Welcome back!
The journey to Kampot was on a coach that initially had a few engine problems, which required that our driver had to stop to replace the engines belt, on route. Notwithstanding that delay, we were soon on our way.
Emma and I chatted to a middle aged French couple, a bus driver and a nurse, who had elected to holiday in Cambodia as it was cheap. Another passenger who boarded was an alternatively dressed British woman sporting some impressive tattoos, with whom we struck up conversation. It emerged her name was Stella, and she’d been travelling for some considerable time, but on her own, unlike us.
The journey to Kampot was aesthetically impressive, and I speculated in my mind as to whether the fields which sped by us had once been utilised by the Khmer Rouge for forced labour, as we had learned about at S 21, and The Killing Fields. The countryside in Cambodia today is lush and idyllic. Sometimes the tarmac gives way to dirt roads, and the vehicles almost totally vanish in clouds of dust, rendering visibility very poor, but that was a minor irritant overall.
In total, the journey took on or abouts five hours. We arrived after dark, and Emma, Stella and I found ourselves standing outside of the coach, with a Tuk Tuk driver attempting to persuade us to give him a fare. Emma was pretty convinced we could locate a guesthouse within walking distance. Meanwhile, Stella was reprimanding the Tuk Tuk driver for touching her arm, when he spied her tattoos. Next, Stella was bartering the guy down on the cost of a fare to a guesthouse she wanted to stay at, which was across the river, and she bid us farewell.
Emma and I fished out our guide book, and asked for directions to a recommended guesthouse. Possibly pissed off that we weren’t interested in hiring his services, the Tuk Tuk driver sent us off in entirely the wrong direction, before he departed with Stella. The street lighting soon came to an end, and we rapidly realised that we were fast reaching the edge of town.
None the less, as luck would have it, we came across a cheap and cheerful guesthouse named The Cozy Elephant. We were afforded a great room with a balcony, from which we could observe the town, and the staff there spoke excellent English, and were very friendly. Somehow, despite all odds, we had landed on our feet yet again!
The view from our balcony
Some crazy plumbing work!
Over the next few days we variously explored Kampot, largely on foot. The French have left a vast array of colonial architecture across the town, which is complimented by a variety of monuments and statues erected by local people. Possibly my favourite was the Durian Statue, which is located on a roundabout. There are a number of statues on roundabouts, and we later ascertained that this is because many local people cannot read, and thus the statues enable people to describe to friends and family how to get around the area, on the roads.
The Durian statue
The Salt workers statue
The Vietnamese Friendship monument.
A river weaves through the town, upon which are located a variety of bars and restaurants, some of which are run by British Ex-Pats, variously playing rock and early eighties new wave music. Combine that with the sedentary nature of the place overall, the sun, cheesy mash potato dishes and the Black Panther Stout, Kampot was a place I rapidly fell in love with. It is very relaxed. Even a stroll past the local prison had all the prisoners in the gardens saying ‘Hello’, and giving us a cheery waves! Somewhat surreal to say the very least!
Old school ring pulls…
After a couple of days we booked a transport out of town to visit the former French casino, the kings former holiday retreat, and a Church. Most of the colonial buildings were taken over and/or ransacked in the days of the Khmer Rouge. None the less, they remain in existence, and the casino, despite standing empty, is particularly architecturally impressive.
The French Casino
Apparently if people lost too much money they would throw themselves off this cliff at the back of the Casino to commit suicide!!
In a bizarre turn of events, the minibus for the trip had been overbooked, so Emma and I were allocated a private car, which tailed the minibus, for the duration of the day. We shared the car with a lovely retired Canadian couple who spoke like characters in the movie ‘Fargo’, and described Cambodia as being “pretty neat”, in addition to congratulating us on the UK governments decision not to join the Euro!
The King’s Summer retreat
If that wasn’t strange enough, our tour guide for the day mistakenly concluded that Emma and I were Australian, and greeted us with “G’day Mate”, every time we met him. Moreover, the next thing we knew, an English guy named Craig strolled up to us, and said he recognised me from punk gigs in Birmingham. It transpired he was friends with punk groups GBH and Drongos for Europe, and was a professional photographer!
The old Police station.
Just as we thought the day couldn’t get anymore bizarre, we were taken up to the church where a large group of African Christians had gathered, all of whom were engaged in singing their praise for Jesus Christ, offering blessings, and generally rejoicing in the name of God. Not an everyday occurance in Cambodia, so we promptly cracked a beer, so as to make some sense of what was fast evolving into a weird and wonderful day.
Later that afternoon we took a boat trip up river, so as to take in the gorgeous countryside, and generally chill out. Highly recommended. All present thoroughly enjoyed the sunset and sighting the various fishing and other such boats which passed us by, prior to us all returning to the town for a spot of grub.
Captain Trent on board
The following day we again bumped into Stella, who introduced us to her friend Raphael. A lazy days drinking ensued. One bar which became a regular haunt boasted a bar cat and a member of staff named Visith, who spoke excellent English, and afforded us free shots of whiskey on quieter evenings.
Stella and Raphael
This kitten was so cute!!
Visith transpired to be ridiculously over qualified to be engaged in remunerative employment as a barman. He had attained at least two degrees, but explained that like many other young people in Cambodia, there simply weren’t employment opportunities available to reflect his educational qualifications. A lovely guy with a great taste in music. Sorely missed by us too. Bless him.
Visith on the left
Two Americans we met Trevor and Terri, what a great night out!
In total, Emma and I spent four nights in Kampot, and we had a thoroughly good time. The only bad thing I can recall occurring was that one evening Stella and Raphael thought their hired scooter had been stolen, but it later transpired it had been impounded, and it was a scam to obtain a fee for returning said scooter.
Stella speculated that the hire company was actually in on the entire swindle, but reluctantly had to dig deep in her pockets to reclaim the scooter. A seasoned veteran at travelling, she was of the view that it was a pointless waste of time involving the local police, and on a balance of probability, we were inclined to agree with her. Sometimes such annoyances just go with the territory, when you’re on the road.
Kampot was great all in all!
It was time for Emma and I to return to Phnom Penh, in an attempt to catch up with Koda, at The Lazy Gecko.
We planned to return there to stay for two nights, and then take a boat transport into neighbouring Vietnam.
More on what happened next, next post…
Trent */X
Lows, heights and mosquito bites! 