Before we get onto Cambodia:
Pattaya . . . if you could combine your standard Asian red-light district (quite raunchy), the French Quarter of New Orleans, and the old strip in Vegas, then line it with an endless strip of sand and turquoise water, you’d have Pattaya. We spent four days there and were pleasantly surprised how enjoyable it was in spite of its infamy . . . long days on the beach combined with relaxed dinners and evenings were the perfect “breath of fresh air” before Cambodia.
The only story worth telling from Pattaya was our experience on the Ichuban. We had finished a dinner at one of the waterfront restaurants and decided to walk along the water, maybe find another place to grab a drink before calling it a night. We came to the pier at the south end of the strip and were approached by a sharply dressed local who was marketing his boat cruise restaurant, The Ichuban (high-end Japanese hibachi cooked cuisine), which happened to be docked at the moment. We explained that our bellies were full and politely declined. We continued down the pier . . . moment later, the same gentlamen came sprinting after us, repeating his kind request for business. Turns out, it was their opening night and things were pretty slow. Slow as in nobody had set foot onboard all night (seems marketing dropped the ball). Seeing as I’m vying to become the patron saint of boat cruise restaurants, we agreed to a quick drink much to Sophon’s delight. We were escorted to the boat’s bar, located on top deck. No sooner than we had a couple of cold drinks in hand, the engines kicked on and the boat pulled away from the pier. Megan and I shot a startled look at each other and immediately waved the cocktail waitress over and explained that we had just agreed to a quick drink. Sophon showed up and asked if we wouldn’t mind taking a short cruise, about 1 hour, around Pattaya Harbor. No problem. For the next 2 hours, they cruised us, and only us, around the harbor on this boat built for 50. They even had a guy playing a variety of half decent cover tunes for us. Their first tab fetched them around $8, maybe enough to cover a quarter of the diesel bill for the evening. But because, the entire staff and Sophon, who turned out to be the manager, were so damn nice, we decided to splurge and book a dinner for the following evening. At the end of the evening, they treated us to a limo ride back to the town center.
The dinner was exceptionally delicious and enjoyable, and once again, the boat was ours. Megan got to live out her grownup fairy-tale of going on a “Bachelorette” (one of her favorite shows) style date, just the 2 of us in a very romantic setting with the entire place and staff at our service along with a beautiful sunset. I got to eat obscene amounts and types of surf and turf. We both were happy.
Onto Cambodia:
A couple days later, we boarded a bus in Bangkok at 7:30 am for Arranya Prathet, located on the Thai/Cambodian border. We arrived at the border around noon. After stepping through the necessary Thai immigration procedures, we walked across the border into Poipet, into Cambodia. My first impression of the town and country was that it was hell on earth, the armpit of the world . . . picture your local garbage dump, with somewhat of a town erected in it, hot, dusty, children begging everywhere, people doing jobs that are reserved for livestock throughout the rest of Southeast Asia. We have both seen desperate people and filthy places, but never the combination at such a staggering level . . . well beyond humbling to a shocking, numbing level. Fortunately, we got through the Cambodian visa acquisition and immigration process and landed into a comfy share-taxi with a couple of strangers, a fellow American and an Englishman, in less than an hour. We both knew that if we had just made our way through a typical Cambodian town, it was going to be a short, extremely short, stay in Cambodia. The share-taxi, a well used Camry, fired off and we headed east, toward Siem Reap. Picture the most awful road you possibly can in your mind, a combination of dirt and pavement with continuous potholes, deep as they come . . . make it 120 miles long. Now, go bombing down it at 40 mph the whole way. 3 hours later, we got into Siem Reap around 4:30 pm with a couple of new friends, a bit shell shocked, but with smiles on our faces. Fortunately, Siem Reap looked like Paris in comparison to Poipet . . . . charming little town with many guesthouses, a nice city center, complete with a nice market and bar/restaurant area. The town looks this way because it has Angkor Wat in its backyard, along with dozens of other temple/city complexes. Siem Reap is to Southeast Asia what Rome is to Europe. The Khmer empire spread across the region between the 10th and 14th century . . . . time of wealth and power and relative peace. The temples are incredible, almost inconceivably large. We set the alarm for 4:30 a couple of mornings in order to watch the sunrise over Angkor Wat . . . it was amazing, peaceful, romantic, wonderful, beautiful. After several days and a couple of early mornings, our temple gas tank ran empty and we set off for Battambang, where we currently reside. Battambang is Cambodia’s second largest city, but it has the feel of a small town . . . wonderful walking streets and very quiet at night. Tomorrow, we’re off to Phnom Penh.
Although the quality of life seems much improved in Siem Reap, Battambang, and the villages in between in comparison with our brief glance at Poipet, things are still very humbling, not shocking, but humbling. There are lots of “street kids”, more in Siem Reap than elsewhere, who are forced to beg by their parents in order to feed the family. Those without parents work for a boss, much like Oliver Twist. The kids come at you aggressively, selling postcards, bracelets, anything for $1 . . . their English is very good. When we tell them we’re from America, they always say, “Capital: Washington DC” followed by a popular phrase like, “How’s it hanging mister?”. We help a few out with money, but we’ve started to give food instead as it seems more responsible, not rewarding some boss with cash. Really, there’s no solution . . . money, food, whatever, the kids are still hard up. The country is in shambles after years of war and genocide. The countryside is full of landmines (no casual hiking) and limbless people wander the street, having lost an arm or leg working the fields.
Battambang is a different, happier story . . . the town’s economy doesn’t revolve around tourism and is much healthier. The children are children.
In spite of the tough aspects, the country is quite amazing. We’ve met some terrific people . . . . spent the last handful of evenings with the Englishman from our share-taxi to Siem Reap, who kind of reminds me of Good Will Hunting, brilliant 18 year old kid, wise beyond his years. We’ve met another charming Dutch couple, who are also similarly aged ex-working types who we share a lot in common with. We’re now well versed in Cambodian cooking as we completed a class yesterday . . . . terrific instructor, bit of a smartass, which made it even more enjoyable.
We are happy, healthy, hydrated, and rested.
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