Cambodia

July 2000

The plan to reach Cambodia WAS this. I would get up around 4am, pack and walk down to Eric�s (the unluckiest Swede in the world) hotel to pick him up. We would return to the bus stop where Jo would be waiting. We would get a local bus downtown, walk a kilometre to the train station and catch the 5.55am train to the border. It all went terribly wrong!

We had a very late night on the Internet until 2am, went to get something to eat and I dropped off to sleep watching a movie after 3am. I slept through my alarm and woke at 4.40am, packed, showered and was out by 5.05am. Jo was in a foul mood and more concerned with taping wads of dollars inside her underwear (in case of the infamous Cambodian bandits) and refused to get her act together � because of course, a train will wait for you! I left her saying I would meet her at the train station (of course she swears blind that we were sticking to the original plan � but it was impossible with less than an hour). I started walking down to Eric but by 5.20am, I gave up and started heading back to the bus stop. The first bus to pass me, was going to the train station and I jumped on, expecting Jo to have caught it. She was not on board. She must have taken a taxi, I thought. I had also told Eric that if I was not with him by 5.15am to get a taxi too. He also seems to have forgotten the contingency plan.

When I arrived at the train station around 5.45am. Neither was to be seen. I bought a ticket and hopped on. At 5.55am on time, the train pulled out of the station and I decided to stay put. They both turned up separately at the station around 6.30am, could not find me and decided to try again the next day. It would take two days before I finally stumbled upon Jo. Throughout this trip she has had had a bad record of making early connections � doing all those things that women do � but all public transport in SE Asia leaves very early so you have no choice. I made the deadline. The other two didn�t. End of story (although I had to grovel later!).

The 5-hour train journey ($1US) to Aranyaprathet was only 3rd class, but comfortable enough, looking through the breezy open windows at the endless paddy fields and flat green agricultural scenery. I teamed up with an Italian couple and we got a motor rickshaw 5km to the border crossing of Poipet. Out of Thailand with no problems and then a long wait while one Cambodian official dealt with everyone coming through. He looked through every page of everyone�s passport and had to apply three separate stamps over the visa (nice work if you can get it, especially while everyone hung around sweating in the heat � my sweat dripped over my visa which wasn�t popular). I had been told of an immigration scam here whereby they asked you for a �Cholera certificate� (which no longer exist in the West). No certificate? then $5 for 2 pills to take care of it. But they seemed too busy today to bother with it. I also met an Englishman called Jeremy on a 4-month tour of SE Asia.

The place looked a shambles. Crowds of people wading through the muddy street, trucks backed up waiting to cross and locals pushing gravity defying (20ft high), heavy sacks of produce on barrows along the rutted mud. They could hardly push them and the carts leaned over at �its about to go!� angles. Puddles of water everywhere and dust in your face in the midday heat. The ugliest border crossing yet. Not even a �Welcome to Cambodia� sign.

The way to reach Siem Reap overland is with a 4-wheel drive pickup truck along a non-existent road. Various people approached us with offers of $5. A dodgy character �working alone and not with a company. They do not want me here because I am cheapest� offered us a ride for $2.50. Sounded too cheap, and when Jeremy asked if he could join us got a �not enough room� reply � strange, because they pack these pickups like sardines. But what the hell, let�s see what happens. We followed him through the muddy street to where some motorbike riders waited. �You jump on board. My pickup is at the bus station�. Stranger still � all the trucks were at the border. Suddenly a large woman approached him and started yelling and battering him about the head with her umbrella. He was chased off into the crowd and we tramped back to Jeremy to board his pick up at the set price.

It cost $5 to ride in the back and $7 to ride in the cab. I paid for the terrible forthcoming stomach churning, 6-hour, edge of your pants stuff ride in the back. But they had overbooked and by the time the Japanese, Italian and other tourists had clambered aboard (12 of them in total), sitting on their backpacks or on the hard metal edge of the truck, there was no room for me. �You sit in the front. Same cost�, the driver whispered. So I lucked into a much more comfortable ride than anticipated.

It�s difficult to describe a road that doesn�t exist. It is the only road in from Thailand but was blown up by landmines, has never been repaired for two decades and is not really a road. Just a orange dusty strip full of potholes everywhere. These are serious potholes � 30ft across and 4 feet deep. And they were everywhere. The pickups attempt to go around them but in the end, either launch themselves down and out of them or around the edge with two wheels skirting them. Since it was the rainy season, they were now ponds! The first 50km (averaging about 20km an hour) were the roughest track my backside has been privileged to sit through (and I had a padded seat in the cab!). Within 30 minutes, the Italians were screaming to be let into the cab � whatever it cost and joined me. The rest of the heroes wore face masks to protect themselves from the dust thrown up from passing trucks not to mention the water being launched skywards as we tore through the potholes, and clung on for dear life.

After 50km the surface resumed intermittedly and the potholes were spaced about 100m apart. This allowed the driver to pick up speed, regardless of the obstacles which he either hit or missed depending on his attention. The road crossed various streams over rickety wooden bridges (or on one, just two planks of wood wide enough for the wheels). Local �bandits� charge a �toll� for the crossing at numerous bridges. They stick a plank of wood up at the bridgehead and until a sufficient bribe has been handed over, it stays up. Its called �enterprise� in Cambodia. The pickup drivers are used to the daily routine, but our driver dropped his money on the ground in a �how long do you think you can get away with this shit?� gesture. For evermore I�d say, until the Government rebuilds the road and bridges (which were all destroyed).

I quite enjoyed the thrilling ride, especially turning around watching the terror and agony of the poor sods behind me behind the glass window. The front passengers sitting by the driver were a Japanese couple. He had a great sense of humour. When I said I was from England, he stuck out his hand �My name�s Bond. James Bond� (in a Japanese accent). The scenery was flooded paddy fields (we might as well have been driving through them), cows, packs of dogs snapping at the wheels and pigs wallowing in the mud. The local trucks looked strange. They all had cut down cabs (i.e. the driver sat in front with no windscreen) and were very old. There were no petrol stations. Stalls sold 2 litre bottles of cheap Vietnamese petrol in bottles for the motorbikes or had a metal tank for the pickups/trucks.

As we approached Siem Reap, lightening storms cascaded over the darkening skies. Darkness fell, but we made it before the rainstorm. We pulled into a comfortable guesthouse and Jeremy and I took a double room (made a change to sleep with a male � at least the bathroom was always free!). In the bar/restaurant we teamed up with the Italians and a loud funny 23-year-old Canadian � Matt.

I needed email to contact Jo, but the few places charging a ridiculous $2 for 10 minutes were all down. Walking along the dark streets I was offered women, massages and drugs by the �moto� riders (moped taxis). I must have looked a sorry sight in the rain. Lonely guy from out of town. The pickup/guesthouse rep said he was going back out to the border tomorrow. He would see Jo coming through since they all waited at passport control. I gave him a description and a note to hand to Jo saying get on his truck.

Cambodia is still recovering from two decades of warfare and violence. It is about half the size of Italy. One of the poorest countries in SE Asia, 80% of the 11 million population are employed in agriculture. All fuel, most raw materials and consumer goods are imported. Timber is the main export. Public toilets are non existent. Essential language to know: Johm riab sua (hello), aw kohn (thank you) and LANDMINE!

Siem Reap (see-EM ree-EP meaning �Siamese defeated�) is the tourist base to visit the Angkor temple ruins. These were built between the 9th and 13th centuries when the Khmer civilisation was at the height of its extraordinary creativity. At its peak, it had a population of 750,000 people. It is unparalleled in SE Asia (though the ruins in Bagan run a close second) and they rate among the architectural wonders of the world. The hundred remaining temples constitute what is left of the spectacular administrative and religious centre. Rediscovered in the 19th century, the jungle had reclaimed everything and it was like a �lost world�.

The ruins lie about 8km from town and everyone rents a �moto� for the day at $6 to get run around the complexes. Except me. I walked everywhere. It gave me a much better idea of scale (my legs soon found out just how big it was), and the hot humidity gave the body a work out. For $40 you can purchase a 3 day ticket (and you need this time to explore it thoroughly).

Angkor Wat is the largest and best preserved of the monuments (1150AD), built as a funerary temple for a king and facing westwards � symbolically the direction of death. The scale was colossal. The moat was 190m wide, and the entrance porch 235m wide. It was entered via a vast sandstone causeway and the towering stone edifices looked spectacular. Around the base were 800m of extraordinary bas-reliefs which depicted mythological scenes such as the �Churning of the Ocean of Milk�. This was a massive tug of war between 88 devils on the left and 92 gods on the right, trying to force immortality onto their side.

The fortified city of Angkor Thom, 10-km square in area had another 100m wide moat and 5 monumental entrance gates, 20 metres high. These were crowned with 4 massive faces of the Bodhisettua Avalokiteshvara facing in the cardinal directions. In front of each gate stood giant statues � 54 gods on the left and 54 devils on the right. Inside the wooded complex, were numerous remnants of which �The Bayon� and �Terrace of Elephants� were the best. The Bayon was a collection of 54 gothic towers decorated in over 200 icily smiling, gargantuan faces of the Bodhisettua Avalokiteshvara) looking at you from every angle. At the base were 1200m of bas-reliefs incorporating over 11,000 figures. The Terrace of Elephants was 350m long and used as a giant reviewing stand for public ceremonies. Large stone elephant reliefs covered the entire base.

On my first day, I must have walked over 20 miles. The female security personnel called me �Mr Handsome� (shortsightedness is another obvious problem in Cambodia). I tried taking short cuts through the jungle (not a good idea with landmines, but I stuck to well marked trails) and ended up getting spiders� webs in my face, going round in circles or found un-crossable rivers. I hitched a couple of rides on the back of mopeds with security guards. As I returned to Angkor Wat, there was a massive rainstorm, after which a beautiful rainbow appeared over it. Magical.

That night, I stumbled across Jo (both of us looking for email). She had arrived the day before, but had caught a different pickup. Ironically, she was staying in the guesthouse next to mine 200m away! She had Eric in tow. They had also spent the day in the ruins but it was so large, I had not bumped into them.

We decided to visit the ruins of Banteay Srei 40km away. These were, until recently, off limits because of Khmer Rouge guerrilla activity. Jo and Eric rented �moto drivers� while Jeremy, Matt and I pedalled along muddy red tracks with landmine clearance trucks passing us (not a good sign!). Even Coca-Cola had sponsored landmine guidance billboards. What to do if you find a landmine � put a stick over it and go and get a policeman. What to do if you find yourself surrounded by landmines. Stay put and keep yelling for help (also buy a coke to pass the time). With the weather so hot, sticky and humid, I cycled past the paddy fields and wooden huts on stilts, with my shirt off, much to the enjoyment of small children and women who yelled �who�s that fat bloke on the bike?� (in Cambodian).

Banteay Srei �the citadel of Women�, was a small but ornate 10th century Hindu monastery, carved from pink sandstone and the most finely sculptured work in the whole area. After 2 and a half-hours to reach it, we spent all of 30 minutes there (including a picnic in the sun) before returning. On the way back, the skies turned black and a deluge proceeded. I took shelter under a wooden shack with a yappy dog, 3 chickens and a large pig sleeping in the mud. After 45 minutes of terrible thunder and lightening and about a foot of water, I felt like joining him. For the remaining two hours, I pedalled home through flooded roads. Next time, remind me to hire a �moto�.

For our final day, Jo, Eric and I rented bicycles to finish off touring the main sites. Eric�s unlucky streak continued. Today he left his camera at a drinks stall, and his bicycle broke down so he was forced to get a moto rider to bring it back to town for him on the back of the moped. Finally, when he was eating at a market stall in the evening, it blew down in the rainstorm. Stay at home mate. Try Norway next time!.

The final site worth mentioning is Ta Prohm � the �jungle temple�. This has been left pretty much as the rest of the whole complex was rediscovered, covered in trees and jungle. �The whole temple is choked in dappled shadow, the crumbling towers and walls are locked in the slow muscular embrace of vast root systems� (Lonely Planet). Much of it was impassable for the piles of collapsed debris, and creeping plants sprouting everywhere. It was a lovely sight that put the rest of the ruins in the context of their surroundings.

We found the Cambodian people very friendly, but I have never seen so many amputees anywhere. Men with one arm, or one leg, sometimes no legs. Lots of them shuffled down the streets begging. At Angkor Wat, a tiny skinny old woman hobbled past. When I turned to look at her, I realised that she had no feet. She was walking on the stumps of her ankles. When I did a double take, I noticed that she had no hands either. A tragic sight, but she was getting on with her life. Another strange sight in this country is that of pigs riding mopeds! On many occasions, I would see a driver with a large fat 4-5ft long porker strapped horizontally behind him on the seat with its legs sticking up in the air. Sometimes behind the pig there was another passenger (to keep it company?). They were either on their way to or from market.

Cambodian food was tasty but with no Chinese population, the recipes were missing something. Pork and egg soup, fish head soup, beef, rice and veg, pork, rice and veg etc. The best things were the baguettes: fresh long bread rolls filled with meat and salad. So nice to taste bread again.

To get to the capital of Phnom Penh involved another $4, 9 hour ride on a pickup truck along equally bad roads. This time I sat in the back with Eric, while Jo cowered in the driver`s cab. We were lucky in that there were only 5 of us in the back which meant that I could stretch out over the backpacks. But with the endless potholes and rutted track, we were thrown around and I was black and blue from bruises caused by slamming into the sides of the truck. It was horrendously hot and dusty. The hot air blew in our faces and I was covered in dirt, but I got a good suntan! I saw enough paddy fields to last me a lifetime. An experience not to be missed! NOT!

Phnom Penh is rather like an overgrown market town. There are few high rise buildings. The dusty wide, grid design streets left from its French colonial heritage were packed with motorbikes �Ethe preferred cheapest method of travel, rapidly replacing the bicycle rickshaws. These were strange contraptions. You sat in a bathchair in front, and the driver pedalled from behind, raised above you. We saw moped gridlock on many occasions. It was very easy to orientate yourself with the roadsigns (unless you were Swedish; Eric constantly got lost and he then ran out of money. As his patron saints we found him a bank where he could replenish his funds). But there were an awful lot of beggars on the streets who bothered us while eating at outside cafes.

A Moto rider took us out to the infamous `Killing Fields`. En route, we stopped at a firing range to try out some of the local hardware. You can fire handguns, M-50s, M-60s, throw a live grenade($15) and even launch a missile at a live cow ($500 - not that we were offered this delicacy). We settled for 30 rounds with an AK-47 ($20) and fired at a target about 100ft away in a sandbagged alley. I managed to shoot one bullseye, an instructor and a tourist. Had to be done. Having dealt with our stress levels we approached the Genocide Centre of Choeung Ek, known world-wide as the Killing Fields and made famous by a movie of the same name.

Cambodia`s indigenous rebels, the Khmer Rouge took over the country 2 weeks before Saigon fell in April 1975. Upon taking Phnom Penh under the leadership of Pol Pot, they implemented one of the most radical, brutal restructuring of a society ever attempted. Its goal was the transformation of Cambodia into a Maoist, peasant-dominated agrarian co-operative�E (Lonely Planet). During the next four years, hundreds of thousands of Cambodians, including the vast majority of the country`s educated people, were relocated to the countryside, tortured to death or executed. Up to 2 million people (from a 9m pop) died due to these policies. At the end of 1978, Vietnam invaded Cambodia and the Khmer Rouge fled to the jungles where it continued to maintain a guerrilla warfare over the next two decades. They are still there, but gradually being undermined and flushed out.

Between 1975 and 1978, about 17,000 men, women and children (including 9 westerners) were detained and tortured at the S-21 prison and then transported to the extermination camp of Choeung Ek. They were bludgeoned to death to save on the bullets. The remains of nearly 9000 people were exhumed from mass graves here in 1980. 8000 skulls (many still with blindfolds over the eyes) were arranged by sex and age and sat on platforms in a glass memorial tower in the centre of the site. It was a sobering experience to walk around and see human bones and clothing sticking out of the ground and signs at mass graves saying �E66 bodies without heads discovered here�E

We then visited the S-21 Prison in the centre of town. Now the Tuol Sleng Museum, it was a former high school, taken over by the Khmer Rouge and converted into a detainment/torture centre. There were many gruesome photos of people being tortured and thousands of photos of victims. The Cambodian version of Auschwitz. One tactic to intimidate people was to move in their families too and start torturing them first. The classrooms had been reconverted to contain hundreds of tiny brick or wooden cells inside �Ebarely large enough to lie down. Outside these 4 story structures, the balconies were covered in barbed wire to stop the prisoners from jumping off and committing suicide. There was also a large map of Cambodia made from human skulls.

The list of `regulations` which the prisoners had to obey was still posted:

The National Museum in Phnom Penh was nothing special. One of the major problems with the Angkor ruins is that much of it is being looted to sell to antique collectors. We were hoping that the Museum would contain some good quality artefacts from Angkor, but it obviously got nicked by the Europeans before they got a look in.

Despite guidebook warnings telling everyone that Cambodia is unsafe (landmines), dangerous (bandits) and not fit for human habitation, there were now plenty of tourists heading here. It was certainly gearing itself up as a viable excursion from Bangkok (most people fly) to see the Angkor ruins. I enjoyed Cambodia as did everyone else I met. It is a tourist dark horse for the future.

Last word from Cambodia: A newspaper report told of hundreds of villagers storming a local jail which held a 3x rapist. They dragged him out and kicked and stabbed him to death. Then a woman cut off his penis "into pork sausage sized chunks". You've got to love these guys! The same Vietnamese newspaper reported that Japanese suicide rates had "jumped" 13% last year.

Costs in Cambodia for 8 days (in British Pounds Sterling)

Travel - £13.18