routine, but will have to steel ourselves for the tourist nightmare that lies ahead.
14 November 2008
Metal cows and Cambodian snow
No, Bec and I have not been sampling Cambodia's infamous 'happy pizza'; these are just a few of our learnings from our just completed moto tour of Battambang's countryside.
But let me bring you up to speed.
After our last report, we did what we'd promised to ourselves we'd use Battambang to do - nothing. We went to the room, turned on the fan, a/c and CNN and slept - a thoroughly decadent experience for me (that said I was feeling poorly). Whenwe finally dragged ourselves out of the room again we couldn't really be buggered with traipsing back to the river front for dinner so instead did a dusty and futile walk around the three main streets looking for somewhere to kill time before dinner. We settled on a nice looking first floor balcony called 'Gecko', a restaurant/bar/massage parlour to which we'd received free drink vouchers. After a couple of G&Ts all inspiration to move on left us, so we got a cop-out dinner of burgers and fries from the same joint (and I thought my burger rocked, so score one to me).
With full bellies and desire for more drinks waning rapidly we retired to our hotel, where despite my not particularly wanting to drink I still managed to bring our foolish Phnom Penh purchase of a bottle of gin downstairs to drink with the hotel owner while he battled the Mac settings on my iPod in an ultimately fruitless attempt to reverse tunes off it. It can be done; oh yes, it can be done.
After too many gins I stumbled upstairs (Bec had made the right call earlier) only to find Die Hard III on. So an early night was scotched.
This morning we finally got out and about. We'd organised a tour through our hotel and got two bikes and guides to take us around local Battambang sites. The highlights included a ride on what's called the Bamboo Train, a highly dodgy contraption that runs a thin bamboo platform at high speed across some of the worst train track in the world. Although it'd meet no safety standards whatsoever, it was damn good fun and we got to see some fantastic scenery, including rice fields stretching to the horizon.
We also went to an Angkor-style temple at the peak of a decent climb, and later to what's colloquially known as Boat Mountain, the home to legends about the foundation of Cambodia's terra firma. The walk and the guide's input were both fascinating. The walk also took us through another of the Khmer Rouge's litany of offenses against humanity; a gaping hole in the earth leading to a cave and a 30 foot fall for anyone who fell foul of the regime's insane intolerance. It was sickening but moving.
We finished with a dusty trek through village territory where I learned the two terms that headline this yarn: Cambodian snow is a polite term for the choking dust thrown up by the myriad cars, trucks, motos and tuk tuks that gradually tear up the roads, and metal cows are modernity's answer to an ox-pulled plough. It's a fascinating place, and if you ever come here I'd recommend the same two guides we had.
Having returned to the (relative) safety and cleanliness of our hotel, we shouted our guides a beer then headed back to the rocking nameless noodle place for lunch. We've had a few beers and there's not many plans for the remainder of the day aside from showers, more beers and maybe drinks and dinner at the Riverside Balcony.
We're spewing that the Smoking Pot remains shut despite a re-opening date of 13 November, but it seems Vietnamese 'rubber time' applies here too. As a result we might do another tour tomorrow, but for now it's time for cleaning, napping, and perhaps even learning the art of Texas Hold'em from our colourful (and somewhat bogan) hotellier.
Need a slash. Cheers.
But let me bring you up to speed.
After our last report, we did what we'd promised to ourselves we'd use Battambang to do - nothing. We went to the room, turned on the fan, a/c and CNN and slept - a thoroughly decadent experience for me (that said I was feeling poorly). Whenwe finally dragged ourselves out of the room again we couldn't really be buggered with traipsing back to the river front for dinner so instead did a dusty and futile walk around the three main streets looking for somewhere to kill time before dinner. We settled on a nice looking first floor balcony called 'Gecko', a restaurant/bar/massage parlour to which we'd received free drink vouchers. After a couple of G&Ts all inspiration to move on left us, so we got a cop-out dinner of burgers and fries from the same joint (and I thought my burger rocked, so score one to me).
With full bellies and desire for more drinks waning rapidly we retired to our hotel, where despite my not particularly wanting to drink I still managed to bring our foolish Phnom Penh purchase of a bottle of gin downstairs to drink with the hotel owner while he battled the Mac settings on my iPod in an ultimately fruitless attempt to reverse tunes off it. It can be done; oh yes, it can be done.
After too many gins I stumbled upstairs (Bec had made the right call earlier) only to find Die Hard III on. So an early night was scotched.
This morning we finally got out and about. We'd organised a tour through our hotel and got two bikes and guides to take us around local Battambang sites. The highlights included a ride on what's called the Bamboo Train, a highly dodgy contraption that runs a thin bamboo platform at high speed across some of the worst train track in the world. Although it'd meet no safety standards whatsoever, it was damn good fun and we got to see some fantastic scenery, including rice fields stretching to the horizon.
We also went to an Angkor-style temple at the peak of a decent climb, and later to what's colloquially known as Boat Mountain, the home to legends about the foundation of Cambodia's terra firma. The walk and the guide's input were both fascinating. The walk also took us through another of the Khmer Rouge's litany of offenses against humanity; a gaping hole in the earth leading to a cave and a 30 foot fall for anyone who fell foul of the regime's insane intolerance. It was sickening but moving.
We finished with a dusty trek through village territory where I learned the two terms that headline this yarn: Cambodian snow is a polite term for the choking dust thrown up by the myriad cars, trucks, motos and tuk tuks that gradually tear up the roads, and metal cows are modernity's answer to an ox-pulled plough. It's a fascinating place, and if you ever come here I'd recommend the same two guides we had.
Having returned to the (relative) safety and cleanliness of our hotel, we shouted our guides a beer then headed back to the rocking nameless noodle place for lunch. We've had a few beers and there's not many plans for the remainder of the day aside from showers, more beers and maybe drinks and dinner at the Riverside Balcony.
We're spewing that the Smoking Pot remains shut despite a re-opening date of 13 November, but it seems Vietnamese 'rubber time' applies here too. As a result we might do another tour tomorrow, but for now it's time for cleaning, napping, and perhaps even learning the art of Texas Hold'em from our colourful (and somewhat bogan) hotellier.
Need a slash. Cheers.
13 November 2008
Battered in Battambang
Our journey to Battambang was fairly uneventful - for a 5 1/2 hour trip it was comfortable enough, with a few stops on the way to stretch our legs and use the somewhat dubious facilities. We had a free pick up arranged with our hotel, and they'd asked us to get off on the western side of the river, but of course the bus stopped on the eastern side and everyone piled off, with us just sitting there wondering if we should stay on or not. Looking out of the window, there were numerous moto-taxis holding up signs for hotels, and then I spotted this guy right out our window holding up a sign that said 'George & Bec'.
We had our first experience on motos, luggage and all, and were relieved that staying on without holding the guy around the waist like a tool was actually quite easy, particularly considering I was holding a water bottle and a Pringles (known here as 'Mister Potato Crisps') container in one hand.
We were greeted at our hotel by the Australian owner, who turns out to be from a suburb near to us in Adelaide. Small world. Our room here is not quite up to the standards of our last hotel, but we've got a king size bed, surprisingly enough. In keeping with our usual tradition of missing out or misinterpreting things, it turns out that the 'super fast internet' is actually 'super fast wifi', and since we didn't bring our laptop (stupid! stupid!), we miss out on that too. So we're in an internet cafe with tolerable speeds, but there'll be no photo uploading until we get home, unfortunately.
After we'd settled into our hotel we headed out to get our bearings, which was hardly difficult since this is quite a small and very laid back town. Our first stop was a cafe reputedly owned by bible bashers (found this out afterwards), where we had an iced coffee/chocolate/caramel concoction, which was kind of weird but tasty. It even had coffee ice cubes in it.
After this we went to a rooftop bar in a hotel nearby for a few beers and watched the sun go down, before trying to find a restaurant recommended by the Lonely Planet, which also runs Khmer cooking classes. Once again we missed out, as it was closed for the public holidays, which although only technically on Tuesday and Wednesday, seem to be liberally applied to the entire week. So we went to another small restaurant that had fairly good and very cheap meals, and I finally had a glass of red wine, which I've been missing (even though it was served cold).
After dinner we went back to our hotel and had several beers with the owner (out of Aussie stubbie holders - I had a Ballina RSL Club one) and listened to music and chatted. He's got a huge DVD collection, and later he put on a best of the Late Show CD where I finally learnt the origin of 'like a tiger' (doesn't make sense without hearing it though).
Finally we crashed out and had a very long sleep before going down for vegemite toast for breakfast - vegemite was good, bread was crap, but what can you do.
We then set out on an extended walk of the 'city limits', which took us a total of about an hour, including a stop for a drink on the way. We saw the statue at the entrance to the town, which is a giant god like creature called Dambong, holding some magic stick thing (the bat of Dambong, namesake of the town). We also walked past the governor's residence, a slightly shabby looking old French mansion which must have been very impressive once.
And that's kind of it for our sightseeing around here. We got more fruit shakes from a cafe, then went to a noodle place for a very tasty lunch before this update. Tomorrow we're planning to do a day tour out to the countryside and see some temples and some 'caves 'n' shit', as George says, with moto drivers who speak good English. And if the bloody place ever opens again we'll try to do the cooking class on the day after.
Nothing else to report really - it's two o'clock and we're out of things to do (if you ever come here, maybe only spend two nights in Battambang, not four). I'm sure you can guess where we'll be off to next.
Seeya.
We had our first experience on motos, luggage and all, and were relieved that staying on without holding the guy around the waist like a tool was actually quite easy, particularly considering I was holding a water bottle and a Pringles (known here as 'Mister Potato Crisps') container in one hand.
We were greeted at our hotel by the Australian owner, who turns out to be from a suburb near to us in Adelaide. Small world. Our room here is not quite up to the standards of our last hotel, but we've got a king size bed, surprisingly enough. In keeping with our usual tradition of missing out or misinterpreting things, it turns out that the 'super fast internet' is actually 'super fast wifi', and since we didn't bring our laptop (stupid! stupid!), we miss out on that too. So we're in an internet cafe with tolerable speeds, but there'll be no photo uploading until we get home, unfortunately.
After we'd settled into our hotel we headed out to get our bearings, which was hardly difficult since this is quite a small and very laid back town. Our first stop was a cafe reputedly owned by bible bashers (found this out afterwards), where we had an iced coffee/chocolate/caramel concoction, which was kind of weird but tasty. It even had coffee ice cubes in it.
After this we went to a rooftop bar in a hotel nearby for a few beers and watched the sun go down, before trying to find a restaurant recommended by the Lonely Planet, which also runs Khmer cooking classes. Once again we missed out, as it was closed for the public holidays, which although only technically on Tuesday and Wednesday, seem to be liberally applied to the entire week. So we went to another small restaurant that had fairly good and very cheap meals, and I finally had a glass of red wine, which I've been missing (even though it was served cold).
After dinner we went back to our hotel and had several beers with the owner (out of Aussie stubbie holders - I had a Ballina RSL Club one) and listened to music and chatted. He's got a huge DVD collection, and later he put on a best of the Late Show CD where I finally learnt the origin of 'like a tiger' (doesn't make sense without hearing it though).
Finally we crashed out and had a very long sleep before going down for vegemite toast for breakfast - vegemite was good, bread was crap, but what can you do.
We then set out on an extended walk of the 'city limits', which took us a total of about an hour, including a stop for a drink on the way. We saw the statue at the entrance to the town, which is a giant god like creature called Dambong, holding some magic stick thing (the bat of Dambong, namesake of the town). We also walked past the governor's residence, a slightly shabby looking old French mansion which must have been very impressive once.
And that's kind of it for our sightseeing around here. We got more fruit shakes from a cafe, then went to a noodle place for a very tasty lunch before this update. Tomorrow we're planning to do a day tour out to the countryside and see some temples and some 'caves 'n' shit', as George says, with moto drivers who speak good English. And if the bloody place ever opens again we'll try to do the cooking class on the day after.
Nothing else to report really - it's two o'clock and we're out of things to do (if you ever come here, maybe only spend two nights in Battambang, not four). I'm sure you can guess where we'll be off to next.
Seeya.
11 November 2008
Thrashed out and on the way out
Knackered. Seriously knackered. It's 8pm and we're back in our hotel. Let me explain.
After an unexpectedly crazy Monday night c/o altruistic Canadians and a complete lack of self control we had a late start and barely managed to hold down breakfast (OK, that's an exaggeration, but I felt poorly). Finally making it out of here around 10.30 we caught the same tuk tuk driver and went to the Royal Palace. His tourist senses must have been sleeping because the damn thing was shut for the public holiday, Silver Pagoda and all. If we'd been less lazy and less desperate for a beer on any other given day we could have gone into it. Oh well.
Having failed (epic) on the Royal Palace thing, we did a lame tourists' walk around the boundary, taking a few snaps through the gates - it is quite a spectacular-looking compound - then went to the national museum which was, luckily, open. That was pretty cool overall, loaded with a bizarre mix of religious iconography and statues coming out of its jaxie.
We'd developed a thirst by then, and not quite ready for the demon drink we stopped in at a fantastic fruit juice/smoothie joint where we downed some much needed dragon fruit and tangerine drinks. Our planned walk took us past the Independence Monument once again, and soon enough we'd ended up at Ph 57, our latest favourite street. We were hunting some bar called 'Gasolina', but needing fuel for the journey we stopped at the Green Mango for lunch.
After an unsuccessful jaunt up part of 57 we returned to the scene of last night's debacle, or the beginning of it anyway, where Bec had initially seen the advertisement for the photo exhibition we'd been looking for. I had a beer and Bec had a passionfruit and Cambodian honey smoothie, which truly rocked, just for sake of appearances, before we headed off again seeking this mysterious Gasolina place.
Despite my misgivings, we continued along 57 well past the known tourist zone and eventually stumbled onto Gasolina, which turns out to be this fantastic garden bar/bed sit/art zone. We'd come specifically to see a photo display called 'Smile Cambodia' which set up 8 or 10 young kids living literally on a landfill in Phnom Penh with cameras and sent them out to document their city. The pics are awesome and incredibly emotive; we'll be buying a few things from them I reckon. I should also mention about the bar itself that seating primarily consisted of massive outdoor covered beds with massive pillows; if we'd arrived earlier I could have been in a lot of trouble.
Having had a Tiger and some crazy Belgian beer we jumped on a tuk tuk and headed to the other side of the city i.e. ours and had drinks at the Raffles-owned Hotel Le Royale, which, as the name suggests, is like something out of a Bond movie. The Elephant Bar, where we drank, is the plushest (and potentially overpriced) joint in town, so we timed our landing to coincide with happy hour - cocktails $4 US or thereabouts; expensive by local standards, but stand-out cocktails.
With motivation waning we stumbled to a German and Swiss restaurant immediately behind the hotel and ate a very German meal - mostly meat. We didn't even finish the one beer we ordered between us and we're now back at the hotel, conveniently close to bed around 8:30.
Tomorrow we're off to Battambang, and I'm looking forward to 4 days of not much at all. We'll report again from there.
After an unexpectedly crazy Monday night c/o altruistic Canadians and a complete lack of self control we had a late start and barely managed to hold down breakfast (OK, that's an exaggeration, but I felt poorly). Finally making it out of here around 10.30 we caught the same tuk tuk driver and went to the Royal Palace. His tourist senses must have been sleeping because the damn thing was shut for the public holiday, Silver Pagoda and all. If we'd been less lazy and less desperate for a beer on any other given day we could have gone into it. Oh well.
Having failed (epic) on the Royal Palace thing, we did a lame tourists' walk around the boundary, taking a few snaps through the gates - it is quite a spectacular-looking compound - then went to the national museum which was, luckily, open. That was pretty cool overall, loaded with a bizarre mix of religious iconography and statues coming out of its jaxie.
We'd developed a thirst by then, and not quite ready for the demon drink we stopped in at a fantastic fruit juice/smoothie joint where we downed some much needed dragon fruit and tangerine drinks. Our planned walk took us past the Independence Monument once again, and soon enough we'd ended up at Ph 57, our latest favourite street. We were hunting some bar called 'Gasolina', but needing fuel for the journey we stopped at the Green Mango for lunch.
After an unsuccessful jaunt up part of 57 we returned to the scene of last night's debacle, or the beginning of it anyway, where Bec had initially seen the advertisement for the photo exhibition we'd been looking for. I had a beer and Bec had a passionfruit and Cambodian honey smoothie, which truly rocked, just for sake of appearances, before we headed off again seeking this mysterious Gasolina place.
Despite my misgivings, we continued along 57 well past the known tourist zone and eventually stumbled onto Gasolina, which turns out to be this fantastic garden bar/bed sit/art zone. We'd come specifically to see a photo display called 'Smile Cambodia' which set up 8 or 10 young kids living literally on a landfill in Phnom Penh with cameras and sent them out to document their city. The pics are awesome and incredibly emotive; we'll be buying a few things from them I reckon. I should also mention about the bar itself that seating primarily consisted of massive outdoor covered beds with massive pillows; if we'd arrived earlier I could have been in a lot of trouble.
Having had a Tiger and some crazy Belgian beer we jumped on a tuk tuk and headed to the other side of the city i.e. ours and had drinks at the Raffles-owned Hotel Le Royale, which, as the name suggests, is like something out of a Bond movie. The Elephant Bar, where we drank, is the plushest (and potentially overpriced) joint in town, so we timed our landing to coincide with happy hour - cocktails $4 US or thereabouts; expensive by local standards, but stand-out cocktails.
With motivation waning we stumbled to a German and Swiss restaurant immediately behind the hotel and ate a very German meal - mostly meat. We didn't even finish the one beer we ordered between us and we're now back at the hotel, conveniently close to bed around 8:30.
Tomorrow we're off to Battambang, and I'm looking forward to 4 days of not much at all. We'll report again from there.
Getting an edumacation in Cambodian history
Yesterday morning we started out bright and early by organising a tuk tuk driver who could take us around to various places and wait for us at each. The hotel reception told us that what we had in mind would cost around $US15, so we went outside prepared to haggle, but to our surprise the first tuk tuk driver we saw said he'd do it for $10. So we immediately agreed to this without any argument and we set off to the Vietnam Airlines office to see if we could have our lost plane tickets from Siem Reap to HCMC replaced (another story).
Our driver had a bit of trouble finding the place and stopped to ask various of his mates if they knew how to get there along the way, but finally we found it only to discover that, although yesterday wasn't a public holiday (today and tomorrow are), the office was closed anyway. So we still don't know how we're going to go with that, but we'll have to wait until Thursday to find out now.
After this our driver took us out to the Killing Fields, about 15km out of Phnom Penh and the site of mass murder by the Khmer Rouge. The centrepiece of the place is a giant enclosed temple with clear glass in the centre encasing hundreds and hundreds of skulls, many of them with gunshots, cracks from beatings with blunt objects and hacking from machetes. It was bloody horrible. The actual site is beautiful, surrounded by trees and lush green grass, but everywhere there are sunken holes where mass graves have been unearthed. There's not much in the way of information there, except for here and there a sign next to a tree stating that it was used for tying up children to beat them, or to rig up a sound device to drown out the sounds of the victim's moans. It was bloody horrible.
When we were leaving our tuk tuk driver told us that he didn't really like going out there because his father had to flee Phnom Penh during the regime because he was a university lecturer and anyone with any education was persecuted.
After this we went to the genocide museum, which was even worse if such a thing is possible. It's at the site of an old school which was converted into a detention centre by the Khmer Rouge and all the old classrooms were used for interrogation and torture. It's been pretty much untouched since and it's a horrible feeling to wander through rooms that saw so much cruelty. There was another room that went through the entire history of the regime, and it's hard to believe that all of this happened in our lifetimes (well, partly in mine - 1975-79). But the worst part for me was the rooms filled with the 'mug shots' of the victims. It was forbidden for them to cry, protest or complain, but you could see the fear and hopelessness in their eyes because they knew what was in store for them.
And then to top it all off when we came out and got back into our tuk tuk we were approached by a beggar who looked like he'd had acid thrown in his face or something, because all his skin was gone and half of his face with it. We didn't give him anything, because you're not really supposed to, but I felt worse than shit as we drove away and shed some tears as we continued on to our next destination.
After this we were in dire need of a beer or 10 to get over this whole experience, so we bid our driver goodbye and, with a bit of difficulty, eventually found a French restaurant recommended by the Lonely Planet Guide. This was definitely the highlight of the day - the food was absolutely awesome and better than anything we had when we were in France! George had a steak that was apparently very tasty, and I had grilled fish, and we also had some great desserts afterwards. Very very good, and highly recommended.
By the time we got out of there it was about 4.30 or thereabouts, so we decided to find a bar and settle in somewhere. Once again we fortuitously turned up right in time for happy hour (75c beers) and, although we'd only intended to be there for a drink or two, we got talking to a dude from Canada who has been working on a community project in Siem Reap with Habitat for Humanity, building houses for the poor. It sounds really interesting and something we might look into doing on our next holiday.
After many beers we stumbled on to another bar that had awesome $3.50 cocktails, so we had a couple of these each before deciding it was probably time to get back to our hotel and crash out (particularly since we hadn't had any dinner after our very big and very late lunch). We're a bit slow this morning, but we've only got a few more things to see today so we're going to take it easy. This is our last day here and we're sorry to leave, because we love it here. Although we loved Vietnam, we've decided that Cambodia kicks its arse all over the place. We were expecting it to be far less developed as a tourist destination than Vietnam, but it's heaps better, and easier, and friendlier, and this city is really beautiful - there's such a big French influence, and some of the boulevards wouldn't look out of place in Paris.
Tomorrow we get a bus to Battambang for another four days, but no doubt we'll check in again before we leave. The internet here might be slow, but it's free, and you can't kick a gift horse in the mouth as one slightly imbecilic person once said.
Seeya
Our driver had a bit of trouble finding the place and stopped to ask various of his mates if they knew how to get there along the way, but finally we found it only to discover that, although yesterday wasn't a public holiday (today and tomorrow are), the office was closed anyway. So we still don't know how we're going to go with that, but we'll have to wait until Thursday to find out now.
After this our driver took us out to the Killing Fields, about 15km out of Phnom Penh and the site of mass murder by the Khmer Rouge. The centrepiece of the place is a giant enclosed temple with clear glass in the centre encasing hundreds and hundreds of skulls, many of them with gunshots, cracks from beatings with blunt objects and hacking from machetes. It was bloody horrible. The actual site is beautiful, surrounded by trees and lush green grass, but everywhere there are sunken holes where mass graves have been unearthed. There's not much in the way of information there, except for here and there a sign next to a tree stating that it was used for tying up children to beat them, or to rig up a sound device to drown out the sounds of the victim's moans. It was bloody horrible.
When we were leaving our tuk tuk driver told us that he didn't really like going out there because his father had to flee Phnom Penh during the regime because he was a university lecturer and anyone with any education was persecuted.
After this we went to the genocide museum, which was even worse if such a thing is possible. It's at the site of an old school which was converted into a detention centre by the Khmer Rouge and all the old classrooms were used for interrogation and torture. It's been pretty much untouched since and it's a horrible feeling to wander through rooms that saw so much cruelty. There was another room that went through the entire history of the regime, and it's hard to believe that all of this happened in our lifetimes (well, partly in mine - 1975-79). But the worst part for me was the rooms filled with the 'mug shots' of the victims. It was forbidden for them to cry, protest or complain, but you could see the fear and hopelessness in their eyes because they knew what was in store for them.
And then to top it all off when we came out and got back into our tuk tuk we were approached by a beggar who looked like he'd had acid thrown in his face or something, because all his skin was gone and half of his face with it. We didn't give him anything, because you're not really supposed to, but I felt worse than shit as we drove away and shed some tears as we continued on to our next destination.
After this we were in dire need of a beer or 10 to get over this whole experience, so we bid our driver goodbye and, with a bit of difficulty, eventually found a French restaurant recommended by the Lonely Planet Guide. This was definitely the highlight of the day - the food was absolutely awesome and better than anything we had when we were in France! George had a steak that was apparently very tasty, and I had grilled fish, and we also had some great desserts afterwards. Very very good, and highly recommended.
By the time we got out of there it was about 4.30 or thereabouts, so we decided to find a bar and settle in somewhere. Once again we fortuitously turned up right in time for happy hour (75c beers) and, although we'd only intended to be there for a drink or two, we got talking to a dude from Canada who has been working on a community project in Siem Reap with Habitat for Humanity, building houses for the poor. It sounds really interesting and something we might look into doing on our next holiday.
After many beers we stumbled on to another bar that had awesome $3.50 cocktails, so we had a couple of these each before deciding it was probably time to get back to our hotel and crash out (particularly since we hadn't had any dinner after our very big and very late lunch). We're a bit slow this morning, but we've only got a few more things to see today so we're going to take it easy. This is our last day here and we're sorry to leave, because we love it here. Although we loved Vietnam, we've decided that Cambodia kicks its arse all over the place. We were expecting it to be far less developed as a tourist destination than Vietnam, but it's heaps better, and easier, and friendlier, and this city is really beautiful - there's such a big French influence, and some of the boulevards wouldn't look out of place in Paris.
Tomorrow we get a bus to Battambang for another four days, but no doubt we'll check in again before we leave. The internet here might be slow, but it's free, and you can't kick a gift horse in the mouth as one slightly imbecilic person once said.
Seeya
10 November 2008
Crashing the nation's biggest party
We have a knack for interesting timing - we discovered, purely by throngs of people on the streets, a carnival atmosphere and stalls, floats and promos everywhere that yesterday (Sunday) was Cambodia's Independence Day. It's also quickly approaching the water festival which apparently celebrates the reversing of the Mekong's flow.
After we'd finally made it out of here yesterday we somewhat lamely followed the Lonely Planet's walking tour of the city. It took us past some magnificent French colonial buildings and into some intense experiences, such as the city's biggest market, Psar Themei. This outdoor shanty market, leaning onto the sides of a circular indoor market, is a mass of smells, colours and activity, very much for locals. We saw the lot - live water snakes (a.k.a. eels, I'm told), live crabs, bizarre fruit and vegetables etc. It was intensified by the extremely low canvas roof that dropped filth water on my prone noggin and grubby water all over the place. Interesting nonetheless.
We contrasted this experience with the very middle class new shopping mall/centre which was hospital-hygenic next to Psar Themei. It was also entirely lacking in soul and reeked of decadence and ostentatious affluence. Most bizarre was the supermarket itself which seemed to be almost dedicated to baby and youth products, particularly food supplements that will help your baby grow up big and strong. It seems the wealthiest and healthiest Cambodians are either tall, fat or both, and it seems a sign of achievement to be such. I guess the country's history explains this in part; the many wars and genocidal leaders of recent decades have literally decimated the nation's age profile, such that elderly people are extremely few and far between. In fact, most of the elders appear to be monks. There seems to be a 'baby culture' where advertising is targeted very much on one's responsibility to raise healthy (read: big) children. But I digress.
The walk took us past a sculpture and carving sector where there was no end of Buddha statues and other cultural-religious iconography in various stages of construction and took a break with a tasty Khmer lunch at a place called Frizz (owned by an expat called Fritz, if you need an explanation). The culinary discovery of the day was Bec's green mango salad which was so loaded with flavour it could have been a vegetarian schnitzel. It rocked. It was mainly mango, of course, with fresh basil, chilli, dried shrimps and countless tasty herbs. My Khmer crepe rocked but paled in comparison.
We decided to bail from the walking tour following this late lunch and, of course, a refreshing but diverting beer. As a result we skipped the Royal Palace and Silver Pagoda until another day and instead tried to find the riverfront by walking down this boulevard that would have been empty if it weren't for literally hundreds of people setting up for an event of some kind. We quickly realised our way was blocked and the river inaccessible and, trying to find our way rapidly back to the well-trodden path ended up once again stumbling through a local-dominated scrub/swamp area that seemed to serve as the back operations for the independence day celebrations. Given our HCMC home invasion experience we made haste, stepping in a filth puddle or two on the way out.
Back on track we finally, and to much relief, made it back to the riverfront bars and restaurant area where we sat at the Pink Elephant for a couple until we realised the best thing about the place was the Engrish-heavy menu, replete with 'testy' dishes. Oh, how could I forget the other highlight - an unused tuk tuk was loaded with young Cambodians which was quickly abandoned when someone apparently dropped their guts, with much laughter and stage coughing. Funny.
We hightailed it back down the Quay a few shops and were astonished by the views afforded by the second floor balcony of the Foreign Correspondents' Club, a Phnom Penh institution. We snagged seats right by the balcony, fortuitously just as happy hour (half price cocktails) began and, to top things off, shortly before fireworks celebrating independence day were set to begin. We got talking with an Aussie and a couple from Siem Reap, our last destination here, and killed time (and brain cells) with tasty cocktails, before the fireworks and happy hour ended at 7. There was also meant to be a boat parade of sorts along the river, with boats all lit up and decked out with Government ministry symbols but apparently they could not make it past the Mekong flow, so we only saw these in the distance, being shoved around by the tide.
After some requisite traffic watching (the thousands of revellers on bikes and in cars turned Sithowath Quay into a one-way street - vehicular democracy in play), we settled back in at La Croissette where we'd quaffed cocktails our first night here. We had a relatively unmemorable dinner (except I had my long-craved cheeseburger) and tried to get a cheap tuk tuk back to the hotel, and ended up walking.
Anyhow, I've gone on long enough and have to talk to a man about a dog. Bec might have a few words. No, she doesn't.
Ciao
After we'd finally made it out of here yesterday we somewhat lamely followed the Lonely Planet's walking tour of the city. It took us past some magnificent French colonial buildings and into some intense experiences, such as the city's biggest market, Psar Themei. This outdoor shanty market, leaning onto the sides of a circular indoor market, is a mass of smells, colours and activity, very much for locals. We saw the lot - live water snakes (a.k.a. eels, I'm told), live crabs, bizarre fruit and vegetables etc. It was intensified by the extremely low canvas roof that dropped filth water on my prone noggin and grubby water all over the place. Interesting nonetheless.
We contrasted this experience with the very middle class new shopping mall/centre which was hospital-hygenic next to Psar Themei. It was also entirely lacking in soul and reeked of decadence and ostentatious affluence. Most bizarre was the supermarket itself which seemed to be almost dedicated to baby and youth products, particularly food supplements that will help your baby grow up big and strong. It seems the wealthiest and healthiest Cambodians are either tall, fat or both, and it seems a sign of achievement to be such. I guess the country's history explains this in part; the many wars and genocidal leaders of recent decades have literally decimated the nation's age profile, such that elderly people are extremely few and far between. In fact, most of the elders appear to be monks. There seems to be a 'baby culture' where advertising is targeted very much on one's responsibility to raise healthy (read: big) children. But I digress.
The walk took us past a sculpture and carving sector where there was no end of Buddha statues and other cultural-religious iconography in various stages of construction and took a break with a tasty Khmer lunch at a place called Frizz (owned by an expat called Fritz, if you need an explanation). The culinary discovery of the day was Bec's green mango salad which was so loaded with flavour it could have been a vegetarian schnitzel. It rocked. It was mainly mango, of course, with fresh basil, chilli, dried shrimps and countless tasty herbs. My Khmer crepe rocked but paled in comparison.
We decided to bail from the walking tour following this late lunch and, of course, a refreshing but diverting beer. As a result we skipped the Royal Palace and Silver Pagoda until another day and instead tried to find the riverfront by walking down this boulevard that would have been empty if it weren't for literally hundreds of people setting up for an event of some kind. We quickly realised our way was blocked and the river inaccessible and, trying to find our way rapidly back to the well-trodden path ended up once again stumbling through a local-dominated scrub/swamp area that seemed to serve as the back operations for the independence day celebrations. Given our HCMC home invasion experience we made haste, stepping in a filth puddle or two on the way out.
Back on track we finally, and to much relief, made it back to the riverfront bars and restaurant area where we sat at the Pink Elephant for a couple until we realised the best thing about the place was the Engrish-heavy menu, replete with 'testy' dishes. Oh, how could I forget the other highlight - an unused tuk tuk was loaded with young Cambodians which was quickly abandoned when someone apparently dropped their guts, with much laughter and stage coughing. Funny.
We hightailed it back down the Quay a few shops and were astonished by the views afforded by the second floor balcony of the Foreign Correspondents' Club, a Phnom Penh institution. We snagged seats right by the balcony, fortuitously just as happy hour (half price cocktails) began and, to top things off, shortly before fireworks celebrating independence day were set to begin. We got talking with an Aussie and a couple from Siem Reap, our last destination here, and killed time (and brain cells) with tasty cocktails, before the fireworks and happy hour ended at 7. There was also meant to be a boat parade of sorts along the river, with boats all lit up and decked out with Government ministry symbols but apparently they could not make it past the Mekong flow, so we only saw these in the distance, being shoved around by the tide.
After some requisite traffic watching (the thousands of revellers on bikes and in cars turned Sithowath Quay into a one-way street - vehicular democracy in play), we settled back in at La Croissette where we'd quaffed cocktails our first night here. We had a relatively unmemorable dinner (except I had my long-craved cheeseburger) and tried to get a cheap tuk tuk back to the hotel, and ended up walking.
Anyhow, I've gone on long enough and have to talk to a man about a dog. Bec might have a few words. No, she doesn't.
Ciao
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