Not yet Vacation

On February 9, 2007, I was driving Adam’s bike to pick up a package from my mother that was sent in November. Twenty-five meters down the road I saw a white dude with a big backpack getting a ride up Hai Dang. Unusual sight, unless of course that white dude with a big backpack is your friend. Ian Roger had arrived in Vung Tau. He made it by 11:30 am by taking the overnight bus, which would not be nearly as nice as a greyhound overnight. So we did the chill thing and got foot massages for good measure before work. After work we had to show Ian what the night life is like in Vung Tau. This of course was a bad idea, two of us having to teach class at 7:45. However, we managed to pull it off both days. The second night we joined a random picnic with 8 or so Vietnamese youths, and enough food to feed half the city of Vung Tau. You just never see a picnic on a blue tarp with 8 youths and a bunch of hot pots in the city park on the sidewalk in Canada.
On Sunday we lucked out because both of our afternoon classes had been postponed until after Tet, so we could take an earlier bus to Saigon and sort things out. We needed to find a taxi to drive five people to Moc Bai, and then meet Sir Alex MacIntosh in the great city. After asking tour operators, we discovered it best to haggle with the taxi driver ourselves. It was not difficult to convince one of the drivers to go 140 km to the Cambodian border for $50, however we were gunning for $30. So we waited until the next day to worry about that. For the evening we went back to Cao Dat (the apartment belonging to Suzie and Meg which was basically given to us for our stay) and waited for Al. And when he arrived, we were able to start celebrating.
Saigon is a good place for celebrating especially when you’ve rented motorbikes for the night in order to get ourselves around in the messy, messy Saigon traffic (though it opens up at night). So we navigated ourselves around town for the evening, visiting the usual hotspots, and testing out some new waters, where we were pleased to find a bar with a great taste in art, and a comfy lounge feel. It was called Insomnia, which is what that entire city really is, and we eventually made it home by 4 am, which is quite an early night. All we had to do the next day was travel.
Monday morning we met Rudi at Chi’s café for a meal, booked ourselves a taxi and made tracks, for $35. An uneventful ride to the border by Vietnamese standards, where we dealt with the usual visa/passport/immigration thing and find ourselves the task of finding a mini-bus to drive us to Phnom Penh (pronounced Pnom Pen) for as few dollars as possible, just because, over here it’s just right to barter all the time. It was also getting towards the end of the day for border crossings, so the pickens’ were slim. We eventually settled for $50 for five of us in 12 passenger bus. Which put us at Boeng Kak Lake district (try communicating that to a Cambodian taxi driver when your knowledge of the Khmer language is a combined total of nil) at about 7:30 pm. Our doubtless leader Ian was able to recall his last travels around PP, and found us the Smile Lakeside Guesthouse which sold us double bed rooms for $4 (not at all trying the conceal the $4 room look). The pool table was also lackluster. So after a day of traveling, we pretty much all made bed early.
Ian was to meet Miriam at 7:30 or something ridiculously early like that. They returned for the morning, but were on their way to by 1 pm. And so the four others went to see if we could achieve the bikes one day earlier than we registered for. This proved out to be impossible, so we went back to Boeng Kak and found a new guesthouse with a bumpin’ chill area, hammocks, decent pool table and the sweet bowl shaped chairs with comfy cushions. We spent the afternoon indulging in all of them.
We took the evening to enjoy a few of the local businesses. We checked out the bikes, and then visited some of Rudi’s known places, Sharky’s and California 2, and finally got a massage to prepare us for the long journey ahead. Though, it proved another relatively early night because the next day was the first day of driving.

Day 1 – Four on Three
At 9:30 we arrived at the bike shop to grab hold of our bikes. Standing up to enormous amounts or torturing him to get his own bike, Al hopped on the back of my bike, and we were whisked by escort into Phnom Penh traffic on engines twice the engine size as any previous bike I had ever driven. Though I’ve found it is not terribly difficult to get used bikes. And eventually we made the city limits, and had a two lane hard-topped highway lying 345 km or so in front of us.
Driving in Cambodia is quite different as you may expect. Though not extremely different from it’s neighbour Vietnam’s traffic, the appearance of cows on any road in the entire country is quite a sight. And though the drive is not extremely difficult in its complexity from Phnom Penh to Kampong Thom (our day 1 destination), simply trying to confirm directions with the locals is a hilarious occasion, often leading to even more uncertainty. But it really wasn’t any trouble to find our way, and we found ourselves in a sweet hotel called the Anrunras Hotel (never book yourselves in this hotel, more on that later) sometime in the late afternoon. We cleaned up, I bought a face shield for my helmet (driving in Cambodia consists of inhaling a lot of dust without one), and we sat down for dinner, realizing that we hadn’t eaten since breakfast. So, famished, we tore down some bottles of Angkor Beer and ordered a massive meal each. This two meal thing was to become a habit for riding days.
We tried to get Al a new face shield without luck, and to find a store to buy driving gloves at, which was a success. Then we retired to hangout in the hotel rooms. Nerdy old me decided to take a look at the map, and figure out distances, since driving 142 km was a good day of driving even on good roads, let alone the trash we were planning on riding. I determined that to do all that we essentially wanted to do, it would have been quite the trek, and more than the 10 days we had. We had been shown an additional route that was supposed to be spectacular, and had added it on to the original Cardamom Mountains/Koh Kong journey. However both would be impossible. And after much discussion, it was determined that the second part may be too difficult, especially with a double on one bike. So we created a new route which included going to the Mekong River, and possibly boating down it. After another meal, we headed to bed.

Day 2 – Three on Three
We arose quite early to hit the road, knowing that the midday sun is extremely intense. We sorted out the morning details and some breakfast. We filled up the tanks, and were off. Tragedy struck.
Al informs me that he’s not sure his money belt is with us. It wasn’t around his body. It wasn’t in his backpack. Forty-one kilometers back, and it wasn’t in the pillowcase he had placed it in the night before. There had only been one person in the room since we left, so she had it. Right? Well, the hotel does have a policy that if you leave something in the hotel when you leave the hotel, it is not the hotel’s responsibility. And the manager at the time most definitely believed that his employee of five years did not have to face up, because it was not the hotel’s responsibility. After much conversation and discovering that they were not going to help out Al, we discovered that they truly were not going to help Al. So he was toast. He had to head back to Phnom Penh to sort things out with the embassy. Not the vacation he had planned. A good bye lunch and the journey had changed significantly, and this was only day 2.
As Al whisked off toward the police station, we forged onto the tourist mecca of Siem Reap, and the epic Angkor Wat. Same type of drive on the highway, with a massive amount of bicyclers as we approached town. We had to drive in the dark down the busy streets to find a hotel, which wasn’t necessarily pleasant. We did find a hotel named Mommy’s Geusthouse that was suitable. We hung out in the guesthouse’s magnificent aura, and took it easy, because we wanted to get a good day in at Angkor Wat.

Day 3 – Angkor Wat
Having sorted out a tuk-tuk the previous night (a tuk tuk is a motorbike taxi, where the taxi part is either one or two bench seats, tacked on to the back of a motorbike. It can be a wagon, or a structure actually attached to the bike), all we had to do was have some breakfast and get a ride to the temple. The tuk tuk would drive us from temple to temple all day for $12. When we arrived, it was a zoo. The battle is to not pay attention to the thousands of tourists, tuk tuk’s, buses, and Khmers trying to sell you stuff, and just pay attention to the building and its surroundings.
Angkor Wat is big. It has a moat around it that is at least 190 meters wide. So you cross this massive bridge, and come to the gates, which is just the entrance to the outer regions. Angkor Wat begins as a wall, then inside the wall is a great open area with some small buildings beside the walkway. After walking another 300 meters you come to the beginning of the temple. When you enter, there is a hallway that surrounds the temple and has carvings etched into every inch of wall, recounting the history and mythology of the era. You cross the hall and enter an area where there are some pools (of course not full) and then cross into another more inner courtyard. Here you can see the part of the building where the spires come from, and where the actual worship areas are (i.e. the temple). Then you can see the stairs that take you there. These stairs are intense. They have much more rise than run. Climbing up about 50 feet, each stair is not wider than 6 inches. So we scramble up those and arrive at the top of Angkor Wat. It’s awesome up there. It’s just fun to walk around this massive stone structure. It’s so big. The view is also wonderful, and you can see the whole grounds.
We spent at least an hour and a half in there, and needed to move on because there were many more temples we had to see. In an area around Siem Reap that is about the size of Manhattan Island, there are hundreds of temples. This area was a massive empire from the 8th century to 11th century. At the time of Angkor Wat (the biggest and final achievement of the empire by Suryavarman II) it is believed that there were around 1 million people in the area, at a time when London had 30,000. We could only hit the highlights on this trip, but you could literally spend days and days looking at new temples. And they are scattered all over the country as well.
We took in Bayon, where there are 256 faces of the famous leader Javayarman VII. This temple is placed inside Angkor Thom, which is another walled city type place. Javayarman VII came to power after some rough times within the Angkor empire, and tried to rejuvenate it. He changed the religion from Hindu to Buddhis. This temple is in quite a state of disrepair, but magnificent none the less. Then Ta Keo, built by Jayavarman V, which was super steep to climb, and made of a different stone. It was made of granite, with huge boulders that could only assume to be impossible to move. It is absolutely incredible how they were able to get those rocks up to the top. We met a young Khmer who just talked and talked to us about the temple and Khmer youths and anything he could think of, bumming a dollar off each of us for his services at the end. When we returned to the tuk tuk where Rudi had stayed for this temple, he informed us that our driver spoke Vietnamese, so that made communication a whole lot easier since we now had two languages to communicate with.
Our next stop was Ta Prohm, which is really fascinating. It is one of the most dilapidated temples, but it is extremely cool because there are massive trees growing on top of the temple. From the walls and crushed rock of this temple have sprung massive trees that stand hundreds of feet high. It was also built by Javayarman VII. However, by this point we were beginning to feel sluggish from the heat, and the intensity of seeing such buildings. Our driver took us to another temple, Banteay Kdei, and after bartering with the locals for t-shirts, and being heckled for a good 20 minutes, we ended up strolling right through the temple, barely taking notice of anything. At the end we were offered a Cambodian police badge by a policeman who didn’t think his compensation was enough, and sold badges as a business on the side. We also we shown Sra Srang, which is a platform leading to stairs that enter a pond.
After deliberation about coming back for sunset, it was determined that the driver would drive us back to the hotel for a midday break, and then we could come back and watch the sunset at Angkor Wat, which I had heard was marvelous. So napping turned into finding a restaurant where we could eat Mexican food, and getting back just in time to meet the tuk tuk driver, who took us all the way back. We were in luck when we arrived, because most of the tourists were making their way out of the temple, leaving lots of space inside. The sun was quite high when we arrived, so the time consisted of sitting and waiting mostly. A few pictures were snapped, while we waited for the sun to dive. Just as we were getting ready for the sun to meet the horizon, a security guard decided it was time to close. Angkor Wat closes at 5:30. I did not envy his job. He, as a Khmer who spoke almost no English, had to convince a bunch of tourists who really wanted to see the sunset that they had to leave and not see the sunset from their perch. Needless to say there was some comedy which ensued, climaxing in the guard spitting out the phrase ‘go gggg go di di go go go.’ He was most definitely frustrated by that point. After his manipulation of this simple phrase, we decided to make his job easier and make the descent, which is clearly the reason you can’t wait until dark, because people would no doubt kill themselves by plummeting off the stairs. The sunset was not so spectacular either, though from another vantage point it might be more rewarding, when you actually get to see the colours spill over Angkor Wat.
With plans to move on the next day, we decided to take in a little of the city. Rudi had been there 5 years prior, and when we hit the strip he remembered, it was quite different. An entire street of restaurants and bars dedicated to the traveler. Though somewhat crowded, the food, drinks and atmosphere were nice. The restaurant we picked had a little musical skit at one point, which was a nice touch. The atmosphere spurred us into excitement and caused us to spend the next few hours bar hopping, and getting us back to Mommy’s Guesthouse a little later than expected.

Day 4 – Toyota Camry
Before we resumed the trip minus our friend Al, we had a short discussion which determined that we would keep the trip as was first planned, and make our way to, and across, the Cardamom mountains in the south west of the country. So, this meant that on day 4, instead of heading up to Anlong Veng, we were going west over the top of Tonle Sap lake toward Sisphon, and then south toward Battambang. This was going to be a good day of driving, and the road was supposed to be terrible, as told to us by many who have traveled the road by bus from Bangkok to Siem Reap. It definitely held to the standard we were told about, even being an annoying ride for a few guys on dirt bikes. Of course we did not have to hold back too much because the bikes take rugged roads quite easily, but we were puttin’ along compared to the Toyota Camry’s and Corolla’s that were ballin’ down this road. We saw these cars flying by us at 100 km, on literally the worst road you could find in Canada. Also on this road were 12 passenger vans with 18 people and all their stuff loaded up, beat up old trucks with 20 people in the box, as well as full-sized buses, all going full tilt down this road. It is quite remarkable how they treat their vehicles. A true testament to the quality of some vehicles.
We made Sisphon in quicker time than we expected, and stopped for a bite to eat. We then had another 60 km or so to Battambang, which would be the last highway we would see until we were out of the mountains. So we worked the bikes hard, and made some good time. As far as I remember, there was not much excitement. When we made it to Battambang, we were ready to crash, so we looked at the first hotel we saw. It was brilliant, but $25 dollars a night, a little too hefty. But when we stopped by the next day and had a real look, it was quite a nice hotel, with carved wooden ornaments and furniture that would amaze anyone. Oh well, we had our $6 room with a fan and a bathroom and two beds, good enough for a sleep. We had the task that evening of preparing for our mountain adventure. So we scoped out some hammocks, and took another look at the map. We weren’t sure about the route we had planned, so we went in search of some more information at one of the bigger hotels that had English speaking employees (though limited), and internet. Both were relatively useless at meeting our needs, so we figured we’d just try it. It was another relatively early night to prep for a big day.

Day 5 – Magic Fish
After breakfast, we went back to the Royal hotel in hopes of finding any person who could help us one last time before we set out. And it worked. We had a couple Khmer men tell us that our route was impossible, and that we must enter the mountains at Pursat, the next town south on the highway. Then we came across an American couple who live in Pursat, and he actually works in the town, Veal Veng, that we were looking to get to. He said that we would be best to enter at Pursat. So we believed him, and postponed our entry in to the mountains by a day. This meant we had to drive highway again, which wasn’t pleasing to any of us, but necessary for the general wellness of the trip.
The drive was not difficult. There was one section that was strange though. For about 400 meters of road, there were young female vendors on both sides of the road selling bamboo tubes, each stall about 50 ft. apart. The only part of the country where we saw this sight, and we have no idea why. We made Pursat by 1:30, and in our search for a hotel, we found the Magic Fish restaurant. It lies on the river that runs through town, although the river didn’t have much flow due to the dry season conditions, the children of the town didn’t seem to care, as they were running blissfully through the water, doing flips and jumps, many as naked as the day they were born. This provided great entertainment for lunch, and the food was good too.
We then back tracked to the Phnom Pich Hotel, which we had seen upon entering the town. It turned out to be a good place. After taking a nap, I decided to take a rip down the road, as I was told it was possible to make it to Tonle Sap Lake. Adam and Rudi however, felt it a good idea to keep napping. So I ventured this trip alone. The road followed the river all the way, with houses on both sides of the road almost the entire way. There was a plethora of children running, adults sitting, and a varied collection of cows, pigs and chickens scattered everywhere. I was quite the sight I’m sure, as many people stopped what they were doing and watched me drive by. I’m also sure the massive motorbike I was on was quite awe-inspiring as well. After riding for almost an hour, I decided that the lake may be a little farther than I thought, and turned around.
Shortly after my return we went for dinner at the hotel’s restaurant, another cheap place to eat, with cold beer and wonderful waitresses. So we celebrated what would be our last night in ‘civilization’ for a while, but again retired early in preparation for the day ahead. We finished the night watching a football match, which was what most of our rest time consisted of.

Day 6 – O’Som (a Bin Laden)
This was an exciting day. We were ready to get out of the city, away from people, and make the bikes do some real work. First we had to find where the road we wanted was. For future reference, directions are not a strong point in Khmer culture. Very few of them know how to read maps, and they must not travel too much, because they have difficulty pointing you in the right direction. So after talking to a French speaking police officer, and stopping numerous times to talk to people who sent us in multiple directions, we found the road. It was quite a decent dirt road by Cambodian standards, so we were able to make fast tracks. Our destination today was Veal Veng. We had a rough estimate of how far it would be, but know clue how the road would be there. It stayed quite good for a long time.
At one stop, we asked where Veal Veng was, and the lady said that we were in VV. We knew that was impossible, but trying to sort out where we actually were was difficult. But with use of the map we were able to discover that we were in a town about 60 km from VV. At this particular stop, there was a monkey tied to a tree. Somehow the owners had acquired this pet. After about ten minutes of us resting, the locals started to gather, a couple of them messing with the monkey. The one guy was fairly cruel, constantly scaring the monkey to make him scream and jump. One of the other locals untied the leash and brought the monkey to the hut we were sitting at. The monkey calmed down a little bit, and I was able to pet it. It was constantly on edge though, and created a lot of entertainment for the 10 or so people around. Monkeys however were not what we were in Cambodia for, so we once again mounted our steeds, and blasted off.
The only trick in our travel that day was a left turn at some town in the mountains. It actually ended up being a round-about, which made our left turn extremely easy to choose. And off we were, again. This is where the road starts to get worse. It really didn’t get worse fast, in fact it was easy to drive fast for quite awhile, but you could tell there were less people living down this way.
We were driving with no problems on a decent road, and then all of a sudden we had a sketchy bridge crossing, and we were on to a little path. The road had just stopped, and become no more than a path for motorbikes and footsteps. Within five minutes we were in Veal Veng buying gas.
Now VV is not much of a town. I probably counted a total of 25 houses. There may have been more, but it wasn’t obvious. And although we were told we could stay here, it was only 1:30, and we had heard good things about the next (and final) town of O’Som. So with only 30 km to O’Som, we took off. There was a big cloud looming in the distance, but this was the dry season. How could it rain here, when the rest of the country is a dust bowl. Well, these are the mountains, that’s how.
So after not even 5 km, we got hit with rain. Those first few km had been very different than anything else we had driven yet as well. We were just getting into dirt biking when we had to stop. And it rained, and rained, and rained. Before we knew it, it was 3:30, and we had much less time than we had expected to get to O’Som, and I to learn how to dirt bike. Well it turns out that learning to dirt bike on slippery mud is not a lot of fun. First I had an issue with a sketchy bridge, in which there was one rut to follow, and my rut following abilities in mud are not too great. Luckily I kept my wheel straight enough long enough, that when I went off track I launched myself onto the other side, as opposed to plummeting myself down the 10 or so foot drop. Lesson one.
Shortly there after, we had to climb a slope, which was muddy. Apparently I took the worst route, and I was sliding around, and bailed once again. That’s when I learned that the XR 250 is a pretty big bike. It’s no toy to pick up. So with frustration running high, and a little coaching from Rudi, I was able to figure out some crucial points in dirt bike riding, and make the rest of the trip pretty easily. Rudi had no problems, and Adam was riding his bike well too. Shortly after the marshland that we had to navigate through, we came to a river. Now I had seen people driving through rivers on tv, but I never thought I would do it myself. It wigged me out at first, but it’s actually kind of easy. We were able to get some good pics of it too.
As the light started to fade, we rolled into our destination. We had read that there was a guesthouse in O’Som, but we had no idea where it was. We proceeded to ask the locals where we could sleep, essentially asking if we could sleep at their houses. But each one of them pointed us further into the village. Eventually we noticed the building they were all referring to. It was a two story building (only the second floor is used. The bottom floor is not actually walled in. The second floor is just on stilts. So underneath the second floor is where hammocks are strung, and in most houses, is also where the cooking takes place.) The men at this hotel were making furniture when we arrived, and it seems that all the furniture we used that night was created by these men. It was quite impressive. We sat around (dirty and tired) waiting for the dinner they were cooking for us, which was well worth the wait because it was absolutely massive, and delicious. When we had finished dinner, it was getting dark, which meant it was just about time for bed. The three of us headed to bed at about 8 pm. A brilliant way to gain energy for the next day. The beds were interesting. They consisted of a thatched rug, an inch thick pad, and a couple blankets and pillows, and a bug net draped over top. This was to be our refuge for the next 12 hours or so.

Day 7 – Booked It
When I awoke there was a dull grey light creeping through the window, and there was the sound of roosters crowing. Assuming it was really early, I laid in bed for a long time. Rudi then knocked on my door, and told me it was 8:30. He had thought the same thing as me due to the grayish hue, but it happened to be the first overcast day in a month and a half we were experiencing, so we weren’t used to it.
Once we awoke, it spurred our hosts into action preparing another massive meal. This one ended up being even bigger than the night before. It also ended up being the same as the night before, with an added bowl of vegetables. Just to prove that rice with vegetables, soya sauce, and chili’s is pretty much staple. By 9:30 we were all packed up, gassed up and ready to roll. Our bill was $21, brilliant. Despite the large quantities of water bottles that had just been delivered, we decided that water would be easy to come across on our journey, as it had been every day prior.
The beginning of this day was spectacular. The clouds kept the heat of the sun away, and the jungle we were riding through was a vibrant green and still moist. That wonderful section of the ride ended pretty early, when we came to our first river crossing. It had a shallow, flat rock section, and then changed into a tumultuous pit of different sized rocks, though not extremely far to cross. After mastering that, we moved into 12 foot high grass with a path that could have possibly been narrower then the bike tires, which we did not believe could be a path. So we turned around to knock on one of the three doors that happened to be there. No one was home, but two people were in the field we could see, so we trudged it toward them. Through hand signals and the name Koh Kong, we determined that it was the right way. Back into the grass, we quickly came to a bridge. And after that a massive tree that had fallen over the path. Of course a detour has been somewhat carved through the bush around the fallen tree, and on we go.
The road really began to deteriorate passed this point. It began to become more rocky, and much more featured. Of course, that damned river, or one of it’s brethren, was appearing on frequent intervals as well, and the bridges were less than appealing. Some of which were just downright scary. All of which took some thought to cross, including several with no bridge at all. One intricate little crossing had a river bed with rolling pocketed rock, and two six foot planks provided the bridge across the dry season river that was about 4 foot deep. Exciting.
We covered a few more kilometers, and after a rocky decline, we stalled for a further drink. It was shortly after 12, and it was hot, and we had only covered 17 km. We needed the break though. At this point I was still more scared of the jungle and its sounds, than at the distance we had to cover. I didn’t realize how long dirt-biking kilometers took.
The next time I phase back in is at the base of this long, steep incline that had basically become a river. It provided these one foot wide peaks, and three to four foot deep run off streams. This section, if I recall correct, took us one and a half hours. It took a lot of sweat, in the midday sun. It took a lot of energy, and it took a lot of time. Probably three of the most important things we could not spare. Petrol being really high up there, which was also spilled a couple times as bikes were down.
At the top of this open section, was another rocky, substitute river, which proved itself also difficult. At least we were in the shade. And shortly after that, we saw the first humans we had seen in 4 hours. It was an Englishman who was with his four Vietnamese leader and support team, and who had also flew his bike to Cambodia, and paid $3,500 US to get it in the country. While we drank a liter and a half of their water, they detailed the trip still ahead, which included many river crossings (at which we could get more water), a crazy slanted bamboo bridge, and 65 km. We had only come 35 km by 2:30. Over five hours, that is only 7 km per hour. Which meant we would have 9 more hours. They did assure us though, that the road improves greatly after only 15 more km. Okay, two hours.
For a short time the route remained quite difficult and time consuming, but it started to improve in marginal ways. We were riding relatively quickly when we arrived at another bridge, that required pushing instead of driving. Adam approached it first, and managed to slip on a shifting log, and land the bike on top of his back. So he was star-fished face down on three logs, with a heavy dirt-bike on top of him. I thought he was going to be getting torched by the engine, but he managed to be separated from the bike due to the logs placements. Nothing wronged, we crossed the other two bikes (which almost ended me just like Adam) and brought our water bottles to the water to replenish our fluids. It was pretty much the saviour of the day. The anti-saviour however, came shortly after that refreshing moment. The dark clouds we could see in the distance, were not so distant anymore. In fact, when we decided to take off, the drops fell, and only Rudi got away, while Adam and I scurried under the bridge to take cover. It worked quite well. In fact really well compared to how Rudi survived up top the hill when he returned absolutely drenched. There was a brief break, and we had to take it, so we started up again. Of course within minutes the second shift of rain came on, but we really had nowhere great to stop, and time of was the essence, so we kept going. Again we approached a river, and it was quite wide, though it ended up having nice flat rock. However we had to bump up a couple 2 foot rock ledges to make it to the narrow overgrown chute that would provide our runway to the green house on wheels that we could see. And we made it, and ducked under the house to lighten the intensity of our wetness. The man of the house joined us, and told us it would be 50 km to Koh Kong, but the road goes from a human arm showing really large changes in elevation, to a human arm showing only moderate changes in elevation. However, this being the case (it being that we were only half way, and it was 4:30), the man would not let us stay in the house on wheels with his wife and two kids. So we had to keep going, rain or no rain. And we did, and within 50 meters we were at another river crossing, with another steep chute to rise, this time uncovered, though there was a nice tree branch at head level. The road itself had improved greatly, being wide with small red rocks. But every time we went downhill even a little bit, there was a river or bridge of some sort to cover, none of which were any shape resembling good. You never knew whether it would be a terrible excuse for a bridge, or a detour to the left side of where the bridge used to be, and plow through a pool of water, and then up the jagged rocky other side. We eventually came to a small small commune of about 10 houses, and tried to buy petrol, but they either really didn’t have any, or wanted to hoard what they had. So we pressed on again, hoping that our petrol, energy, or sweat didn’t disappear, much like our time had.
After several more rivers and bridges, we came across one of the scariest things I have seen in my life. It was the crazy slanted bamboo bridge. It had three logs, two which were quite near each other, and another that was 4 feet lower than the lowest one above it, but was attached to it by many sticks which were nailed to the two logs. Of course some of them were not attached but still present, and other patches had simply disappeared. It was also a quarter to seven, and getting quite dark. Twilight you call it? So we had to do it quickly. All three of us had to support each bike, while teetering on the logs, and pushing it along in small intervals. Heart wrenching. We made it, were satisfied, and had to hope that the bridge was truly the last, and hardest of the bridge crossings. It proved to be the hardest, but we had our share of shallow rivers to cross, with large rocks and rock bumps on the far side, in the darkness that had descended. We really booked it when there was open road, and we really booked it when there was a river crossing. All the time hoping that the little petrol we had left didn’t end.
We finally came to a house that would sell us petrol. There was a large gathering of people, and most of them were drunk. One of the ladies grabbed a funnel and some bottles of gas, and loaded us with 2 litres each to take us the further 13 km they told us we still had to go. No problem.
We arrived at our hotel in Koh Kong at shortly before 9:00 pm. It was a hell of a day, and we now all had our own massive bed in a single room to sprawl out on and lay for hours upon end. It wasn’t difficult to decide that we would not be heading to a new town the next day. We ate dinner, and went to sleep.

Day 8 – Sleep
I didn’t sleep quite as long as I would have liked to, however, it was sufficient. We convened around 10 am for breakfast, and at breakfast we decided that Adam should head to a pharmacy to take care of the burn he had received on his leg. The first aid kit was doing an alright job, but he needed pharmaceuticals to help it along. Rudi and I headed to an internet café while Adam waited in a clinic. It was incredible the need I had to communicate with people, and the joy of being in civilization, I felt after being nearly stranded in the mountainous rainforest of eastern Cambodia. And shortly after fulfilling that need, I returned to the comfort of my bed, where I wasted away several hours doing nothing, just like my partners.
We decided that supper would be a good time to get back together, and went in search of a restaurant I had read about at the internet café. It proved difficult to find, but we ended up at quite a spectacular restaurant which was part of a hotel, and where we sat over top of the water on a wooden deck. At this table we could see the bridge to Thailand, and Thailand itself just across the river. It was another joyous occasion, just like all the rest, with a little added flavour of the toughest part of our trip being behind us. In front of us were a few days at the beach. Boo Ya.
And so we retired early again, as it was 240 km or so to Sihanoukville, the longest day yet.

Day 9 – Beauty
Driving out of Koh Kong is quite a scenic adventure. The road is actually quite good, being built by the Thai army over the past 4 or so years. Unfortunately, several sections are not finished, nor are any of the bridges that need to be constructed. At each river crossing, we had to wait for a Cambodian standard ferry, or a Real Cambodian standard ferry, which consisted of two boats, a mashing of 2 by 4’s across it and onto it, and a 10 horse-power motor with a blade on the end of a 6 foot pole. Quite interesting, and surprisingly sturdy. At many points we had a great view of the mountainous region we just covered, and the river spots were usually quite scenic themselves. At one particular crossing, the driver made his money for the day from me alone. After stopping for sugar cane juice after crossing, we tried to hit the road. Unfortunately, my front wheel rim was basically hitting the road because my tire decided to go flat. No fun. And it turned out that the man who usually changes tires on this side of the river, and whose house was literally meters from my position, was gone today. So I had to go back across the river to get it changed. At first the guy just filled the tired with air, but the hissing sound eminating from my tire gave him the clue that something bigger was amiss. And so the tire change was underway, with me and another dude lifting the bike so the one guy could undo the tire, take it off, and then put supports under the bike. Quite the workout. However, it was done relatively quickly, and I crossed the river one more time and we could be on our way.
We bulleted down the road, longing for the ocean, and once again, those looming dark clouds blew our way. Fortunately today, we had frequent places to stop, and the knowledge that it truly was going to rain. At a critical point, we decided to keep driving the 4 km to make Sre Ambel, at which we were able to get my famished self some rice. It literally started pouring the second we got inside the restaurant. When we left the restaurant, we still had over 100km to tackle, but it was to the beach. We had no troubles crossing this distance. The second greatest site on this part of the trip was the 9 or 10 year old boy, driving a Honda Wave down the shoulder of the other side of the highway, with his naked 3 or 4 year old brother on the back.
The greatest part of the trip was when we made the rolling hills that lead to Sihanoukville and the ocean that lies around them. We would get to chill for a couple days finally, and swim in the blue coloured water that we don’t get in VT.
During the search for a decent hotel, we stopped for a beer and a swim to wash ourselves of the day, and the past week really. The warmth of the water in the South China Sea is really inviting (though too warm at times), but the blueness of this water was so much more inviting. Eventually we found a hotel for $17 (steep I know) and settled in with dinner and some bevies by the sea. I took a beautiful walk down the beach, through the chaos that is serendipity beach in Sihanoukville. There were definitely a lot of tourists, three of which were playing with batons with blazing fire at both ends, at one of the many bars. And after chatting with Rudi for a while and enjoying the sounds of the ocean and the breeze, it was time to retire.

Day 10 – Oh Canada!
We arose quite early, for apparently no reason, except maybe to make sure we could get the breakfast. Mmmmm, crepes. At this point, Rudi had decided that he was moving on further that day, trying to get to Kampot. Adam and I just wanted to hang out and relax with the surf, and possibly hit up an island. And that’s what we did. I talked to the manager, and she got us two tickets to Bamboo Island (Koh Russei), and we booked a room out there for the night, apparently the biggest one out there. The boat however, left at 8:30, and it was nearly 8 already. So we packed our things, sorted out money issues, and were on our separate ways.
Our way led us to a 25 foot boat, with a motor that was exactly the same as all the motors that had shuttled us on the make shift ferries across the rivers from Koh Kong. When we arrived, we were the only people on the boat. Shortly after, an older couple joined us, and then the mob came. A mixed aged group of about 15 people crammed into the leftover space on the boat. Within minutes we were on our way. Sitting in front of us was a Canadian named Tom and a Brit named Sarah. Of course the standard greetings and questions were exchanged, and it was determined that our fellow Canadian was also a teacher, his placement being Taiwan. Our friend Sarah was traveling South East Asia on a 3 month hiatus from work.
After a solid 30 minutes of boating, we pulled up to the side of an island, where we were informed that we would be snorkeling. This was a pleasant surprise, as it was unbeknownst to us. Also, I had never been snorkeling around coral before, and Cambodia seemed like a pleasant place to do so. It turned out to be quite wonderful. I never really understood how it could be so enjoyable, but it truly is wonderful to see the fish swimming about the coral, and to see the different shapes the rock forms, and also the different plants that are attached to it. We spent about 45 minutes here, and moved on to our final destination, the Island of Koh Russei. The scenery is quite spectacular, with the blue ocean surrounding the plentiful islands covered with bright green trees, and white sandy beaches littering their coasts. Our island had a wonderful white beach, trees for shade, and a group of huts and a bar and restaurant. What a great place.
We were going to have lunch cooked for us by the boat’s captain and his first mate, and we had an hour or more to kill, so we did what any good beach bum might do, we gathered some friends and played beach volleyball. We added two new young people to our growing crew. One being a 23 year old male from New York State who was also a teacher in Taiwan, and his girlfriend who was Taiwanese, and worked as a recruiter for the school her boyfriend worked at. We played, we swam, we hid from the sun, and then we were served a decent lunch of fish on a bun, with a final plate of fruit, which was polished off by one of the many cows that roamed the island with us.
After lunch several people went to the other side of the island to another beach. We just hung out and enjoyed the beautiful scenery. At this point I decided to ask our guide what time we would be returning to shore the next day. You see, the next day we were supposed to drive back to Phnom Penh, which was over 200 km, and return our bikes by 6 pm. Our guide told me that we would get back to Sihanoukville by 4 pm. In other words, not good enough. So we had to return with the boat the same day, and cancel our overnight stay. Which was a pity, but worked out quite well.
So our boat left at about 2, and we traveled to another island where we went snorkeling again. At this point I could smell my skin burning from the lack of sun screen, but I couldn’t very easily avoid the sun. So we enjoyed the coral once again, and also met a couple more of our fellow passengers who were from Australia.
We made shore by about 3 or 3:30, although I thought it was a whole lot later. It was determined that we would meet our fellow Canadian and the rest of the crew at the Canadian flag on the beach at 8 pm, so we had time to kill. We had to find ourselves a hotel for the night, which proved not too difficult, and only set us back six dollars, and was going to do our laundry for a dollar per kilo. After that, what better to kill time with then fifty cent glasses of beer, and some pool. So that’s what we did at The Mermaid, and we met some really nice Khmer guys. I felt like I was part of their crew, and I had only been there for an hour. For dinner we picked an Indian restaurant that was just around the corner. It proved to be quite good, and introduced us to another Canadian.
While we were eating at another Indian restaurant, there was this girl who was scouring the menu, and eventually sat down and ordered. Eventually she hollered at us and asked if we were from Canada. With our nationality in common, she joined our table, and became our friend for the night. She apparently was looking at the menu to determine if she could afford a meal, but I think she was looking for a couple guys to pay for her dinner. When it came to paying, it turned out that none of us had enough money, ha, but that was sorted out quite easily with a quick trip the hotel. It turned out that our new friend Carrie was from the Kitchener area, and had a cottage at the base of the Bruce Peninsula, so she knew several of the local hot spots that Adam was also familiar with. Time flew by, and it was time to meet up with the rest of the crew, and to introduce our newest friend, which would make the Canadian nationality the dominant one for the night.
Earlier that afternoon, while Adam and I played pool at The Mermaid, we had been given a flyer about a party for that evening at the Green Frog. The flyer said fifty cent beer, and free shots, and even a place to stay if needed (which would have been good had we not booked our hotel shortly before getting handed the flyer). It also said that pool would be played all night. So naturally we went to this party. The pool game was a crazy game that involved as many people as possible. Each person was given 3 lives, and each person had one shot per round. So you could shoot for any ball you wanted to, but you had to sink a ball or you lost a life. And it was a case of last man standing. It was difficult to get into a flow, but nice because you only had to think about the game when you had to shoot, and then you could just rejoin the conversation. And so the night went. It was quite enjoyable, and a wonderful way to spend the last night at the beach.

Day 11 - #9… Again.
Day eleven consisted of savouring our last few dollars, driving a couple hundred kilometers, and booking bus tickets back to Saigon. We proved able in all areas.
We hit the road about eleven o’clock, and Adam ran out of gas by about twelve. But once we sorted that out, it was pretty much free drivin’ to our destination. We were supposed to meet Rudi at five, and we arrived in town at four. We checked out the hotel he said he would stay at, but they were full, and Rudi was not there. By this point my driving nerves were fried, so we headed to the bike shop to hang out and wait for Rudi.
He finally arrived, and we sorted out the details with the shop, returned what tools and parts we had left, and were free of our bikes. We weren’t however, free of our poor situation. So we borrowed a few more bucks off Rudi, and went to our hotel to retire for the night. Rudi told us to join him at Sharky bar where a band he knew was playing, but that wasn’t exactly going to fit our pocket book. So we found our way to #9 guesthouse, booked ourselves a room, purchased seven dollar bus tickets back to Saigon, and went for all you can eat Indian food, again. It is quite spectacular the amount of food you’re allowed to eat for two dollars.
We retired to the hotel to hang out for a while. Played some pool, and enjoyed the music coming from next door, where a benefit was being held for orphans, and it was the orphans performing the music along with a dance. It was quite pleasant. But soon enough it was time for bed to prepare for the 6:30 wake up.

Day 12 – All the Way, Baby

Hey gang! It’s Adam here now. Dyk’s brought you 95% of the way along our journey so I thought it only proper that I guide you back across the border and into the homeland of Vietnam. We woke up bright and early that Sunday morning at Number 9 Guesthouse. Now, considering the relative luxury we had enjoyed on the trip to Phnom Penh, I hadn’t set my standards too high for our seven dollar, seven hour bus ride to Saigon. Well let me tell you, it wasn’t too bad! The bus to the border was comfortable, and filled with westerners. There wasn’t a single wailing baby, crowing rooster or stinking pig in sight. What a lovely development it was indeed.

We spent the morning winding our way along the national highway toward Bavet, the border town on the Cambodian side. The road was bumpy and the going slow, but I was still filled with glee thanks to the plush interior of the coach. It was an uneventful trip aside from one moment which I care not to describe in detail. All I’ll say is that as I sat looking out the window onto the left lane of the highway, my eyes happened upon a body in the road surrounded by onlookers. It was the second time in my life that I’d seen a sight like this and I’m hoping that I don’t get a chance to find out if the third time’s a charm.

Let’s get on to a happier topic. When we reached the border we pulled off to the side of the checkpoints and were told that we’d spend 45 minutes there for lunch.

Let me mention at this point that the seven hour duration of this trip could be severely truncated if only the operators would realize the non-necessity of stopping often for breaks and food. But, when your business is in bed with the snack shops and restaurants along the route the trip tends to take a little longer. I would estimate that we spent about two of the seven hours “relaxing”, “eating” and “drinking” as the drivers put it.

I digress. Back to the happy topic I mentioned. After lunch at the border we made our way through the checkpoint and set foot on Vietnamese soil once again. It was a strange feeling to be comforted by the fact that we were in Vietnam. Dare I say it felt like home! Perhaps it was the fact that we could communicate with people again, or that we could use the currency we were used to, or, for that matter, access money from Atm’s, something we could have put to good use during the previous few days.

As we walked along the side of the road in search of where we were to meet our new bus that would cart us the rest of the way to Saigon we saw and heard a woman call out to us from our left. She was waving bus tickets similar to ours and asking if we were going to Saigon. We said yes and she asked for our tickets. I was a little leery about the situation. She had no identifying marks of any sort placing her with a tour company or any employer whatsoever. But, then I got to thinking, “what could she gain from taking our used bus tickets?” and happily followed her to a shop just up the road where we were to wait for the rest of the passengers coming through the border. As we sat amongst a group of maybe 10 more travelers who were joining us on this leg of the trip I enjoyed listening the girl and her friend chatter away in Vietnamese. At one point in their exchange they were discussing another person and simultaneously uttered the phrase “sau ba co!” This means that the subject “lies like their grandmother.” It’s one of many hilarious slang quips that the Vietnamese enjoy using, and it is so easily recognizable. When they said it Dyk and I both looked up and giggled, at which point the two lasses became aware that we knew what they were saying. We shared a laugh and a few more words with the younger girl, the one who’d taken our tickets and shortly thereafter boarded the new bus for Saigon.

As it turned out the girl’s name was Thao, and she was our “guide”. The company she worked for, Happy Tours, made a great effort to acclimatize travelers who are seeing Vietnam for the first time. So it was that Thao spent a great deal of the trip chatting to us over the PA system on the bus, talking about places to go in Vietnam, prices that should be paid for goods and services, how to say hello and goodbye and even singing a song as we clapped along. It was hilariously entertaining, and she was fit for the role, comfortable in front of the crowd and sporting a cute and innocent voice that is so often found in Vietnamese girls speaking broken English. Thao’s English was actually quite good and I think most people found her tutelage useful.

When we alighted in Saigon two hours and one “relaxing stop” later, both Dyk and I were eager to get back to Vung Tau, so it was decided that we’d take the boat rather than the slightly slower minibus. Dyk set off to ILA Saigon to drop off his passport for a visa renewal and I walked down the street from where the bus had dropped us and found our good friend Phat, at his office. Being the wonderful guy that he is, he offered me a ride to the Atm and the dock. I took him up on the offer and 10 minutes later I was plopped in a chair on the jetty with two tickets for Vung Tau in hand. We were almost there. Soon Dyk arrived and within a couple minutes we boarded the boat.

The trip down the river was as normal as can be. As we neared Vung Tau both of us had the same thing on our mind. With the lovely colour of the gulf of Thailand fresh in our memories, we hoped desperately that by some miracle of nature the waters off of Vung Tau had turned sapphire blue. I went out on the tiny deck of the hydrofoil as we came to port and to my surprise the water did look quite clean. The boat nestled up to the dock and we strode off in the direction of our house on the hill. We strolled up our street, waving enthusiastically to the neighbours and glad to be back. Needless to say it was a quiet night. We were whipped like a fine cream. We spent Monday defining the word relaxing. We did however make a trip to the beach in the afternoon, and glory be! the water was as clean as I’d ever seen it. There was no better way to be welcomed home.

March 18, 2007: Back in the grind. The story is now finished. To tie up one loose end, Al was able to get a temporary passport which allowed him to get back into Vietnam, and back to work. This past week it was determined that Al has a fracture in his foot. The day he left us he noticed a bit of pain, but nothing serious. Apparently that was the fracture. Needless to say, Al’s experience in Cambodia was less than nice. He’ll have to return to have a vacation that is actually enjoyable 