Bangkok

We've survived Phuket and made our way up to Bangkok, though for a little while it didn't look so good. We'll be seeing the sites here over the next couple days before heading home Sunday.

"We've come to take your culture."
Last night was interesting. We decided to go up to Patong Beach for dinner and a ladyboy cabaret. Meg called dibs on that story, so I'll leave it for her to write. For now, I'll just say that Bangla makes Bourbon St. look like Mayberry.

This morning we opted to check out a different type of wildlife. We hopped on a package tour up to a gibbon preserve on the other side of the island. Very touristy -- the tour included elephant and buffalo cart rides -- thing to do, but in our defense, we were in Phuket, touristy is the only option.

Anyway, we're in Bangkok now, holed up in funky old hotel (The Atlanta), now so all is right(ish) with the world again. Now I just need to go wash the Phuket off of me.

Enjoy.

Phuket

Swim-up bar at the Phuket Orchid Resort.
The weather and tides kept us from diving yesterday, so rather than sit on Phi Phi watching the rain we decided to make our way to Phuket a day early to take advantage of the fancy pants resort here. I'd forgotten how nice air conditioning, hot water and toilets that flush when you press a little lever can be. The hotel is across the highway from Karon Beach on the western side of Phuket island. It's one of those fancy places that has big pools with swim-up bars.

Phuket itself is sort of tourist hell. Everything is expensive and covered in neon -- imagine Panama City Beach with Thai hookers and ladyboys. We ate dinner at at a Scandanavian restaurant last night. Their menu consisted of Thai food, pasta and pizza. But they did serve Aquavit, so I guess that makes them Scandanavian. The pizza was tasty.

I'll post some pictures when I can find a computer that's USB ports don't look diseased.

Enjoy.

And then there were two

So it's down to just Meg and and I now. Phil and Maya left for Bangkok a couple days ago. If my calculations are correct they're in the air, a few hours from NYC at the moment.

The night before they left, we all went out to dinner with the folks from the dive shop we've been using (Paradise Diving on Long Beach Koh Phi Phi, if you find yourself in the neighborhood. Ask for Adam.) We had a massive feast of fish of all sorts and prawns and beer. A good time was had by all.

View from the lean-to on "Small Beach."
After an early breakfast to see the others off, Meg and I hiked up on to one of the hills to another resort -- currently closed until high season -- overlooking our beach. A little sign saying "Small Beach" pointed down an overgrown path through the jungle. Not having anything better to do, we decided to see where the path lead. True to the sign, there was a tiny patch of sand nestled among the rocks. Someone (turned out to be an industrious Austrian family) had built a lean-to out of sticks, banana leaves and palm fronds, so we spent most of the morning relaxing in the shade, reading our books and watching hermit crabs race across the sand.

We spent most of yesterday diving. The visibility wasn't quite as good and there were some pretty strong currents but we still managed to have a good time and see some cool fish (including yet another leopard shark).

The mouth of Pi-leh Bay, setting of the movie The Beach
Today we're sort of bumming around. It's been storming a bit -- no good for diving -- so we came into to town to do some exploring. We might dive again tomorrow, depending on how the reports about today sound. We fly to Bangkok from Phuket Friday and then head home from there Sunday so we're nearing the end of our trip. We might head to Phuket a night early and spend a night in one of the fancy places there, but we'll see.

Enjoy.

Hurts so good...

Hiring someone to give you a Thai massage is only steps away from hiring someone to torture you into submission. They're both posted on signs along the good girl's highway to S&M. Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration, but still -- there is something a little off about asking a very old, very strong woman to dig her thumbs into your legs and arms until you're quite certain that a) you're really going to scream this time she presses and b) tomorrow you'll be covered in dark blue, thumb-shaped bruises. So why subject yourself to such torture? Well, because afterward you feel darn skippy.

Yep, I got my first Thai massage of the trip on Saturday. The masseuse may have looked old and frail, but whatever she's been up to during her life has left her stronger than the largest WWE wrestler (either prior to steroid use or following!). I spent the first part of the massage lying on my back until the lovely thatched roof beside the sea listening to the waves crash on the shore while trying my hardest not to scrunch up my eyes too tightly when a finger dug a little too deep into a sore muscle. (In these situations, admitting pain is either a) setting yourself up for a weak and unsatisfactory massage or b) asking your sadistic masseuse for a beating -- and there's no way to tell which you'll end up calling forth ... neither is good)

I was thoroughly proud of myself for not squeaking once during the massage and for keeping my face in a largely "oooo, look how relaxed and bendy I am" position for much of the time. I guess the masseuse took this as a challenge because near the end she first stood on my legs (which was actually quite nice once she stepped off of them), then she bent me forward and pretty much sat on my back. Having tight legs, that wasn't going to happen -- at least not to the degree that she had hoped -- so out came my squeak of pain...followed shortly by her laughing.

You never win against your Thai masseuse -- especially if she's old enough to be your grandmother and hiding amazing upper-body strength in those bony hands. You just give in and let her torture your into submission. But really, it's great.

In fact, I'm planning a return trip tomorrow. Perhaps by the end of the week my head will reach my knees when someone sits on me.

Still on Phi Phi

We're still on Phi Phi, enjoying the sun and diving. Phil and I have both enjoyed the sun a little too much and are now a bit on the pink side, but tons of aloe are helping with that.

Sunset from the beach on Koh Phi Phi.
Phil and Maya finished their Open Water Diver course, so the four of us went on a couple of dives yesterday. The dives were spectacular, we saw all sorts of marine life -- a leopard shark, turtles, sea snake, eels, lobster, giant shrimp, sea slugs, giant clam. The diving was all around a small just of Phi Phi called Koh Phi Phi Lay. We had lunch on a small beach there in Loh Samah Bay. The islands around here are stunning massive cliffs rise straight up out of the water, giving way occasionally to small white sand beaches.

Loh Samah Bay on Koh Phi Phi Lay.
The only downside is the cost. Both the diving and accomodations are a bit pricey here. So Meg and I are considering heading to the east to Koh Samui and Koh Tao -- her old stomping grounds -- where things are a bit cheaper.

Phil and Maya head to Bangkok early tomorrow to begin their journey home. I think we're going to try snorkeling with the blacktip reef sharks before they leave tommorrow morning. I'll let you know how it goes.

Enjoy.

BTW, I went back and added pictures to some of the Laos posts. Check them out, if you want.

Koh Phi Phi

The view from the front porch of our bungalow.
Beaches, bungalows and beers. That's what we've found here on Koh Phi Phi (pronounced pee-pee ... huh-huh). We arrived by ferry yesterday afternoon and haven't done much since. A lot of lounging on the beach and some swimming. Today we walked into town to pick up some supplies and walk around. Pretty laid back. Phil and Maya finish their open water course today, so we'll all go diving tomorrow ... and the next day ... repeat.

I'll post more later, but the internet rates are killer here, so they'll be short. I have a couple of backlogged photos to add too -- Vientianne, Tad Fane and Meg the Momma Cow.

Enjoy.

Into Thailand

Pha That Luang, one of Laos' holiest sites, in Vientiane.
Meg and I have crossed the border into Thailand. We're spending the night in Udon Thani -- not the nicest of places -- before flying to Phuket in the morning. From there we'll take a boat out to Koh Phi Phi and meet up with Phil and Maya for some beach time and diving before they have to leave.

Vientiane was nice. It was the only place we visited in Laos that I would truly call a city. Pakse was close, but didn't quite make it. Of course, Vientiane is crowded with backpackers and ex-pats -- and businesses catering to them -- so it didn't have as much of the exotic feel as sopme other places. We spent yesterday sightseeing around the city and resting after the overnight bus ride from Pakse. This morning we rented a motorbike in a futile effort to find a park full of Buddha sculptures somewhere south of the city. It probably would have been more efective to hire a jumbo -- a vehicle like the Cambodian tuk-tuks crossed with a pick-up truck -- to get out there, but the motorbike was an adventure and we did get to see some of the countryside around Vientiane.

The overnight bus from Pakse to Vientiane.


We rode a bus from Vientiane across the Thai-Laos Friendship Bridge over the Mekong. The Thai passport control post -- and this is a major crossing mind you -- made the little huts in the jungle at the Cambodia-Laos border seem positively top notch. We spent at least an hour in line because the officer checking passports felt compelled to pull stray staples from old departure slips out of every passport he touched. It was infuriating.

Sorry I don't haven't any pictures up at the moment. The fickle hand of third-world computing has been preventing me from uploading pictures. As soon as I can, I'll get some stuff up so you have something pretty to look at, not just my blathering.

Enjoy.

On the way to Vientiane

Meg and I are back in Pakse trying to make arrangements to get from here to Vientiane. We've spent the last couple of nights in a bungalow on cliff overlooking the waterfall at Tad Fane.

Tad Fane on the Bolaven Plateau.
On Friday Phil, Maya, Meg and I set out with a French family on a tour of the Bolaven Plateau. The plateau is the home of the Lao coffee and tea industries, a number of absurdly picturesque waterfalls and is the traditional home of a handful of Laos' smaller ethnic groups. Accordingly, our tour stopped at a coffee plantation, a couple of tribal villages and three different waterfalls. It was all quite nice, though it would have been better if our driver/guide had spoken at least a little English or French, or if we spoke Lao. As it was we had to be satisfied with the driver pulling to a stop, pointing at something, then telling us the name. At the end of our tour, the driver dropped Meg and I at our hotel and took the rest of the crew back to Pakse (if all went as planned, Phil and Maya should be waiting for us on the beach on Koh Phi Phi in Thailand).

There's not a lot to tell about the last couple of days (except Meg's story about becoming a mom below). We took a couple of hikes around the hotel, but spent most of our time sitting on the front porch of our bungalow hiding from the rain and watching the mists blow in and out of the valley.

As an aside, Lao coffee is an amazing thing. It's so thick and black that the color doesn't change when you add milk. The flavor is strong but not bitter. We're bringing some home, if you ask nice we might share.

Meg's in the process of arranging our travel from Vientiane to Phuket, Thailand and becoming increasingly frustrated, I better go pay attention to her.

Enjoy.

And that's how I became a calf's mommy...

Meg and her calf.
Yesterday Eric and I set off on a a little hike in search of more waterfalls on the Bolaven Plateau (aka: one of the most beautiful areas on earth). We were slip-sliding along the red-dirt road thinking fond thoughts of how we could stain our pants red in Laos just as easily as at home when we heard a terrible noise. It was something between the scream of a tortured sheep and that of a terrified child. BMAAAAAllll! BMAAAAllll!!! When we stepped around the bend in the road we could see a small brown calf standing on the edge of the road screaming its little lungs out. There was no cow in sight.

As we got closer, we could see that not only was it small, but it was brand-spanking new with damp fur and a dangling umbilical cord. Still no cow in sight. Apparently I gave the little creature a friendly look because it stumbled my way bleating and carrying on while slipping in the ridiculously slick muck on the road. Eric and I kept walking, but the calf already was convinced that I must be its mother. Up the road I went, and up the road the little calf followed. Back down the road I returned because I did not wish to lead the poor critter too far astray. And so we were stuck in the road in Laos with a damp calf rubbing against my knees and bleating away.

About then a group of women came from the far end of the road. They didn't seem to understand what our wild hand gestures meant, so I walked up the road with my bovine shadow then returned, shadow still intact. The women finally seemed to comprehend the situation. They yelled to another woman down the road, and she meandered to us, scooped up the calf and tried to poke it back through the hole in the gate. Eric and I took that opportunity to escape.

Now it all would have been fine and well had we not been forced to return down the same stretch of road. Sure enough the little calf was standing out in the middle crying when we came back. Eric told me not to look, but being me, I couldn't help it. Like Lot's wife I just had to turn around, and rather than a pillar of salt, I again transformed into a calf's mommy. Yep, back it came ambling after me and rubbing on my legs. This time the little shadow even went so far as to try to take a bite out of my pant leg. I gave up and bent down to give the little animal a scritch behind the ears as Eric released a sigh of, well, something.

This time around there were no women handy to carry off the little creature, so we were stuck. Eric found a little girl down the road, but the most information he could glean from her was that the calf did not belong to her family. Back and forth he wandered searching for someone to remove my bovine shadow. I had to stay at the gate because if I moved, the calf came with me slipping all over the place in the slick mud and falling in the most tragic of manners.

In the end, I went to the nearest house's gate (where Eric had seen the child) and made some noise. An old woman came outside shouting at me and shooing me away, but I kept pointing at the cow. I'm sure the hand gestures I was using to convey my predicament were probably obscene here, and they were useless. So I marched back and forth in front of the gate demonstrating the problem. After a lot of shouting from the woman and confusion from me, the woman gestured for me to follow her. I followed her, the calf followed me, and the little girl followed the calf. We all wandered into the coffee plants in the general direction from which the calf had come. As soon as the calf was away from me, I turned to run. Then I remembered my manners, and I stopped and bowed to the old lady. THEN I ran back to the road to meet Eric. We dashed (and slipped and slid) around the next bend in the road.

And we wonder why people in other countries think we're crazy.

Pakse

We find ourselves now in Pakse, one of the larger cities in southern Laos. We visited the massive, sprawling market here earlier today and wanered around a bit on foot. Pakse isn't the most exciting place on the planet, but it is a sort of regional hub so we can get to other places from here. Meg and I will be headed out to the Bolaven Plateau tomorrow for a couple of nights in an eco-lodge beside the Tad Fane waterfalls before heading up to northern Laos (Vientiane and possibly Luang Prabang)for a couple of nights. Phil and Maya will be heading to the west coast of Thailand for some beach time. We'll catch up with them there next week.

Rice paddies on Don Det.

We were all sad to leave Don Det. It was a sort of minimalist heaven. In between lounging in our hammocks, we explored the island and it's neighbor, Don Khon. The islands are small, their interiors given over almost entirely to rice paddies, with a handful of bungalows and restaurants along the rivers. We spent a day biking around the islands (they're connected by an old railroad bridge) and another floating down the Mekong in inner tubes.

Sunset over the Mekong.
The sunsets were spectacular as were the pumpkin burgers (really a pumpkin fritter and cucumbers on a toasted baguette) and spring rolls at Mr Noi's. A crazy Aussie ex-pat (whom everyone referred to as Mr. Oi)runs a small bakery on the island, churning out homemade, Western-style pastries including donuts and pouches full of chocolate and banana. It was a tough place to leave.

Between Don Det and Pakse, we spent an evening in Champasak. There we visited the ruins of Wat Phu, an Angkor-era temple built on the side of a mountain near the city. The views from the wat out over the surrounding countryside were stunning. The temple itself was not as well-maintained as those around Siem Reap, but they were less crowded and did have some interesting features.

The view from Wat Phu.
Getting to Champasak was interesting. We took a minibus from Ban Nakasang with a German couple who seemed to be headed to Champasak as well and appeared to speak little or no English. At one point, our bus driver stopped at a crossroads more or less in the middle of nowhere and, pointing down one of the roads, said, "Champasak." This didn't seem right, as we knew for a fact that: 1) the city was on the opposite side of the Mekong; and 2) the road we were traveling on was a couple of miles from the river. After some shouting, we convinced the driver (who also didn't speak English) to take us all the way to the ferry stop. The Germans just smiled and nodded. When we arrived at the ferry, there were a couple of different ferry docks, so we were trying to figure out which one to go to before getting out of van. At this point on of our German friends "When we went to Champasak before, this is where they dropped us off." As it turns out they not only spoke English but weren't headed Champasak, but Pakse. Needless to say, we were a bit cheesed that they hadn't interceded at the crossroads.

Anyway, we eventually got to where we were headed and even met the governor of Champasak Province, but that's a story for another time. Right now, there's a cold Beer Lao waiting for me at the rooftop restaurant in our hotel, so I gotta go.

Enjoy.

Heaven

We made it to Si Phan Don -- the island of Don Det to be precise -- is southern Laos. It's one of the most amazing places we've been yet. We spent yesterday afternoon wandering around on foot and most of today exploring this and a neighboring island by bicycle. I'll post pictures later -- the kid here had to fire up a generator (there's no power here) for us to get online. It's a little pricier here than other places.

Enjoy.

Kratie

So Kratie does have an internet cafe. Two actually -- wasn't sure there would be any here.

We said goodbye to Brad and Jenn this morning (they should be somewhere over the middle of the Pacific right about now), and hopped a bus up here. Thankfully today's ride wasn't as exciting as yesterday's.

We were able to get up here early enough to go on a dolphin tour. We spent a couple hours on the river and spotted a number of dolphins. Sorry, no picutres. The Irrawaddy are not as playful or as sociable as their marine cousins. The surface just long enough to grab a breath of air before the next dive, making photography a giant pain. I think it's because they're a bit funny looking. Sort of like a cross between a porpise and beluga whale, they look like a dolphin or porpise, but have no beak.

On the way back our moto drivers took us to Phnom Sambok, a hill just north of town. It's the only high ground around, so it offers beautiful views of the surrounding countryside. There are approxiamately 350 steps leading up to a Buddhist temple at the top of the hill. We climbed every last one.

If all goes well tomorrow, tonight will be our last in Cambodia. Tomorrow, we take a minibus from here to Stung Treng, then hop into boat for the ride up to the border with Laos. After getting our passports stamped, we'll take another minibus into Vuen Kham to hop a boat to Don Det.

Don Det is a small island in the middle of the Si Phan Don area of Laos. According to our guidebooks, the island should have been wired for power last year, but I'm not going to count on it. We'll probably spend a couple of days there or on one of the other islands before continuing on to Pakse. We should have a couple of relaxing days ahead.

Enjoy.

Return to Phnom Penh

We've returned safely (if that's the correct word) to Phnom Penh. It was a harrowing bus ride up.

I'm not entirely sure the driver was on some sort of uppers, but he sure drove like he was. Full throttle, weaving in and out of traffic, on the horn like he was typing Morse code. Remember, this is a full-size, Greyhound-style coach we're talking about here, not some sort of minibus.

For the first half of the trip we were all more or less able to immerse ourselves in either our books or the cheesy martial-arts flick (dubbed in Khmer, of course) on the tube and ignore what was going on outside the bus. We did pass what seemed to be a trucker strike -- a long line of trucks stopped in the road, blocking the northbound lane -- but, other than that, nothing too weird.

Shortly after the rest stop at the midway point of the trip, we had all re-immersed ourselves in our particular diversions when, Wham!, the bus driver runs through or over (no one's sure which, we hadn't been paying attention) something massive in the roadway. The bus itself jumped up a bit, then started bouncing down the road like a low rider on hydraulics. Of course none of this slows the driver down -- he just keeps on truckin' -- only now whenever he swerves, jams on brakes, or even runs over the tiniest of bumps (of which there are plenty), the bus bounces a bit. Eventually, though, we did make it into the city, lurching and jerking all the way.

Once here, we ran some errands. To the bank for some extra cash and the Russian Market for supplies. Our tuk-tuk driver (one of the guys working for our guesthouse, not some random guy off the street) asked us if we were interested helping children at one of the orphanages in the city, something we'd been talking about within our group since our first stay in Phnom Penh. We said yes, so he took us to the orphanage run by the Cambodian Light Children Association (CLCA), a group working out of one of the shanty towns that dot the city. They work with about 120 orphans and street kids, providing schooling, housing and food.

Children at CLCA orphanage.

We went in bearing a 50Kg bag of rice and 10 bars of soap (a whopping $35 US investment for two days supplies of each for the entire orphanage). The orphanage itself was little more than a few stuck together buildings at the end of dirt alley in the middle of the shanty. The children themselves were cute though and genuinely excited to see us there.

Tomorrow the party splits up. Brad and Jenn are headed back home to Columbus, and Phil, Maya, Meg and I begin our journey up the Mekong. Our first stop will be in Kratie (five or six hours by bus -- yay, bus!) where we'll stop for a night or two, depending when we can find someone to take us to see the Irrawaddy river dolphins. From Kratie, it's on up the river (probably by boat most of the way depending on road and river conditions) to Si Phan Don -- the Four-thousand Islands -- in southern Laos.

I don't know what Internet availability will be like between here and Pak Se, Laos (about four or five days away), but I'll post when I can.

Enjoy.

Random Stuff

Today's been a quiet day, and promises to remain that way. It has poured rain all morning, flooding the courtyard of our hotel, and forcing us to remain on our porches reading, journaling and napping. It's stopped raining now (now that I've said that, it's started pouring down again), but the rainy-day inertia is proving difficult to overcome. There's talk of heading over to the beach for a swim, but movement in that direction is decidedly slow.

Meg and the sodden courtyard.

So today I'll recount a couple of the little stories I've missed along the way. You might also notice I've added Meg as a contributor. She has a couple of stories to tell, beginning with the one below about or trip to the Phnom Penh post office.

Anyway, here's some random stuff we've encountered along the way:

Fish Amok
Now this does not refer to rioting seafood, but one of the staple dishes of Khmer cuisine. It's a curried stew of Cambodian veggies and whatever the local fish of choice happens to be. Up in Siem Reap, it's a fish from the Tonle Sap who's name I can neither spell nor pronounce. Down in Sihanoukville, it's barracuda. Sometimes it's served in the shell of a young coconut, others in a banana-leaf boat.

However it's done, it's always tasty. There's some debate over which version is the the best, but everyone, Phil in particular, has become a fan.

Traffic
Cambodian traffic is sort of a miracle to watch, particularly as someone in the position of passive participant. Vehicles move like schools of fish. There's an odd ebb and flow to their movements as they mesh and merge to avoid obstacles, accept new members. There don't seem to be any traffic laws per se (at least none that are obeyed), but there do seem to be a couple rules:

1) Mass always wins. For the most part larger vehicles. Smaller vehicles just sort of keep out of the way.

2) Just go. If you need to shift lanes, make a turn, or perform some more complicated maneuver, just go ahead and do it. People will get out your way. This rule applies to pedestrians crossing traffic too.

Other than that, it's semi-controlled chaos. Heck, it even makes Philly traffic look civilized.

The Lamborghini
Speaking of traffic, Brad, Meg and and I were riding in a tuk-tuk through Phnom Penh on the way to Choeung Ek. The rest of the group was in another tuk-tuk.

Brad, riding in the backward-facing seat, says, "You guys might not want to look back." Of course Meg and I both turn around immediately. Knifing through traffic on a direct course for our tuk-tuk is a jet-black Lamorghini -- a Murciélago, I believe, but I'm not an expert. It's moving extremely fast until, mere feet behind our little tuk-tuk, the driver jams on his brakes to avoid rear-ending us.

At the next gap in oncoming traffic, he veers left guns the engine and speeds by us, only to jam on his brakes about 100 yards on to avoiding plowing into a pack of motorbikes. He repeats this same set of actions until he's out of sight.

Poor guy, Cambodian traffic must be so frustrating for him.

The Escaping Bag
We were getting onto the bus in Phnom Penh ready to make our way down to the coast. The transportation stop was crowded and confused, so like the dutiful travellers we are, we kept a close eye on our bags. We each handed off our big bags to the bus line worker and watched as they were shoved into the compartment under the bus before boarding. We took our seats and I, not feeling overly well at the time, started to nod off against the window.

Suddenly, Meg shouted, "There goes your bag!" I open my eyes in time to see a man with my bag disappear around the front of the bus. Meg and Phil immediately jump up and run off the bus, followed by several agitated Cambodians. Still feeling a bit groggy, I wade through the crowd of excited locals now crowding the aisle to the door of the bus. As it turns out, the guy with my bag was one of the other bus company workers, moving my bag from one compartment to another. Oops.

The Mekong Bucket
At right, Brad with a Mekong Bucket.

All of the bars along the beach here offer a variation on a drink called The Mekong Bucket. As the name implies, this tasty concoction is served in a large container -- either one of those children's sand buckets or a small pitcher -- with a handful of straws to facilitate sharing.

The most common recipe includes a generous portion of whiskey, some Coca-Cola, a dose of Red Bull and a splash of fresh lime juice. Judging by taste, the proportions seems to vary from place to place, but all have been surprisingly good so far. We might have to have a Mekong Bucket party when we get back home.

The Snake House
I'll save that one for a later date.

It sounds like people have finally motivated themselves to move toward the beach, time for a swim -- the last before we head back to Phnom Penh tomorrow.

Enjoy.

Mailing Packages in Cambodia

Part of the excitement of traveling in foreign lands is figuring out how to conduct the most basic of business -- the sort of every day activities we all take for granted in the US, where roads look like roads and postal employees may be slow, but generally don't steal your stuff or add random amounts to the weight of your packages.

I went on a mad shopping spree in the Russian Market in Phnom Penh last week. I spent entirely too much time sitting on a tiny stool in the back of a market stall madly negotiating over the price of silk bags and otherChristmas presents. In the end, poor Eric was left carrying a huge bag of goodies, and I was left wondering how to heck to get this stuff home. Carrying an extra bag of junk through rural Laos during the rainy season -- especially when we'll be traveling on questionable boats under gray skies -- wasn't high on my to-do list. So back to the guesthouse I went to look up what the guidebook said about shipping boxes out of Cambodia.

Ooops, apparently I should have waited until Bangkok to do my shopping. Shipping from Cambodia is questionable and expensive. But hey, by the time I figured this out, I was lugging around a sack of presents and watching the sky for rain. I'd worked hard to get my neices fancy puppets, and said puppets were not going to ride in my backpack for another three weeks. So on Friday morning before we set off on the bus to the beach, Maya, Phil, Eric and I went on a quest to ship our shopping finds home. We braved crowded streets blocked off for the king's motorcade and a tuk-tuk driver who wasn't quite sure where we were going and seemed quite content to drive us all over the city with no gas in his tank (perhaps explaining why he was going 5 mph the entire way).

Eventually we reached the DHL office, which looked a lot like any other DHL office, but contained crazy women who didn't seem to understand why we were annoyed when they wanted to charge us for 5 kilos of weight when our package weighed 2 1/2 kilos. They told Maya that it was for "packaging," but that didn't make a lick of sense. And then the gigglingDHL ladies told us it would be cheaper if we had more weight. Maya and I took them up on the offer and threw everything we had ever contemplated shipping onto the scale. Not surprisingly, the women were insane, and the shipping cost went from $100 to $250. We decided that spending $250 to ship $100 of junk to the US wasn't a very prudent idea...so back to the tuk-tuk we went (annoyed husbands in tow).

That's when the real third-world shipping experience began. We drove to the post office, where we were sent from counter to counter then outside and around the corner-- then from counter to counter in the other part of the PO. Finally, I located the surface shipping counter and asked to purchase a box (as the Lonely Planet had assured me I could). The woman behind the counter told me that any box would cost $1, which I said was fine. She wandered to the back of the office and returned with a banana box -- I kid you now. It was a fruit box with no top and large holes throughout the sides. The bottom was soggy, and as if all of this wasn't enough, the box wasn't large enough to hold Maya's and my stuff. I tried to talk the woman out of another box, but she said that this box was my only option -- there were no other boxes at the post office.

By this point, Phil and Eric were hiding in a corner, and Maya was about to lose it. I told them to wait and wandered to the other end of the counter -- the air mail area. There I spotted a somewhat sad, but perfectly useful box. I pointed at it, and asked the ladies if I could have it. They were confused. I do believe it was their trashcan. They started to take the papers out of it, stopped, and walked away from me. I wasn't aboutto give up, so I followed them, pointed at the box, and asked again. Eventually two confused postal workers handed it over.

I returned to the other counter where the bananabox lady looked annoyed and confused. Boxes apparently are not supposed to appear when she's working on making a box sale!

I started shoving our belongings into the new,slightly soggy box...but then a random male worker appeared and demanded to look at what we were shipping.

Maya had purchased some soap for her aunt from a ritzy hotel in Siem Reap. Unfortunately, ritzy hotels do not put labels on their handmade soap, and this soap came in two-inch balls. Yep, nothing like balls of white soap wrapped in celophane to arouse suspicions at the PO. Maya and I tried to explain that the balls were soap -- I even did a demonstration of washing myself with one -- but that wasn't about to work. I finally convinced Maya to pocket the soap and ship everything else. I doubt US customs would have liked our soap either.

Then the PO employee noticed that Maya was trying to ship a little Buddha sculpture. He took the sculpture to a back room and had a large group of people examine it. He eventually returned with it and asked where we got it. Before Maya could say anything, I told him we bought it at the Russian Market for $5. Okay, so it was $20, but there is no way he could think it was some kind of relic if I only paid $5...so $5 it was for the purposes of that discussion. He frowned then put it in our box.

The woman handed over some tape -- reading ""Small Cambodia Package." I cut the box down to size and taped the hell out of it, praying the entire time that the semi-soggy cardboard would somehow hold up enough to get my stuff back to the States.

We were almost home free!

The woman took the package to the back room to weight it. She returned and told us it weighed 10 kilos. Maya started to throw a fit because we knew it couldn't weight more than 7.5. I grabed her by the arm and pointed out that the difference in shipping cost was $5 and that we should eat that if we ever hoped to see her Buddha again.

I paid for our 10 kilos, and our little soggy box headed off into the world of Cambodia surface shipping. It's supposed to arrive in Lansdowne in 2-3 months. I give it 70-30 odds, and I do believe I'm being generous. Anyone care to start a package pool?

A Walk in the Jungle

Net fishing on the Prek Tuk Sap.

Today we took an excursion into the Preah Sihanouk National Park, also known as Ream National Park for reasons I don't quite comprehend. We were shuttled from our guesthouse to one of the other guesthouses in town for a "continental breakfast" (baguette, butter, jam & honey, coffee & tea) then whisked to the park by minibus. The tour itself started with a boat ride down the Prek Tuk Sap. The riverbank was dotted with fishing huts and there were a few boats out on the river net fishing and oystering. It was really quite lovely.

Wading ashore.

Things turned a bit more interesting as we approached the small fishing village near the mouth of the river. I had watched one of the other boats in our group as it approached and pulled up to a pier at the far end of the village. It turned out our pilot had other ideas. The next thing we know there's a whump strong enough to make the whole boat shudder -- a pretty distinctive sign that the boat's keel has just struck ground.

The first attempt didn't quite stick us, so we had four or five more before the boat became well and truly stuck it the sand about 50 yards from shore. The boat immediately started rocking violently, so we all hopped out and made our way to the beach. The rotund old French man on our boat did an impressive job of rapidly stripping down to his speedo for the trip.

Where the jungle meets the ocean.

We spent about 30 or 40 minutes walking through some dense jungle. Unfortunately, there was not much wildlife to be seen along the walk -- our tour group was making enough noise to scare off the bravest of creatures. We were rewarded with a beautiful beach and a nice swim at the end of our walk.

After the swim, we hiked back to the fishing village where a lunch of grilled barracuda steaks, slaw and baguettes was waiting for us. There was mass confusion at the food hut, meaning we had to walk the rickety pier repeatedly, but the food was tasty so it was worth it in the end.

And on the way home, it rained.

During the ride back up the river the sky opened up on us, dumping an unbelievable amount of rain on us in a very short time. Today was the day that proved the waterproof camera was a wise investment. Thanks to Sarah and Calvin for the tip.

Time for a swim and a Mekong Bucket. Enjoy.

Sihanoukville

The view from Dara's Bar and Restaurant.
We've made it down to Sihanoukville on the Cambodian coast where we'll be till the end of the week. It should be a welcome change of pace from the physically, mentally and emotionally draining experience of Phnom Penh. We're staying in a cozy little place right across from the beach. We were hoping to stay right on the beach, but the only places directly on the beaches are bars. Oh well, what are you going to do.

So far the biggest downside here has been the rain. It's rainy season, so we were expecting it, but we hadn't seen any real rain till we got down here. It was absolutely pouring when the bus pulled in, which made the whole process of getting our bags and finding a car taxi interesting (their was no "inside" at the bus station). Somehow we were able to cram all six of us and all of our baggage into an early '90s Toyota Camry -- an amzing feat of packing by our driver.

The rain let up long enoungh for us to go for a walk on the beach and find a little beach bar to grab dinner and drinks, but as soon as we got back to our rooms it picked up again and rained all night. There were a couple times during the night where it seemed like we might float away.

It's not raining now, so that means it's time to hit the beach. At some point, either tomorrow or the next day, weé going to try to take a day trip into the Ream National Park to look for fishing cats.

Enjoy.

Palaces, prisons and graves

Preah Thineang Dheva Vinnichay (Throne Hall) in the Royal Palace Complex
Phnom Penh offers a mixed bag. On the one hand, you have the grandeur expected of a capitol city -- a magnificent Royal Palace, the national museum and a number of historical sites. On the other hand, the Khmer Rouge years were particularly tough on the city, devastating its infrastructure (it still hasn't fully recovered) and leaving signs of the regime's mass murders everywhere.
The sprawling Royal Palace complex is beautiful, if a bit worn around the edges. In particular, Preah Vihear Preah Keo Morakot (aka the Silver Pagoda) was amazing. The building received its nickname from the thousands of silver tiles covering its floor. Hundreds of representations of the Buddha crowd the interior. Unfortunately, strict "no photos" rules prevented me from capturing any of it on film (or card anyway).
Building C, Tuol Sleng Museum
It's hard to put into words the feeling of walking around Choeung Ek, the largest of the Khmer Rouge killing fields. So far, only two thirds of the mass graves at the site have been excavated -- revealing the remains of almost 9,000 people. According to our tour guide, almost every heavy rain reveals more bone fragments or shreds of clothing. Many of the prisoners executed at Choeung Ek were brought to the site from Tuol Sleng, a former high school in the south of Phnom Penh, converted to a prison by the Khmer Rouge.
Memorial Stupa, Choeung Ek
Tomorrow, we head for Sihanoukville and the coast. Yay, for buses.

Phnom Penh

Sorry for the delay in posts, we've had a couple of hectic days.

We arrived in Phnom Penh yesterday afternoon. The bus ride down from Siem Reap was pleasant enough -- about as pleasant as a six-hour bus ride can be, I guess. The countryside doesn't change much during the trip, it's mainly rice paddies and sugar palms the whole way.

Our arrival in Phnom Penh was ... uh, a little less than auspicious. It started out well enough -- our guest house sent a van to pick us up at the bus station -- but once we arrived at the guest house things took a turn for the worse. The woman running the place told us there were no open rooms, but that her cousin's place around the corner had open rooms. The girl who had taken our reservation claimed that people were supposed to have been leaving that day, but missed their bus. Of course that only accounted for two rooms, not the three we'd requested.

They convinced us to get back into the van to ride around the corner (or down the skeevy alley, then around the corner as it turned out) to the Royal Hiness (sic) Hotel. Phil, Brad and I ran in and poked are heads into a couple rooms, which looked good enough at a glance. How wrong we were. After checking in (and paying for the first night in advance), we started to notice some issues. First off were the bathrooms -- each one had it's own unique issue. In ours, the room's air conditioner drained its condensation straight onto the floor, meaning the floor in their was wet and ripe.

On the way out to dinner, we noticed an older Westerner (didn't get the accent to well, he was either British or Aussie) playing pool in the lobby with a much younger Cambodian woman. About the same time we noticed the odd couple we started noticing other things -- the flier in the lobby/bar advertising the "Roaring Temple" (a concoction of vodka, fruit punch, RedBull and Viagra) and the hotels posted rules that banned prostitution, but allowed guests to bring "visitors" to their rooms for $20. At this point we decided it would be best to bail. Unfortunately, since we paid for one night, and the folks behind the counter weren't about to relinquish our first night's cash, we had to stick it out for the night. First thing this morning though, we found a nicer place nearby that was more than willing to extract us from Her Hiness.

We spent the rest of the morning at National Museum and intend to visit the Royal Palace and Silver Pagoda after lunch. I'll try to post later today with some pictures.

Enjoy.