Little compares to Cambodian bus travel. It takes at least two hours longer to arrive at a destination than estimated. Nine times out of ten a tire blows out and needs to be replaced. Rest stops are taken at illogical intervals, usually at the whim of the driver who will sit down for a three course hot meal as little as 10 kilometers away from the final destination. Passengers (er, Cambodian passengers) also get a whole lot of say for when the bus stops. One drunk man halted the bus at least five times to take a piss on the side of the road. Yet the real clincher has to be the deafening tune of Cambodian karaoke DVDs played on repeat. After a few 8 hour rides, I’d memorized several of the songs, all a variation on the same melodramatic plot-line of unrequited love.
Yet the real highlight of bus travel in Cambodia is that it offers a fascinating glimpse of daily life. Westerners tend to live at the end of long driveways, behind fences, walls and in the privacy of homes. Cambodians carryout their daily life out in the open, often alongside the curves of the country’s main thoroughfares. We see them caring for their children, tending their rice fields, showering, and gathering for a meal.
Aside from the landscape — flat rice fields dotted with coconut and palm trees (opposed to the mostly hilly landscape of Thailand and Laos) — the most obvious scenic difference in Cambodia are the homes. Few thatch roofed and bamboo houses here. Even the poorest villages are checkered with elegant yet simple Khmer wooden houses with striking carved wooden detail decorating their eaves.
We made our way to Kampot and Kep, two small towns within a short 30 minute ride from each-other. The former is known for its pepper plantations and friendly provincial town while the latter is known for its ocean views. We spent a day in Kampot riding around its surrounds by motorbike past salt pans, Cham Muslim neighborhoods and rice fields, to caves with a fifth century Hindu temple. Nearly every turn provided sightings of smiling locals waving and saying hello. During a stop for a snack of spicy papaya salad with what we believed to be raw (eek) crab, we were even invited to join some locals for a celebratory birthday drink of homemade palm wine.
From Kep we took a choppy boat ride to the quiet Rabbit Island, a favorite of locals. Two days by the water doing nothing but swimming, drinking coconut water and reading a good book did the trick to cure our travelers’ fatigue. At night, once the generators died and the island turned pitch black, the ocean became phosphorescent. Breaking waves looked like lines of stars and a sweep of the arm spawned a trail of diamonds. Two of the adorable stray puppies that populated the island guarded the door of our simple thatch bungalow that night while another slept under our bed.
really nice pictures!!
http://rodposse.com/
I don’t think that it could be more beautiful than what your photos and words convey. The bus ride sounded painful but the gift of the beach and the puppies at the end made it all worth while.