Reading back on what I have put down during this trip, I am struck by the convivial nature of the prose, an easy discription of place and events almost completely void of the sardonic rants which typified most of the writing during our trip last year. Why, I ask myself. What was so different between then and now? Right! I've been in one place for the last two months. Now, having begun the travel part of our adventure, here comes the rant.
*****
We enjoyed our time in Trat. Our rooms were spacious, on the fourth floor of an older walk up, boasting two double beds squeezed together with a single fitted sheet, and - something almost unheard of in Thailand - very firm, but soft, mattresses. It was fun to walk around and remember how exotic the town seemed during our first trip here. We purchased our transport to Sihanoukville from our pleasant, German/Thai hosts and departed Trat yesterday morning.
The trip to the Hat Lek border crossing between Thailand and Cambodia was very quick. Very, very quick. Our driver cruised at about 140 km/hr, on roads which were not built for those speeds, and in traffic that was decidedly not moving at that rate. We passed everything, often on curves and hill crests that left us blind to on-coming traffic. A testiment to our experience traveling in the region, both Kim and I commented of this with a "meh".
Hat Lek is legend amongst travelers of Cambodia for the brashness of the corruption practiced by the boarder officials. Everything in Cambodia is gamed but this border station stands out to such a degree that every travel guide includes a section devoted to just to Hat Lek. The Cambodian government web site specifies a charge of 1000 Thai Baht (about $30.00 USD) for a 30 day tourist visa when entering the country. Travel agents in Thailand don't even pretend that one will pay the official rate, quoting between 1200 and 1500 Baht, depending on how flush the captain is feeling. Kim and I were lucky enough to get the special "holiday" rate - lots of folks on the move for New Years Eve - of 1600 Baht. There is, however, a method to fight this corruption. The first step is to request a receipt for payment. Should one do so, they are directed across the street to a stand-alone, small building featuring two signs. The first reads, "receipts". The second reads, "closed". The building is in an area without tree cover, far from the market area and avoided by any street venders with their carts filled with food and drink. The sun beats down hard on the waiting area and without venders there is no water to be had. In talking with locals on both sides of the boarder, none have actually seen this office open, though rumours persist it has happened. The second step is un-known.
Kim and I were feeling like veteran travellers as we rejected the offers of touts to help us through the visa application process, though somewhat hurt when they offered a "who cares" response. The last time we passed this way, any suggestion that a traveller might manage their own crossing was met with dire warnings of great, long waits and buses on the other side departing without you, leaving you far from any services and without transport. This time, nothing. As well, we heard no requests from the the touts for a fee for their service. Regardless, Kim and I headed for the visa office, looking back at the "newbies" sitting in, upon reflection, a very nice waiting area, with awnings, newish benches and tables, and venders attending to their every want. Rookies. The visa process was quite easy, though somewhat time consuming, and we were working at it side by side with the touts holding the passports of all our fellow travels. Once we finished up, employees of the bus company directed us to wait in an area featuring an un-even dirt floor, broken and filthy plastic chairs, and under a torn and frayed tarp mounted 5' of the ground. A nice lady sold over priced, tepid beer. So. It seems the touts and the border officials had streamline the process to eliminate any of the unseemly arguments and the possibility that any traveller might cross the border without paying her full due, and that "who cares" attitude could be more fully expressed as, "we now work together in this little corruption and whether I do the work or you do, I will make exactly the same amount, so if you want to sit in the dirt while you wait for the bus to leave, fill your boots".
We finished up the visa process at about 12:30pm, waiting for a bus promised at 2:00pm, which we would board for the 6 hour trip to Sihanoukville. Everyone waiting knew that NO possibility existed of any bus leaving that border without every seat being filled, but hope burned within every heart. At about 1:00, a passenger van pulled up. Immediately, the nice beer lady began to opine that the bus we all waited for, the 2:00pm bus, was unlikely to leave before 6:00pm. But the lucky few, those willing to pay only 100 extra baht, could board this van for immediate departure for Sihanoukville. And because we were so fortunate, this van so powerful, it could make the journey in only four and a half hours (!!!!!). We're we among the select? Chosen to ride in air conditioned comfort in this powerful beast, destined to be welcomed in Sihanoukville in the full light of day, rather than skulking in under cover of dark? Were we? Abso-frickin'-lutely!
After we departed, and within a block of the border, we passed the 2:00pm bus on its way to the border. OK, but we rode in a craft of such comfort and speed that we would surely leave any mere bus, a vehicle intended for the transport of the great un-washed, far in our wake. Onward!
Out of Hat Lek, one climbs first into the hills of Ream National Park. It's mountains rise sharply from the coast and the road gains elevation at a rapid rate. At the first hint of a rise, our pathetically underpowered van geared down to first and it was in that state we covered the first 75 kilometres.
Did you know that running the air conditioning in a vehicle increases fuel consumption? Our driver sure did. As we drove, every ten minutes or so, when he thought no one would note, he would slyly turn down the AC until we all were all wet with sweat and would lodge our complaint. The driver would begrudgingly comply, but within the next few minutes.... Kim and I were in the very back, on a split seat (basically one and one half seats shared by two), our knees hard into the seats in front, and without the ability to adjust the ram-rod strait seat back, and in the area least effected by the meagre AC. It could be that we got to the point of not caring, but about half way through the trip, tired of playing AC cat and mouse with the driver, Kim and I just opened the rear side windows of the van. I know it kind of negates the AC, but the breeze was quite nice. For us. Not so much for every one else.
But arrive in Sihanoukville we did, exactly, as promised by the bus company, at "The Lions", a monument in the centre of town. Well. Within a few kilometres of The Lions. OK, five kilometres. Tuk-tuk drivers were on us the moment our feet met concrete, offering their fine service. After false starts with several - those who dismissed us as completely unreasonable for failing to agree to triple the usual price for a drive to Otres Beach, we met Gia. Our initial parlay was heading for trouble when he opened the bidding at $18.00 and we began to walk away. This prompted him to come back with $7:00. Really? 18 to 7 in 3 seconds. Usually, when I am being screwed that boldly, I want flowers and dinner first. Wine to get me in the mood. We did, however, come to terms and Gia has become our driver of choice for all our inter-urban travel.
Two nights earlier, while in Trat, Kim and I were on the internet searching for places to stay on Otres Beach, the quietest of Sihanoukville's beaches. We found a lovely looking spot, right on the water featuring rustic bungalows, which we booked, and now had Gia deliver us to. Now, funny thing. The fellow who took our booking sold the business three months prior, still maintains the website (the new owners change the name) and still enjoys chatting with potential clients of his now non-existent business, and doesn't want them to feel disappointed if is non-existent rooms are no long available. The new owners were gracious, but fully booked. They did, however, send one of their staff running down the strip, asking for vacancies at reasonably priced venues, while Kim and I walked the other way, hoping against hope that we would find one room in a place we could afford in an area heavily booked for New Years. He found a place, and stood in the lobby waiting for us to make our way from the other end of the strip, lest some other travellers arrived before we did, holding our spot in effect. We have a room! Which I will tell you all about next time.
