What could possibly Koh Rong? Laos and Cambodia Part 2.
Leaving Laos was a wrench.?As a final treat the lovely people at The River Resort in Champasak organised a sunset river float for us.?Basically they load you onto a pontoon like contraption with a small engine at one end.?The central platform has a nicely laid table with some wine and canapés, all very carefully laid out.?About half an hour before sunset you, your driver and a waiter potter upstream into a central position in the river and the engine is switched off.
Like something from a movie, you drift serenely downstream with only birdsong as a soundtrack as the sun sets on the Mekong.?Eventually, as the sun lowers in the sky a streak of molten gold shimmers on the surface of the river until, with a final flourish, the show is over, sun down, molten streak gone for another day.?Nature is a wonderful thing.
Reluctant or not, leave we must.?Bidding a fond farewell to our hosts we set off for the land border crossing between Laos and Cambodia. In true explorer style our journey begun not by road but by boat.?The complexities of the local roads together with the sheer size of the Mekong meant that we had to board yet another rickety river craft and cross to a dusty track where our ride to the border awaited.
?Whilst relations between the two countries are not in any way hostile neither are they overly cordial, so all border formalities are observed and it’s not possible to take the same car from one side to the other, at least not without some hellish paperwork.?This leaves the task of getting where you need to go on the other side a bit complicated, or, at least, needing some planning.
We had arranged for a driver to drop us at the Laos side and another to pick us up (hopefully) on the Cambodia side.?We had also been warned to expect some congestion and delay at the crossing, together with the usual irritating level of pointless bureaucracy.
Offloading us at the Laos side our driver wished us good luck and waved goodbye.?Time to saddle up.?Big rucksacks on our backs, small ones on the front, we set out towards the border buildings and what I anticipated would be a very annoying couple of hours.?Not a bit of it.?The place was deserted.?Paperwork all done before hand (credit Liz!) we were through the Laos side in no time.?You then walk across about one hundred metres of no mans land to the Cambodian side.?Once again, a very helpful and well organised immigration team hustled us through in short order, visas and passports stamped we were good to go.
The contact that we had found in Cambodia, the industrious Mr Ra, more of whom later, had organised a driver to meet us and, thankfully, there he was, waiting just the other side of the barrier.?Having driven two hours Laos side to get to the border we now faced a further three hour slog to get to our first stopping point, the remote and definitely un touristy town of Kratié, also on the banks of the Mekong, but, well, er, a bit basic?
Whilst at first the road was not much more than a dirt track it soon became pretty reasonable, almost European, not something we had experienced almost anywhere in Laos.?Driving through the countryside villages and towns the difference between the two countries became more obvious the more you looked, saw and compared.
Part of Laos’ charm is the fact that economically it is very backward.?Whilst this gives it an undoubted rural idyll vibe it’s not such good news for the population who would welcome a bit of development and opportunity to better their lives and those of their children.?Sadly, as always, a Communist government ensures that this can’t happen and so they look south with envy towards Cambodia.
The Cambodians, having thrown off the murderous yoke of their own Communists, the Khmer Rouge, have absolutely no truck with the whole left wing student politics shtick.?Emerging from an unimaginable nightmare (more of which later) they set about rebuilding and reshaping their economy as a progressive western leaning model, encouraging investment, personal freedoms and rewarding industry.?The results are evident, everywhere you go.
Believe me, there are still plenty of very poor people in this country, but they have hope and a belief that hard work and free enterprise will deliver a better future, and for many this is already happening.?When you drive through the countryside in Laos you notice that pretty much the only farm machinery are water buffaloes and those strange long handlebar two wheeled towing contraptions.?The Cambodian farmers have proper tractors, and new looking ones at that.?Rural houses north of the border are almost universally shacks fabricated from local bamboo, palm leaves and a bit of corrugated tin.?South of the border they tend to be much more substantial and?give the appearance of structural integrity and some degree of permanence.
Whilst economies may grow at different rates some things are common to all countries in this region and one of those is the overwhelming importance of the scooter to everyday life.?Here a scooter is the family transport, frequently carrying four or even five at a time.?Often this involves Mum and Dad bookending the thing whilst the kids are packed in between like sardines.?Obviously no one wears a helmet.?In Kratie market we saw a scooter being driven down the road with a great big husky dog balanced on the handlebar, the driver operating the machine with one hand and holding the dog with the other.?The role of the scooter goes well beyond personal transport.?Here it is used as the principal commercial transport workhorse.?These machines pass you piled improbably high with goods precariously balanced on any part of the available surface area.
When the surface area needed is larger that that available the Cambodians attach a large steel trailer to the back.?The trailer is then loaded with as much cargo as can be made to balance on it, sometimes several metres high.?Pretty much all of these towing vehicles are old 49cc Honda stepthroughs, not known for their torque or towing capabilities yet somehow they just keep going, although quite often a push from two or three helpers is needed to overcome the inertia of such a mismatch between power and weight, but once they get going they keep going.?If it works why change it??The Asian Ford Transit.?
Economic differences aside one thing that is noticeable is that the personality and charm of the people is still very much in evidence.?An encounter with a Cambodian will involve smiles, politeness, warmth and as much helpfulness as they can throw your way.?Once again, this isn’t an act, it’s just who they are.
So, first stop Kratié.?Initial impressions on our way to the business premises of The Industrious Mr RA were, frankly, not that encouraging.?A ragtag down at heel kind of place that has yet to smarten itself up in pursuit of the tourist dollar, it didn't inspire.?To get to our accommodation Mr Ra explained that we had to get into his Tuk Tuk since the streets were too narrow for a car.?He wasn't joking, the Tuk Tuk barely fit through a warren of streets filled by what we were to discover was the town’s permanent market.?Dodging pedestrians, mopeds, chickens, street vendors, street urchins, puddles of nameless goo, stalls selling all kinds of entrails, beef tongues, pigs heads, century eggs (don't ask), deep fried tarantulas, fried larvae?and weirdly ugly dogs we finally pulled up outside of our lodgings.?Oh my good God, what have we done??The place was, at first glance, an architectural nightmare of concrete, steep stone stairs and slab like undecorated walls showing marks that, to me at least, looked like bullet damage.?Sinking feeling??You bet.
This being a very real circumstance, not something that we could dodge, we climbed the concrete stairs feeling much like Sherpas with our heavy backpacks, front packs and a good deal of trepidation.?Then.?Well, wow, what to say??The next level was a combined reception/bar/dining room packed with vintage motorbikes, a bicycle rickshaw, fifties Cambodian movie prints and many other random collectibles from that era.?It was a bit weird, granted, but incredibly stylish.?The owner, a charming and slightly mysterious Frenchman who introduced himself as Alex was full of personality and chatty details about the property’s renovation (?) whilst also informing us that for dinner they only served Crepes.?Seriously.?Just Crepes.
Style over substance is, I believe, a well understood concept and this place is very much the poster boy for that approach.?The staff (minimal) were lovely, the main dining and bar area very much an instagram dream.?Counterpoint.?Our bedroom was incredibly uncomfortable, aircon just about working, a bed that was clearly designed by Pol Pot to elicit confessions from his captives and rickety single glazed windows that allowed all the five in the morning start up racket from the market straight in from the street to your ears.?Oh, and they can only give you crepes for supper, did I mention that??Kratié is not, definitely not, for the faint hearted.
You make you own fortune however.?Streets and alleyways seemingly bereft of anywhere to even get a cold beer and a sit down eventually yielded a tiny storefront place run by a German guy where the beer was cold and the french fries were just right.?Seek and ye shall find.?You do, however, have to run the gauntlet of street kids all crowding you, chattering and shouting, following you (keep your hand on your wallet) and, in my case, getting poked in the belly by a particularly irritating kid who couldn’t have been more than ten years old.?My resulting growl and expression ended that encounter pretty quickly.
Most visitors come to Kratié to see the famous and critically endangered Irrawaddy dolphins and we were no exception.?The next day we boarded yet another rickety boat and went in search of these rare creatures.?In times gone by they ranged all the way from Myanmar to Vietnam, but over hunting, habitat loss and pollution have reduced their numbers to just over one hundred along the whole Mekong.?It also didn't help that, whilst in power the Khmer Rouge slaughtered every dolphin they could find and boiled them down for oil.
Happily there is a fairly healthy pod of thirty or so that live in the river around Krampie, about twenty kilometres north of Kratié.?For an hour we were treated to the lovely sight of these rare creatures with their comically rounded heads breaching, splashing around and generally having dolphin type fun all around our boat.?At last serious conservation efforts are now underway, and, with luck and continued funding (thanks Germany, by the way), the Irrawaddy dolphin might just make it back from the brink.?I certainly hope so.?Dolphins excepted, though, Kratié isn’t really worth a visit, and we were glad to get on our way to Phnom Penh, the capital of Cambodia.
The Industrious Mr Ra had organised a driver to take us on what should have been about a three hour trip.?In the usual way round here our driver spoke no English and also didn't know his way around Phnom Penh, hardly ideal.?We decided to rely on Google maps and the pin showing the location of our hotel.?On arrival in the city it soon became clear that all was not right as the map took us into ever dingier and narrower streets.?Part of this navigational chaos involved Liz having to climb from the back seat into the front passenger seat in order to give our very grumpy driver clear directions whilst we were driving down a three lane highway.?Thank god for Yoga. The indicated destination was reached, not much more than an alleyway full of litter and lounging locals.?No one spoke English and our increasingly stressed driver was no help whatsoever, even refusing to speak to the hotel on the phone.
Eventually he gave up and dumped us on a street corner.?Fortunately a Tuk Tuk driver appeared who, to our great relief, spoke some English, enough to understand that we were lost.?Having finally got the hotel on the phone it turned out that we were more than a mile away and that their map pin was wrong.?With some relief we set off thinking that our ordeal was over.?Oh no, not so fast…. Tuk Tuk guy dumped us down another alley at the entrance to a building which looked nothing like a hotel, then scarpered.?At least half a dozen locals all crowded round chattering away in Cambodian, none of which was helping in the slightest.?By this stage we were hot, very sweaty and very stressed.
All of a sudden an elegantly dressed lady appeared and asked us in very good English whether we were lost.?Once we had explained our predicament she simply said ‘ah, yes, I know where that is, follow me’.?Back on with the backpacks and front packs we followed her for ten minutes or so until she brought us, finally, to our hotel, whilst refusing to take anything for her help she wished us good day and went on her way.?If I knew where she lived I would send her flowers, so relieved were we.?Or buy her a car.
The Japanese owner of the iRoca hotel was absolutely astonished to hear of our ordeal and made lots of mooing noises which I took to mean WTF in Japanese when we showed him his faulty pin.
Our troublesome journey had left us perfectly prepared to hate the hotel, its staff, Phnom Penh and even the rest of Cambodia.?That didn’t last.?It is a delightful place, a little oasis of peace in a busy city with lovely grounds, a nice pool and fantastically warm and friendly staff, many of whom were trainees under a great scheme run by many in the hospitality industry in this country where street kids with little or no prospects are taken and trained up to a good level so they can get tourism based jobs and break out of the poverty trap.?Well done all involved.
Cambodians are generally so nice, so charming and gentle, a really warm people with a fascinating civilisation behind them.?Which makes what happened here in the mid to late seventies all the more difficult to comprehend.?Once more, regional instability caused by the Vietnam war caused tragedy.?After a brief struggle in 1975 the Chinese communist backed Khmer Rouge forces seized control in Cambodia.?What happened next is the stuff of nightmares, and, trust me, if you want to understand it properly a visit to Phnom Penh’s notorious S21 torture centre and the killing fields just outside of the city will bring home the full horror of this dreadful part of human history.
Led by the highly secretive and paranoid Pol Pot, the Khmer Rouge forces emptied the entire city of Phnom Penh and other major urban centres around the country.?The entire population was forced, at gunpoint, to relocate to the countryside to grow rice, whether or not they had any skills in agriculture.?Impossible targets were set, with almost all rice produced sold to china in return for weapons.?The result was mass starvation.?These were the lucky ones.
To the communists any urban dwellers were automatically a threat to the revolution and the utopian self reliant workers paradise they dreamed of creating.?Thus anyone educated, or who spoke a second language, or who was of any kind of professional class, or who even wore glasses or had soft hands, was considered to be an enemy of the people.?I have seen what they did to these wretched unfortunates who had done absolutely nothing wrong.?I won’t detail it here, but it remains one of the worst and most upsetting of experiences I have encountered in a lifetime of travel.
Eventually the communists ran out of places to hide the bodies of their victims in the city and so the killing fields became plan B.?Pits were dug in smallish secretive areas all over the country and victims were trucked there, usually after torture and signing forced confessions that implicated all their family and friends.?(The Khmer Rouge had a saying, if you are getting rid of weeds you need to pull up the roots as well).?Most were executed immediately on arrival.?Never with bullets, too expensive, but with a variety of agricultural implements, then dumped into pits.
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Cambodia, at the time had a population of between six and seven million people.?An estimated three million died in this paroxysm of ideological hatred and paranoia.?There is literally no one in the country today who hasn’t lost someone to this tragedy.?Pol Pot claimed he was following Marxist Leninist ideology accurately.?It’s worth bearing that some western politicians still espouse Marxist Leninist theories, notably in Britain Jeremy Corbyn, John McDonnel and their Momentum pals.?Joseph Stalin once described British supporters of communism as ‘useful idiots’.?My experience of seeing first hand the effects off this poisonous doctrine would suggest to me that he was being overly polite.
Enough misery and death.?Phnom Penh today is a prosperous and bustling place which has experienced a serious peace dividend in the form of repeated economic fast track growth
The Cambodian Prime Minister, Hun Sen, has been in power since 1985, making him the world’s longest serving person in such a role.?He has managed this feat by following the post communist dictators playbook, as seen in Russia, China and many other autocratically ruled countries.?Systematically clamping down on all opposition through physical intimidation, bogus trials and mysterious disappearances has meant that at the last election his party was unopposed in all seats.?Also in common with the aforementioned autocracies, Cambodia has no real tradition of democracy so as long as he can continue to deliver higher living standards and ever shinier trucks the general population are not too bothered about what they consider to be a bit of an academic nicety, that is to say real democracy and the orderly transference of power.?You can hardly blame them after the events of their recent history.
A more relatable and enjoyable city than Bangkok or Vientiane, Phnom Penh sits on the banks of the Mekong and the huge inland lake known as the Tonle Sap.?The size of this lake varies enormously between the wet and dry seasons and it is a very important food source for the many Cambodians that live around its edge.?Living with such variable water levels requires some ingenuity however, which the locals have addressed by building their houses on high stilts.
In the dry season the underside of the house is shady, a good place to eat, rest and socialise. During the wet season the water comes right up to floor level, shopping is done by boat and kids go swimming straight off the front veranda.?Fish are plentiful year round, but particularly during wet season.?Most locals set fish traps right under their house, accessed through a lifting flap in the floor.?This arrangement is super efficient as you only need to roll out of bed, lift a flap, and hey presto!?Lunch! ?The season also produces an abundance of frogs, snakes, eels, snails and freshwater prawns, all of which are consumed with great gusto by the lakeside villagers and, indeed far beyond.?In a poor country free protein is a big deal.?This kind of sustainable food production
Three very enjoyable nights and two quite harrowing days later it was time to say goodbye to Phnom Penh and the lovely team at the iRoha.?Our destination this time was the paradise island of Koh Rong, about twenty five miles off the coast of Cambodia pretty much where the Gulf of Thailand meets the South China Sea.?To reach it you must get to the ferry port at Sihanoukville, an ugly town of high rise hotels and dirty beaches, much beloved of Russian and Chinese tourists.?The journey from the capital used to take five hours or more but, thanks to a new expressway built by, yes, you guessed it, the Chinese, it takes just over two.?They may or may not have designs on global domination but they do build a nice motorway.
?The island is serviced by a number of well organised high speed transfer boats that drop visitors at various different points along its coast.?A forty minute crossing brought us to the pier of our chosen accommodation for six nights (what a treat!) of R&R.?The Anaya had looked idyllic when we chose it.?White sandy beach, lovely bungalows, a nice restaurant and more.?Instead it was a shabby down at heel kind of place with poor organisation, tired and tatty rooms and a dirty beach.?We had booked for six nights, we stayed for one, cancelled the rest of our stay and, throwing caution and our budget to the wind booked ourselves into the glorious Royal Sands resort.?What a place!
Koh Rong has some lovely beaches but none better than the vast expanse of icing sugar sands leading down to a gin clear sea in front of the Royal.?This is a resort of rare excellence in an exceptionally lovely setting.
No matter how pampered you might feel we, certainly, always need to get out of the bubble and go and mix it up with the locals.?In this case our only option was the village of Koh Touch, about fifteen minutes away by Tuk Tuk.?A quite bumpy and uncomfortable journey down the coast road brings you to this hedonists dream.?Most of the Main Street is also the beach.?Cool and laid back bars and restaurants abound while the local kids play on the sand and in the the sea.?The local fishing fleet, all of about six boats, is anchored a few meters from the beach ensuring the freshest of catches for supper.?At dusk the oil drum barbecues come out and the whole seafront becomes filled with the smells and sights of wonderful food grilling over coals on the warm sand, a few dollars getting you a whole grilled snapper, a plateful of grilled veg to go with it and a cold beer to round it out.?Just fantastic, one amazingly contented vibe.?
In this place the beach is everything.?It’s a road transporting goods and people from one end of the village to the other.?It’s a playground for the local children, a dining room for everyone, local and visitor alike.?A performance area for the fire jugglers and retail space for the trinket vendors, a means of making a living for the fishermen and, of course, home to the many village dogs.?Life in Koh Touch is a beach, bountiful, playful, practical and beautiful.?No wonder everyone here seems to be smiling all the time.
Six nights on this lovely island didn’t seem like any time at all.?Just like that it was time say our goodbyes, pack up and hit the road again.?The boat trip back to the mainland was bumpy but uneventful save for one slightly weird detail.?Sitting in the seats just in front of us was someone I thought I recognised.?Looking a bit closer it was indeed the self same bloke, my old government cheerleader Vince Cable.?Small world indeed.?A brief catch up chat revealed that he was still very proud of the work he did around promoting the concept of our Alternative Business Funding initiative, his support of Pension Led Funding and his role in getting the Bank Referral Scheme through parliament.?He said that he felt these things were a sign of good government. ?I completely agree.?Well said Sir, and thanks once again for your support.
Siem Reap.?Home to the world famous Angkor Wat temple complex, the largest religious site in the world.?Also home to lovely tree lined avenues, palaces, pagodas, delightful post colonial architecture, a brilliant Old Market, great hotels and restaurants and one of the tackiest and most god awful streets in all of the east, Pub Street, a deafening nightmare of neon, ear splitting crap music, hookers, backpackers in search of cheap booze and hustlers of every kind.?The only place in Cambodia where no one is smiling.?We went there to try to catch some Six Nations Rugby in a sports bar.?Don't.?Just don't.
Crap Street (sorry, Pub Street) aside, Siem Reap is our last stop in Cambodia.?In a whirl of memories and experiences our wonderful adventure is nearing its end.?But not quite yet.
Most visitors to this city are, understandably, focussed on its main attraction, Angkor Wat, which, if you are sufficiently nerdy, can take over a week to explore and understand properly.?Not being that nerdily inclined, and having seen an awful lot of temples, ruined or otherwise, we decided to give it one of our two days here and to spend the remaining day exploring the other parts of this lovely place.?As luck would have it our arrival coincided with the annual giant puppet parade which is held to celebrate the impending arrival of the New Year.
Organised by various non-profits this project brings together all kinds of kids, often with difficult backgrounds, into creative groups where design, construction and performance are taught and cultural heritage is preserved.?The event itself is magical.?The streets are packed with excited locals, all cheering as a parade of enormous bamboo and cloth puppets, animated by their controllers using traditional but ingenious systems of poles and pulleys, slowly makes its way past accompanied by traditional drummers, pipers and columns of dancing and singing schoolchildren.?In the dark of the evening it seems like the whole town is aglow with the lights from the puppets and thousands of lanterns.?Traditional figures are represented such as The Buddha, The Mother, The Farmer, complete with a giant carrot, and, best of all, the Tonle Sap Water Snake, easily thirty metres long and operated by a team of about forty kids all running left and right in synchronised?movements to set this great serpent twisting and slithering down the street.?
The Old Market in Siem Reap is great.?Bustling and very friendly, packed with the usual bewildering array of Cambodian delicacies, some tempting, others somewhat less so.?They also have plenty of clothes on offer, ranging from the hopelessly naff to actually quite nice.?Liz decided that now would be a good time to buy some baggy linen type cut offs in the local style.?Having?located a likely purchase she asked the charming lady stallholder whether they were available in her size.?With a dead straight face the nice lady said ‘yes, we have size for big butts.’?Ouch.
Not far from the Old Market is the rather wonderful Made in Cambodia Market.?This entire enterprise is owned and operated by Cambodians that have suffered physical injury, often from stepping on land mines left over from the recent conflicts.?Current estimates suggest that there are some four to six million land mines still armed and active, mostly placed by the Khmer Rouge.?Not surprisingly the injury and death rate from this grim legacy remains stubbornly high, particularly in rural areas where clearance efforts proceed at a slow pace.?One could forgive those affected, usually by loss of one or both legs, for feeling a bit sorry for themselves, after all, in Cambodia if you don't work you don't eat.
Not a bit of it.?These supremely dignified and resourceful people find ways of economic participation, often, as in the case of the Made in Cambodia Market, combining traditional skills of jewellery and craft making with materials left over from the conflict such as shell casings.?We shopped enthusiastically.
A word about dignity and courage in the face of severe adversity.?In my own country we seem to have a big chunk of the population intent on crapping on about supposed injustices that happened, in most cases, hundreds and hundreds of years ago.?Indeed there are whole political parties founded around a sense of grievance and childish antagonism towards other sections of the same nation.?In any reasonable discussion (vanishingly rare nowadays, sadly) this childish and selective approach to history would, at best, be considered racist.?I would urge anyone who considers themselves to be a victim of historical injustice to go to Cambodia and have that conversation.?This nation has seen nearly half its population murdered in horrifying circumstances by a deranged regime hell bent on delivering a poisonous ideology.?Less than fifty years ago.
Those lucky enough to survive faced further economic and physical deprivation, with the ever present threat of mutilation thrown in just to keep things real.?This country has no unemployment benefit system, no maternity leave, no free health care or education.?Your family unit provides both security and knowledge, kids, parents and grandparents all helping out.?As I said earlier, in Cambodia if you don't work you don't eat.?So everyone works, and no one ever does the self pity thing, whether or not they have lost a limb or two.?In a country which should be wracked with PTSD and assorted mental health issues these conditions are practically unheard of.?The one thing I have never heard a Cambodian do??Complain.?
So, Angkor Wat, the worlds largest religious site, UNESCO world heritage site and the greatest physical legacy of the amazing Khmer civilisation.?Pictures and descriptions are all very well but utterly fail to convey the majesty and grandeur of this astonishing feat of engineering and craftsmanship.?The main Angkor Wat temple itself is huge and very very beautiful, but it is, although the largest, only one of over three hundred temples scattered around the Angkor complex.?With a few exceptions most were constructed in the space of a few hundred years of each other, from around 900-1200 AD, the apex years of this amazing kingdom.
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Given that all of these massive structures, walls, carvings and bas reliefs were hand built the resources that would have been necessary to deliver this over such a relatively short space of time are mind boggling.?Some, like the incredibly atmospheric Angkor Thom, have become partially ruined, with trees and vines growing through them in true Hollywood style.?Indeed Angkor Thom and another nearby temple, The Bayon, feature heavily in the movie Tomb Raider, such is their charisma.?For from being tacky and touristy I found the whole Anchor complex to be fascinating, respectfully delivered and a true insight into a time of Khmer greatness, happening roughly at the same time as our own Norman Conquest.?Food for thought.
That’s it.?Time’s up, the lovely Siem Reap being our final stop in Cambodia.?The flight home beckons and soon Laos and Cambodia will be memories.?Extraordinary memories of extraordinary people.?Yes, the physical beauty of the place, its rivers, mountains, beaches and jewel like towns will stay with me for ever, of course.?
I have said before, as a consequence of their physical setting and recent history both Cambodia and Laos are emotional places.?Really though, the emotion is about the people.?You wouldn't believe that such warmth, kindness and generosity of spirit could survive all that they have endured and yet it does, all the stronger for their ability to put aside the suffering and concentrate on making tomorrow a better time, a better place, using optimism and kindness as their tools of choice.?Here you are never alone, never without a friend, never short of someone to help, guide or explain.?Physically beautiful people with beautiful souls.?Up from the ashes of disaster grow the roses of success.?And never so well deserved.?Farewell my friends, you are the best of us.