Mark’s Vagabonding Blog

***Before you read “A Border Crossing Adventure, Parts 1&2”, let me just say that it’s been a while since I’ve written them and I’ve since regretted some of the ways that I tried to save money on this trip. I now realize it was uncool, and I feel bad about it. But at the time I needed to make a limited amount last a year+ with absolutely no income, and that’s all I thought about. If I had it to do again, I would not have been as frugal (and probably would have enjoyed myself a little more too). But don’t let this stop you from reading them, it’s still a good read, Thank you, Mark***

With only a couple more days left on my Thai visa, it was time to get out of here before they hunted me down and deported me. If you recall from my last post, I was currently in Chanthaburi, Thailand. A brief stop on my way to Cambodia.

On my way out of the River Guesthouse in Chanthaburi, I asked the desk clerk how much a motorcycle taxi to the bus station should cost. He said about 30 baht. So I went out to the motorcycle taxi drivers on the corner and told them I needed a ride to the bus station.

Then I said, “Saamsib baht?” (“thirty baht?”)

One of the drivers said, “Bus station? Twenty baht.” (“Bus station? Twenty baht” . . . oh wait, no translation needed, he said it in english.)

Now that’s what I like to see, an honest motorcycle taxi driver. The other driver there was the one who took me to the station. They take turns.

At the bus station, I boarded the 12:00 noon bus to Trat, or if you prefer, Trad, it doesn’t matter, it’s all phonetics. An hour later, in Trat, I had to find the minibus stand for a ride to Hat Lek, or if you prefer, Had Lek, the border town between Thailand and Cambodia. From my readings I thought it would be directly across the street, but it wasn’t. It was across the street, but about 100 yards to the right. It’s just a very small stand, 3 guys at a table, next to a very small market.

I knew ahead of time that that the price would be between 100-110 baht for the hour long ride. The sign at the stand said 110 baht. I told them I needed a ride to Hat Lek, and one of the guys said, “one hundred and twenty baht.” Oh no, not again, I thought (see previous post). So I pointed to the sign that said 110 baht. Everyone laughed. I paid 110 baht.

The minibus was almost full, which was good, because they don’t leave until it’s full. Two more seats needed to be filled, and within 5 minutes, they were filled. Off to Hat Lak we go. I was the only foreigner on the minibus.

About halfway there I started to get a little nervous. Not because I was the only foreigner on the bus, but because I was about to cross the border into Cambodia. I’d heard these land border crossings can be quite a harrowing experience if you let it. And I was about to let it. They say there are more scams there than at a 3-card monte convention. And I was prepared to take them on. Also, I planned on taking the 4-hour speedboat to Sihanoukville, they day after I crossed, which they also say could be harrowing. And I’m not good with boats. So I had a lot to be nervous about.

The minibus driver dropped off other passengers along the way, until I was the only one left on the bus. Then suddenly, this guy became Rusty Wallace. I guess the life of one white guy and himself isn’t worth cautious driving. But we made it to Hat Lek in one piece. And a nanosecond after I stepped off the bus, I encountered my first scammer. But his scams won’t come until later, he’s just a tout who acts like he’s my best friend, and will help me easily get my visa, and get across the border. But you do need them eventually, because they are your ride into the town of Koh Kong. But first it was time do deal with immagration.

On the Thai side of the border there is no problem at all, everything is straight forward. You go to the immigration booth, they stamp your passport and you’re on your way, with your tout, I mean your best friend, right beside you. You then walk a few yards to the Cambodian immigation station. They hand you the visa application, and you fill it out, all with the help of your new best friend.

“You write your name right there.”

“You mean where it says ‘name’?”

You hand in your completed application, and your passport, along with a passport photo, then the fun begins. It’s time to pay for the visa. A Cambodian visa costs $20 U.S., anytime, anyplace. At certain land border crossings, probably all, the immigration officers will charge you 1000 baht, which is about $25 U.S. That’s a $5 profit which goes directly into their pockets. Five dollars is a lot of money here. And according to Cambodian law, that’s illegal, as it should be. Most travellers either don’t realize this, or they just don’t want the hassle, and they pay the 1000 baht. But if you know me at all, then you know that I won’t stand for that shit. So I was ready to take on Khmer immigration.

I handed over my application, passport, and photo, and true to form, the officer said, “One-thousand baht.”

I took out a U.S $20 bill, and laid it on the table.

“One-thousand baht,” he repeated.

I calmly said, “The price for a Cambodian visa is twenty U.S. dollars.”

“We only take a thousand baht.”

I left my $20 bill on the table, but the wind was blowing other papers around, so he put it underneath my application. I said, “The price is twenty dollars.”

There were 3 guys behind the desk, all wearing white t-shirts. Sitting at a table to the left, and perpendicular, was a man dressed in full uniform. I took him to be the head officer.

Again, White T-shirt said, “One-thousand baht.” He said it kind of robotic like, as if that is the only thing he ever says.

The uniformed officer now had my passport, while White T-shirt and I continued our impasse. And don’t let my hard stance fool you, I was plenty nervous. I’m in freakin’ Cambodia fighting with the immigration officers! And hey, where’s my best friend when I need him? Funny he’s not helping me out here.

Finally White T-shirt handed my $20 bill back to me. Oh oh, I thought, They’re not going to let me in.

Then finally, Uniform spoke. He said sternly, “One-thousand baht.”

I only had one trick up my sleeve, other than holding my ground, or paying the 1000 baht. So I pulled it out.

“Okay, can I have a receipt then please?” I said.

Silence.

Then an Australian guy, not realizing what was going on, paid his 1000 baht to the White T-shirts. As he counted out his baht, he said, “How come you guys don’t accept U.S. dollars?” Of course, his query went unanswered.

The 3 T-Shirts continued their work logging in the applications of those who were issued visas, and now it was just me and Uniform. He glanced at my application.

“This is not complete,” he said. “There’s no address of where you stay in Cambodia.”

It was true, I’d left it blank. So I took the application back to the counter to include an address. Oh, and here’s my best friend, come to help me again. How nice of him. I filled in the spot with the name of one of the guesthouses I had written in my notepad. I think my friend could sense my nervousness now, and smelled blood.

I handed the application back to Uniform. I guess it was acceptable. He was now looking at my passport. He asked about the trip I took to Thailand last year.

He said, “You went to Thailand last year on October eighth, and left on October thirty-first. Then come back to Thailand this year on October eighteenth. Where you go in between, there’s no stamps?” At least that’s what I think he said.

I said, “I went back home, to America. They don’t need to stamp my passport for that.”

Then he looked at my Thai visa which is in my passport. I got it from the Thai consolate in New York before this trip. It has “New York” typed on the visa.

He said, “When you go to America you stay in New York”?

“That’s where I got the visa from,” I said. “The Thai embassy is in New York.” I wanted to add, “dumb ass” but I might not be sitting here right now if I did.

After staring at the visa, and the Thai entry and exit stamps for about 2 minutes, he finally extended his hand to receive the U.S. $20 bill. I gave it to him, he put it in the drawer, and he proceded to stick the Cambodian visa in my passport. Then he stamped the entry stamp on, and handed it back to me.

“Thank you,” I said. I didn’t say it sarcastically or anything, but I did say it like, “Thank you for ultimately doing the right thing.”

There was one more formality at another station, where they do something with your passport, and take your picture on a webcam (they did this on arrival in Thailand too), that went off without a hitch.

Wow, I’m one of the very few people ever to pay the real price, $20 U.S., at a land border crossing into Cambodia from Thailand. Now with my confidence level rising, it was time to deal with my tout . . . .

Tags: border crossing, Cambodia, Markcs, scams, Thailand

This entry was posted on Thursday, December 22nd, 2005 at 11:13 am and is filed under Cambodia, Thailand. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.