Hey! How’s it going? Pleased you’re back with us!!
Emma and I caught a transport back to Phnom Penh, and said our farewells to Kampot. The return journey was the exact route we had prior taken several days earlier, not that either of us complained; the Cambodian countryside is a delight to behold, as it passes you by.
A brief convenience stop included our coach driver venturing into a diner and re-appearing with two live ducks. I stood smoking a cigarette as I watched him carry said birds to the coach, and he then opened up the luggage compartment, on the side of the vehicle. In two swift moves he broke their necks and deposited the deceased ducks, in a bag, inside. No prizes for guessing what he was eating for dinner with his family that night!
As we approached the centre of Phnom Penh, one of the female passengers began exhibiting erratic behaviour. Initially she began standing in the aisle, staring vacantly into space. Next she began to look very uncomfortable and anxious. Thereafter she was unable to resist the compulsion to re-arrange all of the curtains on the coach any longer. It was fairly obvious that she with suffering with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder; each and every curtain had to be tied in exactly the same way, regardless of the wishes of the individual passengers who were seated next to them.
Emma and I felt sorry for the woman. It was apparent that her mental health was poor. Emma re-tied our curtains in the same way that she was adjusting each and every one on the coach, before she returned to where we were seated. The woman paused and stared at them, before proceeding to adjust the curtains behind us. By the time our coach had come to a stand still, she was in a catatonic state, seated at the back. Concerned passengers attempted to aid her by offering her water. She was entirely unresponsive. I wondered quite what was going on in her mind, as I attempted to empathise with her.
A crew member went to her assistance. The woman stood up and attempted to leave the coach, but froze midway down the vehicle. It was a difficult situation, as Emma and I were stood behind her, and she was blocking our exit. We elected to wait patiently until we were finally able to pass her. Outside the standard Tuk Tuk carnage raged, as drivers sought fares.
The woman was going through a terrible ordeal. It was a timely reminder of how lucky we are to have mental health services in the west. Variously Emma and I witnessed local people exhibiting mental health disorders in South East Asia. There is precious little health care for physical disorders, never mind mental health. The last we saw of her, the woman was sitting at the front of the coach, trembling, and rocking her head. We emerged outside, retrieved our backpacks, and fought through the crowds. It was the last we ever saw of our distressed fellow passenger.
We returned to Street 258, and checked into a mediocre guesthouse, which was cheap and cheerful. A statue of the Buddha was located in the reception. A young male member of staff, with a tongue in cheek sense of humour, explained it was disrespectful to touch the head of the statue. He then added “So I slap him round the face all the time”, and proceeded to do so! He asked us where we were from? Upon stating “England” he laughed and added “I love the way you English say ‘Yes, please'”, with emphasis on the pronunciation of the word please.
Street 258
Moments later we were asked if we were ready to check in? Emma and I replied “Yes please” in synchronisation, without thinking about it. The guy laughed out loud and said “See what I mean?” He was somewhat of a joker. We were taken to our room – yet another room with a view of a brick wall! After resting, we went outside. The local Tuk Tuk Drivers recognised us, and were quite a friendly bunch.
One particular Tuk Tuk Driver was named Mr Lucky. His business card proudly proclaimed ‘Welcome to my Tuk Tuk’, and he often wore a T-shirt that stated ‘No Water For Sick Buffalo’, not that Emma and I had a clue what that was meant to mean?! On other occasions Lucky wore a T-shirt which said ‘Beer Patrol’, and he would stroll up and down the street observing what people were drinking, alcohol wise, and then shout out the name of your respective alcoholic beverage, as he passed by. Lucky is a nice guy. If you should need anything in Phnom Penh, then Mr Lucky is your man…
Mr Lucky
Upon our return, our major objective was to take young Koda out for a drink. We sauntered up to The Lazy Gecko, and spoke to her. I envisaged that we would take her to one of the other bars on the street, so she could escape from her work place. Koda explained that it was the Lunar New Year, Tet, over the following days, and would we like to go to a party hosted by her family?
Unfortunately, we had prior booked our boat trip to Vietnam by that point, so we had to decline. None the less, Koda agreed to have a drink with us once she had finished her shift, and instructed us to return around Ten PM, explaining that provided it was sufficiently quiet, she would be able to have a drink with us. We rocked back up there at around Nine, and ordered a beer.
As Ten approached, and to our surprise, Koda carried plastic chairs and a table across the street, and positioned them next to the parked up Tuk Tuks, whose drivers were largely killing time playing cards. Koda then proceeded to usher Emma and I across the road, asked us to sit down, and then produced a bag full of cans of beer! I explained that it was us who wanted to buy her a drink, but Koda was unperturbed, enquiring whether I wanted whiskey instead?! Her generosity knew no bounds, and I doubt that she was earning a huge amount of money.
Out drinking Cambodian Style..
I was initially a little concerned that sitting on a dark road, drinking on the street with a motley crew of Tuk Tuk drivers, might not be a good idea. On the other hand, Koda seemed too genuine to be lulling us into a false sense of security, so we ran with it. I asked one of Koda’s colleagues if there was any chance of buying beer from inside The Lazy Gecko, despite the fact that the bar had by now long closed? He instead took me up the road to a female street vendor, who agreed to sell me beer. I counted the number of Tuk Tuk drivers who were sitting adjacent to us, and bought them a can of beer each!
On cue, upon my return, I felt a tap on my shoulder, as I was dishing the cans of beer out. Turning round, I laughed as I discovered it was Mr Lucky! ‘Well timed and well named!’ I thought to myself, as I gave him the last can. Unfortunately that meant that I did not have a can left for Emma, who promptly advised Lucky that he had better enjoy it! We sat drinking with Koda and the guys into the early hours. It was a great night, Cambodian style.
Who needs expensive bars when you’re befriended by local people? Koda was lovely. Later Emma and I made a resolve to pay for her to visit us in England, should we ever win the lottery. Fingers crossed we do win Koda, it would be great to meet up with you again, at some point in the future…
The following day we donned our backpacks, said our farewells to the Tuk Tuk Drivers, who shouted their thanks for the prior nights cans of beer, and we next made for the jetty. We had variously heard that a land crossing into Vietnam could be characterised by bribes and corruption, so taking a boat seemed like a sensible idea. Our chartered boat was reasonably small, but modern and efficient. Our fellow passengers were largely white middle class, middle aged, tourists.
Captain Trent on board
Emma and I weren’t sure if we had timed our visit to Vietnam very well, due to Tet. Unlike the Cambodians, the Vietnamese celebrate Tet for an entire week, and we had been warned that many shops and businesses close down for the entire duration. Moreover, we had also been told that the Vietnamese can be quite feisty, and neither of us had any idea if we might encounter any hostility from the locals, as a consequence of the infamous war.
None the less, we rolled with our fortunes as our boat docked for immigration, when we reached the border. You initially check out of Cambodian territory, which was pain free for us. However, another British couple encountered difficulty, as the woman had over stayed her visa. The Cambodian border guards hiked the price of the individual days she had over stayed, yet despite her partner protesting, they were obliged to pay the inflated price.
The Cambodian Border post
Thereafter, we were ferried by boat to the Vietnamese Immigration Office, which is a floating affair, where you dock, depart the boat, and surrender your passport as you are processed. We had to wait for almost an hour, but there is a bar, so you can relax, drink a can of beer, and watch the world pass by on the river. The next thing we knew our passports were returned, and we were back on the boat, and heading up the Mekong into Vietnam itself!
The Vietnamese border post
I became quite excited at the prospect of entering Vietnam, so shot outside to snap a photograph. I hadn’t realised quite how fast our boat was moving, so lost my hat to a gust of wind. The last I saw of it was it floating on the water behind us. It’s probably now being worn by a Mekong fisherman. A very stylish fisherman, I might add….
The infamous sunset photo which cost Trent his hat..
Views along the Mekong.
Disappointed at the loss of my hat, I made a resolve not to dwell on it. Emma and I docked at Chau Doc, and strolled out on to the streets. A busy and colourful market place greeted us, but unlike Cambodia, few people were able to speak to us in English.
Chau Doc
The streets were rammed with people, the roads awash with scooters carrying entire families, babies, and literally anything of size or substance that could feasibly be attached to them, by any means necessary.
Child seat, what child seat?
Baby seat, what baby seat?
The local people were in frantic preparation for the following evenings Tet festivities. It occurred to Emma and I that for the first time in our lives we would get to celebrate the New Year twice in one month!
View from our balcony
We checked into a budget guesthouse, and settled in, as we awaited Tet with eager anticipation…
A classic hotel warning sign.
The very stylish ‘Ben 10’ blankets…
More next post…
Trent */X
Lows, heights and mosquito bites! 