Kho Chang; Elephant Island

Time was really pushing on, so we crossed the border back to Thailand for the last time, we’d only get 15days visa coming in by land so had to plan our time carefully. We had our sights set on Kho Chang an island in the northern gulf.

After some negotiations at the border with a mini bus driver and a quick trip to the small market to re-casio Kate and fetch me some replacement nose rings( you know Sihanoukville must have been a messy night), we were on our way to Trat province, we raced against time to make the last ferry and make it to the island that night…..as with most races against time, it proved to be unnecessary , as the ferry left an hour later then we had been informed.

We bused and ferried with some people that had been to the island several years ago when the it was no more then several small guesthouses offering beach huts. They had a lot to reminisce about when they saw the large hotel resorts and trail of 7/11 (thailands number one convience store) along the main strip just of sunset beach. Of course it would have been nice to see a couple of years ago when the place was more isolated…but to be honest the island was expensive enough as it is, so we welcomed the recent competition that kept prices down. Still we found food to be at prices well over what we would usually pay,(as you do off the mainland) so we frequented two cheap local eateries once we accepted that none of the cafes near to us offered budget food….we’d expereicned isolated beaches in India, namely Gokarna , which I imagine if we visit in a few years will be quite different. (maybe)…time changes all in the end, the hippies will seek out somewhere new as the party goers move in.

saying that, Kho Chang wasn’t a party island, we saw young people but the main visitors seemed to be ex-pats with their Thai wives and kids, or general rentals with hopeful men, in fact it was the most obvious place we saw western men with bought girls….funnily the girls all seemed to be not trying that hard with politeness to their customers/boyfriend and spent most time on their phones probably swapping stories with friends in the same boat- the men on the other hand would try hard to be polite and make conversation, quite amusing yet hideous to watch- though we cannot judge- just as me and Kate were complaining about money and expenses we were saying how we wouldn’t mind an older richer man to pay for everything and look after us…..

At the place we stayed we climbed the long stairs (part of the tsunami escape route) to our nice isolated hut first led by a scouser who worked at the hostel….stoned out of his head most nights….don’t believe the stories about not being able to smoke weed in Thailand due to the death penalty, in sleepy parts most police are too stoned themselves to notice…..possibly having bought their weed out of the money the hotel or cafe owners have used to pay them off….

The island was a paradise after drinking days- not once did we wake up screaming from a hangover, we lazed on beaches, drank spy and hired a motorbike again- best thing to do on an island where there are waterfalls, beaches and mangroves to drive to. Kho Chang however would provide a nice challenge for many Tour de France aspirates due to its ‘sharp curves’ and killer hills, challenge enough on a bike with a motor and automatic gears. A beautiful place to ride though, coming over hills to views of green trees and a beautiful ocean, we stopped at some white sandy beaches and rode though thunderstorms to parts of the island we could see still under sun.

We went to one of the several water falls on the island and spent some time reading and frolicking in the deep pool before venturing to lonely beach and been given the task by a bar owner to seek out males that the island obviously lacked, to invite to a party that night….apart from the ‘rentals’ and their clients the island seemed to house mainly single scandinavian girls (give it a few years and the boys will catch on to this paradise)…. we didn’t try too hard,in fact not at all, we werent planning of visiting that particular bar that night anyway…. this island was a wonderful rest, as fun as meeting new people and making friends is…it does get tiring.

Our adventure day, as we called it consisted of a ride to the other side of the island to find a place where we could go kayaking through the mangroves….inevitably we got lost and spent a long time driving the roads in-between sleepy villages and zooming down leafy roads, seeing what Kho Chang was all about…after going too far and backtracking through a storm cloud we found the mangroves and the kayak station. We rowed down through the paths of forest into a large basin, which on one side housed a small floating village, in the middle was a small island…strangely shaped like a stingray..we claimed the narrow path of shells for ourselves (though we had no flag) and looked out of the cove to the sea, back to the forest and the hills…and realised were in bliss,,…Kate comically fell into the water while trying to remount the beached kayak…she claims she was trying to pulling me to safety……a feeble claim as I was life jacketed and ready to kayak away.

After that excursion we returned to the bike. As we were half way or more to ‘long beach’ we decided to attempt what was unknown to us, a treacherous road….my ‘adventure strap’ (a white strip the sun hadn’t been able to get at as it had been underneath the strap of my faithful desert bag which had been across by shoulder) had deepened by this point after several hours spent on the bike already.

The road of death as we named it belonged to the devil with its steep hills and rocky road- so much so that it was impossible to ride with two on the bike- we made it over after some dismounting and left the thoughts about the possibility of getting back behind. We had reached the beautiful long beach- not that long all in all…another original name formed for tourists. It had cheap places to stay and a younger more ‘Zen-ed’ out crowd, but t’was ages and a devils road away from anything else.

We were leaving the next day so couldn’t stay on the beautiful white sand next to clear clear blue waters for the full moon, celebration bonfire that night….we had Satan’s path to cross again…..which, as with most bad things for a second time- wasn’t actually that bad…but then again we did know what was coming this time. We almost ran over a monitor lizard that ‘eats mammals and shit’ I hear, and small blonde girls as I told Kate, (as most things do) then drove the hour or so back to our beach.

Bangkok Finale

It was time to head back to bangkok for the fourth and final time….we stayed in the same place as we had done previously and visited the infamous golf bar for buckets and ‘the club’ on Khoa Sarn Rd. The red shirts had moved out of the commercial district and to the financial district instead, so the ‘backpackers’ hub was buzzing once more (though not as full as when we had first arrived- we could still actually move on the streets). We met yet another group of people from a large party of friends that had start out ravelling together- we had met the first group on the way to Laos and travelled with them, and the second group in Cambodia- now we met the last of them in bangkok- funny out of all the travellers we shoul meet the good friends of people we have already met. I’m sure there’s more of them waiting to jump out the woodwork!

All the things we had vowed to buy in bangkok on our last time in the city were still unbought when we pieced together our large coffin shaped package of things that we had accumilated in last three countries. The price to send the package to England was notably more then in India, but can you put a price on the books and clothes, diaries and mementos that have themselves seen so much? Either way we knew we would never want for clothes again, though I may feel quite akin to a Thai city girl when I go home in cutesy retro dresses….I’ll have to balance it out with all my dirty, gypsy things I picked up and trailed round for the last 6months. (though my rucksack looks some what like a cross between a gypsy and a person that doesn’t know how to sew, at the moment anyway)

Books are the hardest thing to part with when your travelling, you find a good one and your like..that has to go on my book shelf back home, except you can’t carry them with you so they must be swapped our sold or left behind in order to make your load easier. Many classics I’ll finds in a second hand shop back home I suppose. Though one ‘ The History of Secret societies’ written by a man in Calcutta I know ill never find again (so it has a special place in my rucksack regardless of how reliable the sources may be)

Our las night in bangkok we sat and had a bucket…as is necceasy, and had a street side leg massage, street pad thai, and spent our night sat in the co-ordened off smoking room in the club where other people provided so much entertainment.

A confused Canadian ;

‘ doctors and lawyers, you can thank my mother for that one….trees and branches….branches branches…you understand me don’t you?’

A sadly stereotypical brummie wearing just underwear ‘…if you’ve got it get it out yeahh! (then some things which are too crude to write…then to the un-complaining guy who’s knee she sat on ‘ I love nature too, its soo goood your job…i just love the trees and nature ‘ in a drunken put-on posh accent’

A comic Italian ‘ Kate…Kate like Kate moss? Ah Thank you Pete Doherty…but what are you doing Kate Moss!’ and then later after mauling a Thai girl ‘ Kate eet iz ok she is not my girlfriend, I just wanted you to know she iz not my girl friend’

and many more comical characters made the night.

Phi phi the island of dreaaaams.

I could of lived in phi phi..and not just for the free alcohol and parties every night….but for the beautiful scenery of the clear blue waters and surrounding cliffs and islands, swimming in beautiful lagoons, snorkelling, diving and cliff jumping opportunities- in the most dreamy setting. Wonderful people in entertaining dorm just within budget. Despite the usual expense of islands, we hardly spent a thing,
12 quid for a whole day tour of islands, snorkelling, throwing yourselves of cliffs with hangovers and to the beach were Leo Dicaprio once set foot to film ‘the beach; is pretty good going.
Our dorm was at a place called The Rock where peoples memories and x-rated drawings litter the walls around the bunks…my favourites include

‘ We Are The Vikings…We don’t ask..We take’ , ‘

You don’t sleep at the rock you pass out’

…….and similes involving otters pockets and mouses waist coats lend a hand to many many obscene quotations I cannot write here.
Strangely dorm rooms and drinking seem to make for a stay with a family feel…… and each evening we would gather to ready for dinner,(de-sand/salt plus beer)…then all traipse down to the best restaurant on the island, Papaya- it was by no means expensive, with dishes having to be shared due to the large portions and the food being just what is needed either; to restore energy from a days dive, snorkel or climb….or to line the stomach for a night of bad alcohol. This was a place where you could help your elf to drinks and ice, specify at what percentage of spice you would like your dish (30% always went down well) and where the cats slept in the bottom shelf of the glass fridge. They would wait at the door to be let in or for someone to reach for a cool drink and snooze away coolly..if only we’d had a human fridge to cool us..( our dorm, obviously being on the cheap, lacked aircon, so was more of a slow cooker…one had to lie strategically to make use of the small fans).
After dinner each night we would all return to the rock for reading and pre-drinks…no matter if it was your first day or your last….and with people coming and going each day there was always a different mix. The thing about phi phi that makes it cheap is that alcohol is basically free…yes FREE-.if you make use of the free buckets they give away at the beach bars each night.
There would be the opportunity to get 6 buckets,free of cost saving you 20quid if you were actually going to drink that much….with food being of island prices and accommodation not being particularly cheap such a promotion run by each bar was a god send. One could collect flyers on the street leading to the beach and head out for the first bucket between 9-9.30….each bar gave a 10min interval in which to jossel at the bar for your free bucket, if you were clever you just bar hopped with your flyers from Apache to Slinky’s to Ibiza, the nights usually went something like this for us’ drinking games and conversation on the long tables at Slinkeys followed by fire rope ( like skipping but with fire)and games involving balloons and fire at Ibiza, eventually ending ending at Apaches when enough buckets were collected, mixed and absorbed into the blood, for dancing and ring of fire( jumping through a giant ring doussed in petrol and set alight). The music only carried on till 1 most nights, but we were lucky to be there for full moon when they stretched till 3am. Dancing on the wooden platforms and benches to the typical playlist.
Drinking, dancing and partying didn’t come first and foremost on this island however. You were in amongst the most beautiful turquoise waters, white sands, green cliffs with strong sun and a constantly clear sky. I’d walked past a place advertising cliff jumping tours on the first day and knew it had to be done, and me and Kate were keen to go snorkelling, it was dirt cheap, a long half day out on the boat, cliff jumping, snorkelling, visintg shark point, a frolic in the calm azure lagoon monkey beach and watching the sunset on the famous maya beach. All for 12pounds. We booked on it one morning, determined to do something after spending the previous day in a hungover state. It ended up that most people from our dorm came along for the fun after we told them what we were planning, and everybody was keen for something to do- the cliff jumping especially- because after a drunken embarrassing night out we all need to through ourselves off a jagged cliff into some beautiful warm salty waters.

After India monkeys were nothing special for kate and I, and some people from our dorm had a hate of them after being subjected to monkey attack or robbery, others had never seen wild monkeys before…on Monkey beach they were as free as could be, except they probably got enough fruit of passing boats and could drink water from bottles held for them…so I doubt they had a hard life except for posing for pictures. Though it was fairly surreal to see the creatures throw themselves from tree branches into the sea, playfully attacking each other or diving for a lost piece of pineapple. Most were fairly clever, avoiding getting their fur wet by waiting for the waves to wash the fruit close enough for them to snatch out of the shallows with their little monkey hands.

For the cliff jumping we were given rubber shoes and woven gloves, for climbing and to protect our feet and hands from impact. We were jumping from some heights, starting from 10m all the way up to 20. For some reason throwing myself from great heights doesn’t phase me (and hasnt in the past)..and from my diving days ive learnt to take a hard hit from landing on water so I worked up to the 20metres.The guyss jumping after me as the shouts of ‘If a girl can do it!’ lured them on. Water is water from which ever height to me (though you can break your legs at over 30m) Some of the boys were phased on the other hand and landed painfully, I was the only one that managed to lose the gloves and shoes typically but iluckily retrieved most of them, the boat went away one glove down. Climbing jagged cliffs on a hangover is no mean feat and the easiest way down was to leap off if you manage to jump pain free…though I did manage to cut my lip, but not wind myself too badly. Defiantly the best part of the day.

Swimming in the luxurious lagoon was heaven, so blue so calm, so stereotypically beautiful and I could of easily spent all day their, but we had snorkelling to do….which again was awsome, seeing some massive golden coral and even a baby shark…I wish I had flippers and a snorkel every time I swam in the sea. Maya bay- the setting of the film ‘ the beach’ was as to be expected, thankfully it was small enough that no hotels had sprung up, just boats of tourists invading it each afternoon,a toilet block and a small shop for those come to watch the sunset across the bay…my camera had ran out of battery in the first hour of the trip, so ill be stealing some photos from fellow people at the rock.

The day had been long, fun and definatley the best way to spend a hangover…we hadnt eaten much all day so naturally we hit Papaya hard before we headed back to the rock to ready ourselves for another night…I gave up with exhaustion though by 11 and hit the hay….only to be woken when everyone came in at 2pm and told the man in his mosquito net in the bed next to me- that he would become a beautiful butterfly….in all fairness he did look like he was in a cocoon…..the legend of cocoon man will be remembered….
The people we met….in our dorm; Remi a wonderful french man that came back with a new tatoo each morning, asked us to wake him on the morning of our departure so he could ‘ watch us go’, A group of people who had stayed at the rock before and travelled with the guy we’d gone to a ping-pong show with in bangkok, 2 German guys, one from Cologne and one from the hills of Bavaria…who we constantly tried to get to yodel…which eventually he did and even showed us the traditional barbarian dance….. ‘ if you do it in lederhosen its not gay’ ( a quote soon added to the wall) .Several British guys who were good banter and a patriotic Canadian and Australian…..one which had a Swedish friend we deemed ‘Smash’…due to his powerful build and silent nature, ….plus another British couple who got on well with everyone……it all made for a lot of good laughs.
I became ill again towards the end trying to keep up with everybody else, but in the end it was time to go anyway as we had to bus to Malaysia before our visa ran out….obviously in such a wonderful place we pushed it right to the last day.

Phi phi had been the island of cats for us and for this reason amongst many, many others, we were sad to leave….though our bodies told us leaving was for essensital to regain health and our visa told us it was necessary, so after a good night out we rose early and departed the island and after a few hours on a bus we were crossed the Thai border for the last time on this 8month stint.

 Leaving the bad atmosphere of bangkok behind us we head for the border once more. Besides our visa is up and time is running down.

A comfortable mini bus to the Cambodian border at….was followed by what would have been an equally fine journey to Siem Reap, if we hadn’t of happened to be on a small bus with a large group of some other British girls. Lest say..we weren’t compatible..you get a very different type of tourist/traveller in South East Asia then India and although we were prepared for this it doesn’t stop the irritation seeping through on a long bus journey, especially when your ill and they won’t shut up bitching about home and how dirty this country is. ( If you dont like it GO HOME. Dont subject me to your drivel or rudely patronise me with offers of water in a vain attempt to stop me coughing)

I also asked a fellow British traveller if I could glance at his lonely planet for a hostel to head to….he looked at me like I’d offered to decapitate him. After some more then uncomfortable hesitation in which I smiled and assured him that if wasn’t O.K, I could cope,,…he then agreed. (I felt like I had lost all faith in fellow Brits travelling at this point)

We spied a place in that there book called Garden Village which turned out to have dorms for only a dollar a night….cheap yes, so we got what we paid for, outside mattress with mosquito nets on a raised platform…..was no problem for us apart from the unforgiving heat and humidity, but I doubt if we’d strechted to a fan room it would of made all that difference…besides we used the money we saved to go on a few more adventures.

I should explain that in Cambodia the national currency riel is used only for small change, US dollars are preferred with most shops pricing in the foreign currency. Its 4000 riel to a dollar, so anything under one dollar was paid for in riel not cents…This meant no coins, just a confused mixed currency. Almost a game, it was the aim to get rid of all your riel when ever you could, otherwise you’d be carrying around a mass of notes, and when you left Cambodia your hard pushed for anywhere to exchange the country’s low currency.

We ended up staying in Siem Reap for around a week, I’d like to think we took some time to relax and chill out, but in reality it was more time to sleep after hot temple exploring- thus hiding from the heat and resting our burnt out legs .(Its currently the hottest season in Cambodia with even the local sweating profusely.) We used a day or so but no more to recover from daily hangovers, self induced by a trips down pub street.(We’ve got to the point where if a hangover occurs it has to try hard to stop us getting out and about)

We had ben told about the legendary pub street by a few people ,who had only said good things as one would expect- the name speaks for itself…or so one would think….but the idea of pubs here and around is so different from ours, pub street was just a lot of restaurant bars (two of which stretched to dancing at around 1am) …No traditional British pub and of course…everywhere served buckets…on a less threatening scale then Bangkok and Laos, more a friendly place where you gathered at either Temple or Angkor What? bar to exchange stories and drunkenness, mixed with hopeful plans and arrangements to see temples the next day.

Ah the temples…..Angkor Wat itself seemed almost like a stately home, made supreme with restoration, impressive yes but not the overgrown, jungle temple complex invisioned in my head from whenst I was young- first hearing about ‘The lost temples of Angkor’.

Angkor Wat was situated in a vast open space with its moats and bridges either intact or more recently restored…there was no clue as to which and I’m no archeologist, still, interesting to walk through the cool stone corridors and marvel at the detail and size. I had forgotten much of what I had learnt from several brief documentaries or articles I had read about the ancient civilization, though I’m sure I’ll pick up something along my travels, or when I get home, so things are just enough to see and take in and let your imagination do the trick for the time being…facts can be bothered about later.

Our tuk tuk driver for the day took us next to Angkor tom, much more interesting atheistically with large worn Khmer faces looming out of the stone. We didn’t need to walk around every corner of it and step through every path way… but just sit on one of a high central point and drink in the atmosphere….though we would of liked to have been there without any other the other sight seers milling around…and I’m sure they felt the same.

The last temple of the first day was our favourite, more spread out across lower levels with trees threatening to pull up foundations as they grew in and around the stones. This was actually the temple they filmed Tomb Raider in I hear whispers say. Its hot and sweaty, but the stones are cool and we hear tour guides preach in French, English and Chinese to their groups.( we huddle in close to all but the latter to pick up information) The carvings as in all the temples we have seen are exquisite and detailed, topless curvaceous women dancing, gods akin to the Hindu ones I learnt about,and repeated patterns fading away or brought back to life by restoration. Of course this is an archeologists and architects dream, imagine piecing together the civilization that once lived here and figuring out how the massive jigsaw of such a temple fitted together….a whimsical idea, but then again id love to draw a map of them :>

The dappled light filter through the trees creating an illusion of coolness while the humidity rose with the heat of the day, the fig trees spread their webbing roots like spiders on ecstasy, fallen exquisitely cut slabs of rock – the building blocks of the temples gathered in heaped piles, so where they had obviously fell, others in pile made as a route way was cleared for visitors.

We had already earmarked a trip to the floating village, though we had envisioned cycling there as we were eluded to think that it wasn’t far…..after excepting that we would have to pay for a tuk tuk to cover the distance instead of hiring a very much cheaper one dollar a day bicycle we joined forces with a British couple who were keen to go too, turned out they were from Salford and Blackpool…..

A Goregous tuk tuk ride there breathing in the bright sun light dryingthe green pasture, gardens and open sided stilted houses made me fall even more in love with the country. We got on a boat that would take us down the Mekong to the edge of Tonle Sap lake…the massive lake rises by 12 metres in the rainy season. As it was the hottest time of the year, just before the rains, the lake was at its lowest murky and brown, with the house boats out on the lake scouring for fish rather then at the banks of the river- where they retreat to in monsoon. Glimpsing slices of peoples lives as we motored past, while they snoozed, work, ate, played- they must feel a bit on display with a few groups tourists coming to see their floating houses, but all in all the trip is very insightful…learning about the river, its wildlife and how the people here live….also it creates jobs for them, which in dry season when fish are scarce, provides income, and a trip always involves an excursion to a shop and restaurant where you feel obliged to buy a little something, even if it is just a cold drink.

There are some more sureal sides to it though, kids running round with large pythons rounds their necks asking for money in return of a picture…..other boats pulling up out of nowhere besides yours as a kid leaps across the gap to ply you with cold drinks and hops back to her boat just as quickly ans speeds off to hijack another boat….and when we disembarked from our long boat a women came rushing up to us forcing ceramic plates in our face, it took more then a second glace to realise the photo graphs stcuk in the middle of the plates were actually of us boarding the boat, a very comical souvenir that we had to refuse….they would just peal the photo graph stickers off and replace them with pictures of the next unawres models.

Siem Reap was full of adventures, and looking back one of my favourite places. we were intreiged by some of the temples out of the angkor area, which had been more or less left to their own devices in terms of nature, unrestored still over grown in the jungle, very close to how how they would have been found when first discovered by french explorers. Away from the crowds and very beautiful, we took a long, beautiful (if not a little hungover- well buckets and fellow travellers always make for good fun) tuk tuk ride to Mela Telek.

The cambodians are by far some of the loveslist people I have met, we stopped on our hour long ride to fix a flat tyre in the unforgivable heat, and were offered seats and good conversation from a beautiful 14yr old practicing her English and exchanged information about our families. In the burning midday sun we passed hammocks complete with their fill next to the raised wooden houses and dry fields that became lush when the yummy rain drops fell and even splashed us under the hood of the tuk tuk.

The temple was exactly as we had wanted it to be; mossy and untouched, deserted apart from a Mr. tomnness like character who gestured to us to follow him around one side of the once magnificent stoney south gate. He indicated before we even got near that we should follow his path up through the fallen stones for a better view of the inside of the temple walls. He led us along the narrow ledges around the edge of the now waterless moat and through half falled arches and door ways. We mazed, climbed, trickled, and stumbled around the fallen wonder, its massive stones and most magically the nature that had been left to creep through the foundations and walls, slightly distorting but mainly becoming part of the structure. I could of lived there, amongst the caved in stone libraries and creeping fig trees.

 Talcum Powder and Whiskey

We were lucky enough to be in the country for Khmer New Year, which coincides with new year festivals in Thailand and Laos…we had very much wanted to be in Thailand for Songkran their annual water festival, but visas permitted otherwise, Cambodians celebrations though were on a similar level I dare say with dancing and water being thrown in the streets- The main parties of the 3 day festival (of which they celebrate the days before and days after- so it turns into a 5 day festival) were held out of town in the forest by an ancient temple….We had had a tip off from a South African guy in Angkor What? bar the night before we went. He had been to the celebration that day and told us we had a missed an amazing party….if we knew what was good for us we should go the next day….So around 3 pm the following afternoon we hailed a tuk tuk, pre bought some wine ( we weren’t for starting on whiskey so early despiste the lead from the locals) and headed off.

The party in the forest was, in one word, magical. Thousands of Khmer people, either with families or friends were laughing trough the walkways of food stalls in the forest….a peace temple up a small hill one side of a dancing compound ring where some distorted kind of Cambodian dub-step was playing as young and old alike milled around a tree in the centre of the circle. The way to do it was it seemed to dance counter clockwise around the tree to one song…and on the next to stop still and dance in one spot for the next song’s duration.

As tradition many people were covered in white talcaum powder…which I can only guess is another symbol of cleansing in the New Year festival…naturally we joined in and once the khmer boys saw we were helping them celebrate they of course insisted on covering us in the more talcum powder then most…… the action preceed or followed by shouts of ‘Happy Khmer New Year!’

There were cafes set up serving food, also selling whiskey and Angkor beer in vast quantities…a man powered child fair ground ride squeaked around for the many numbers of young children joining in the festivities. Stalls selling freshly cooked meat – mainly chicken- were there in abundance, we joined in with the chicken and rice cooked in large bamboo sticks as the light fell and powerful hanging lights took over lighting up the still dancing crowd. A beautiful forest festival that felt like something from another world with orange/brown dust being kicked up amongst the dark green shrubbery and tall trees… marring vision and along with the grey smoke from cooking meats.

Beyond the land of the Temples.

After a little more rum at Angkor what? Bar we were up the following morning for a bus to Phenom Pehn, we hadn’t planned to spend a long time in the capital, mainly because we had heard it was even more humid then Siem Reap had been ( a ghastly thought) and with less to really see. I think you have to have an understanding the recent history of Cambodia to have an understanding its people and its cities. The mass genocide caused by Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge in the 50s still scars the country and the current generations, though memories are slowly diminishing and as of yet there is no teaching about the blood past in schools.

I didnt know much about the Khmer Rouge before going to Phenom Penh, I had only a vague idea, but I picked up a memoir in Siem Reap called ‘ First They Killed My Father- a daughter of cambodia remebers‘ by Loung Ung. So it was only after visiting the killing fields and reading the enthralling story of a young child, did I start to really appreciate and gain an understanding of the country and its people.

I knew the country was poor and that the Khmer people had encountered great losses and suffering, but I didn’t know the whole story behind it. At the killing fields you are greeted by a memorial 20m or more high, with glass panels all the way up showing shelf after shelf of skulls and bones found in the mass graves at the killing field. This was where many of the people deemed to be rich, educated (even those who wore glasses) or un-pure (of foreign blood) were sent in order to cleanse the country.. The site was as haunting as the descriptions by Luang Ung, but it showed me another part of the world, its political troubles and mass suffering that I had never been exposed to, never had it been covered in history lesson ( in my school we mainly learnt about British history, politics, religion)

So after our brief, if not spirit damping spell in the capital, we headed for a place called Sihinoukville, a beach town that is deemed to become very popular in the next 5 years…..and it will, with all the development and bars springing up its likely to become the Costa del Sol of Cambodia with Westerners and richer Cambodians from the capital, making weekend trips to the coast. A lot of apartments were being built and the beach already flooded with chilled out bars offering sea food buffets and late night drinking (‘buckets’ were a plastic drinks bottle cut in half)….made for a good setting, though lacking the people and the beautiful space to house such commercialism. (for the time being)

Fun was had on all accounts, first night syndrome with buckets galore always houses some good stories, memories and thankfully/unfortunately not photographs. I definitely wish our time in Cambodia could have been longer for some more exploring but yet again it was time to go back to Thailand, for the final time, visit the last few towns and islands,then and head further south to Malaysia.

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