adrenaline postcards
by the adults who experienced it all
Bangkok, Thailand to Siem Reap, Cambodia
Number One: Priced To Take Your Breath Away
Up before five in order to board the third-class-only train to the Cambodia border. We shared it with a few other backpackers and an ever-changing crowd of locals; school children, office workers, housewives carrying bags of green vegetables, middle-aged sleeping men, grandmas with babies, young men selling baskets of long green beans, bamboo shoots and dried fish.
Time taken: almost six hours
Distance travelled: 314km
Cost: less than NZ$2.50 for adults, half or free for kids. Prices like that get the adrenaline pumping!
Number Two: Bargain Hard
As one tout would say later in the day, “You know your prices, don’t you?” Yes, we did and that meant not budging. You just have to be patient. Tuktuk drivers meet you from the train, they know you want to go to the border. They try to charge you 100baht. But you use a little Thai, and be quietly patiently insistent enough for a good five minutes and you manage to halve the cost. We’d been told 40-60baht, so 50 was fair.
Tuktuk Driver doesn’t take you to the border, though. He takes you to an Express Visa Office where they try to rip you off charge an inflated price for walking your visa 50 metres up the road to the consulate.
We refuse their express service and are driven the short distance.
Although we had information that indicated only our eldest two would require visas as under-12s are free, we were informed all would have to pay as they all had their own passport. And, of course, there was no special child rate. In fact, rather than the US$20 we were expecting, we were informed we could only pay $20 if we stayed in the town for two days, otherwise, it would be $30. I was not about to be ripped off, but when almost ten minutes of gentle persuasion was getting nowhere, I called in the imposing male presence to stand at my right hand. He not only stood, he reminded me to ask for an official receipt. Aha, we were on to something. Not immediately, but eventually. After five rounds of explanations that the visa is the receipt and this government does not issue anything else our price was suddenly dropped to $25 each. We still hung out for a receipt…..and then finally……we were told we would have to wait while a special check was performed on our documentation and that we could pay $20. We waited victoriously.
And gathered strength for the next storm.
We were not even through immigration when we were pounced upon with offers of a minivan to Siem Reap.
“How much?”
“You see the van and we talk how much.”
But he didn’t wait until we had seen the van; as we downed a few plates of fried rice, he stood close by and started telling us exceptionally-over-inflated tour bus prices and we countered with local bus prices. Not that we ever had any intention of taking the eight hour local bus when a van could get there in the half the time and a taxi in even less 😉 The conversation continued over the next half hour, with Mr I’m Giving You Much Help Watching Your Bags And Organising Your Transport getting just a bit too pushy. We ditched him a number of times, saying we were fine on our own. One of those times was the point he observed how well we knew our prices! Emerging from Thai immigration, he returned to us like a cat to a half-dead mouse, and he started to play again. Having no choice, but to walk in the direction he was shepherding us, we followed, keeping up the no-we-will-not-pay-your-expensive-price conversation. No other no-man’s land had taken so long to walk through – and it wasn’t the distance that made it seem far!
We had a short reprieve from omnipresent Mr IGYMHWYBAOYT as we crammed into an airless tightly-packed concrete customs room. Then he was on to us again. We semi-agreed on an acceptable price, and went to inspect the van. No van. “But I give you three taxis same price.” Having bartered hard all day, and knowing this hiccup would actually benefit us timewise, I was ready to collapse into one of the chosen taxis, but Rob, who had by this stage become frustrated at the frequently changing story and pushiness, issued one last we-will-find-our-own-transport-thank-you-very-much-threat, especially as one of the taxis had no boot! At exactly the same moment dear Mr IGYMHWYBAOYT started singing his own praises, telling us how he had looked after us, saved us from pickpockets, watched our bags, organised our transport and now needed to reimbursed for his service, despite agreeing a matter of minutes ago to forgo his fee. I argued three times, ushered some children into a taxi and folded myself in after them. Rob did the same and we waited. Apparently he sorted something with the taxi drivers, because money changed hands, and we were not left sitting motionless. Far from it…..but that’s the next postcard.
Number Three: Who Needs Disneyland When There’s A Roller Coaster Like This?
It started off sedate enough, apart from the overtaking every vehicle on the road in front of us, resulting in spending more time on the wrong side of the road than the right as we zipped through Poiphet. This would not have been so bad if the drivers could have seen the oncoming traffic, but two of the three cars were right-hand-drive cars……driving on the right-hand side of the road.
Leaving the town behind, we entered rice-filled countryside that was flat and straight on a newly-tarsealed road. Cambodia was “supposed to” be poorer than Laos, but we couldn’t get over how big and freshly-painted the houses were, how smooth and wide the road was, that there were traffic lights, that there was not as much dust….
Then it changed.
It appears that the decision had been made to upgrade about 100km of road between Poiphet and Siem Reap. The tar seal was gone, in its place a metal road… graded in some places, raw in others. Every few kilometers was a bridge being constructed – but unfinished and hence requiring a loop detour down and around the bridge as a single dirt “track” and then winding back up to the “road”. (We would have expected to se men with signs telling traffic to proceed in only one direction at a time – but they both went together and somehow squeezed past each other…..that is, when the drivers did think they knew better than the detour signs….more than once the cars zipped between the signs and used the not-yet-completed bridges). In addition to this, every couple of kilometers were regular humps in the road of dirt – about 1 1/2 metres high and certainly interesting when navigated at anything more than 40km/hr. Testing both the suspension of the cars and the stomachs of the cars’ occupants as frequent semi-weightlessness was experienced continued mile after mile. In addition, all of these metal roads were covered with a fine, brown dust. Just like in Laos. Dust that rose behind the frequent trucks in clouds so thick that visibility was reduced to about 20m. And still our drivers managed to hit 120km/hr in places – don’t ask me how! These conditions were further heightened by the Cambodian driving motto – “If the road looks better on the opposite side…then use it!” Just honk your horn at oncoming traffic and make them get out of the way!
As if that was not scary enough, dusk soon arrived, and then nightfall. Imagine the same bumpy, twisty, roller-coaster ride in the dark…where Cambodian ladies on bicycle would suddenly appear out of the gloom, where motorcycles with no headlights would ghost towards the car (as we were often on the wrong side of the road), where trucks would be parked on the side with all possible reflectors rendered useless by the thick dust coating the vehicles, where the local tractors would suddenly appear, having only one headlight, but towing a full-width cart full of rice or straw. All these obstacles were skilfully avoided by our competent drivers, who I am sure did not notice our white knuckles gripping onto the door handles! Even still, all but one A-family member (but none of the H’s!!) managed to fall asleep for a part of the journey – adrenaline can be overcome by exhaustion!
Number Four: Fire! Fire!
It was almost 9pm when we left our dinner restaurant. It had been a very long day (see above <wink>) and we resolved to walk straight past the interesting things in the market and head directly home, stopping for nothing. That was until we saw motorbike after motorbike after motorbike coming along the street; it looked like a bike-ie convention had hit town. Then someone commented on the dusty atmosphere and someone else observed a smokey aroma.
Rounding a corner we discovered flames leaping out of a building and crowds of people congregating, like bees around a hive. Motorbike engines were humming, whistles blowing and sirens blaring as the traffic came to a complete standstill. Both sides of the river were lined with hundreds and hundreds of pedestrians and bikes. Suddenly a shout sounded and the crowd surged. With visions of stampeding masses, we grabbed children and joined the run. Trying to control their fear, they could be heard asking with quivering voices, “What’s happening?”
“Hold hands and don’t let go. Stay together.”
Explanations could come later, not that we had any idea. According to our guesthouse owner, who had heard all about it by the time we got home, it was a large supermarket with cooking facilities on the top storey – no electricity, just fires. Tonight a very big fire. Why the crowd surged, we do not know, but we did not hang around to find out.
There is a limit to how much adrenaline one needs in a single day.
Tags: money, postcard: Cambodia, postcard: Thailand
rayres
That border crossing is an experience. 🙂 OMG…..I saw those taxis hurtling along and was so grateful we had organised other transport. Apparently you can offer them extra $$ to stay below 100km/hr. Am enjoying keeping up with your adventures. Wishing you all a peaceful joyous ‘Christmas’ and a wonderful New Year.
Hello…I just wanted to let you know that I really enjoy your web-site, lots of really neat information and fun to read.
My family of 5 just returned from a month in Thailand and Laos. We had a really great time and I wanted to let you know that when we were in Chiang Khong, a lady on the street was telling us about, “the family from NZ that had 8 kids….” It was funny that we knew who you were…I also wanted to let you know that you are not forgotten by those who’s paths you have crossed!
Have fun… I wish we could have a longer experience like you all, but I will continue to follow your blog! Take Care and God Bless!
Katie
Colorado, USA