A short one.

Got that right. Can't even spell moron.

Went for a walk yesterday, Kim says we need more photos with us in them.

  

           

The Streets of Phu Quoc

You may recall from the 2014 blog that Phu Quoc is a bucolic island in the gulf of Thailand off the west coast of Vietnam, and 40 km south of the Cambodian coast. Almost the entire west coast of the island -48 km- boasts white sand beaches bordered on one side by warm seas, and on the other by virgin jungle. Here in Duong Dong, development is in high gear. While 500,000 tourists visited the island in 2014, plans are afoot to host 3 million a year by 2020. There is currently not nearly the infrastructure to support those numbers, so we have arrived in the midst of an impressive building boom. Since we were here last the island has added an international airport, a Disney-like amusement park and an 18 hole golf course on the north end of the island. Heading south from Duong Dong, several new, massive resorts have been built and many more are under construction. In anticipation of this new development, the only road servicing this side of the island is undergoing major up-grades. (Blessedly, the little grass hut we enjoy here at Moon Resort is about 200m off the road so, unless we venture out of our little Eden, we are un-effected by the construction.) Here is this process from a visitors perspective.

*****

Once a quiet island in the gulf of Thailand....

.... Phuc Quoc is quickly becoming a major tourist destination, home to some pretty swank tourist digs...

....with many more on the way. Servicing these resorts begins by tearing up the existing roads.....

.....and laying in the infrastructure.

Next the prep is done for the broad walkways....

....using the most modern methods...

.....and with impacts that effect some property owners more than others.

Finally, the walk ways are installed....

....and pavers installed...

And now these beautiful promenades are ready for their intended purpose....

.....because no one who lives on this island ever walks. If a local has to go two doors down the street, shop at the market, pick up something at a store across the street, they do it by moto, and park those motos (and cars and trucks and busses) on the sidewalk.  Despite the clearly beautifully designed avenues and the millions of dollars spent, tourists on Phu Quoc will always walk in the traffic, just like we did before the upgrades.

A day at the market, Phu Quoc.

Whoops! The view from our digs.  Again.

All fungus of some kind.

Check out the guy on the wire in the centre of this photo.

Birds.

Up the river.....

Down the river.

In a rush on Phu Quoc

If you are in a rush for food on Phu Quoc, the food here is Phuc An fast.

Otres 2 to Phu Quoc

After a late goodbye dinner with our hosts at Honeymoon Guesthouse on Otres 2, it was an early morning for an 8:00 am departure for Phu Quoc. When last in these parts we traveled Phu Quoc to Sihanoukville on a van-ferry-bus complete package purchased on Phu Quoc. It went poorly. Some may recall it from the 2014 blog (if not, it is available here). Perchance if I mention it involved Kim in a fist fight with one of our drivers it may come more clearly to mind. In an effort to avoid such excitement on this trip, we booked only the van from Otres to Ha Tien, a town on the border between Cambodia and Vietnam, as well as the departure point for the Superdong fast ferry to Phu Quoc. Our plan was to get to the border, cross into Vietnam, make our way by taxi to the pier (11 km), and purchase passage on our boat of choice - we did not trust that a booking in Sihanoukville would result in our actually getting on the boat we desired. Our plan unfolded flawlessly through beautiful Kampot and on into Kep, a Cambodian town on the water about 40 km from Ha Tien. I was in a seat abutting the driver's, facing towards the back of the vehicle and enjoyed not the driver's view, but a view of all the other passengers as, on an all too regular basis, they clenched the sides of their seats, wide eyed in terrified anticipation of a very high speed head-on collision, which blessedly, never actually occured. The woman who sat facing me, our knees touching, vomited into a bag all the way to Kampot. However, for all of our journey to Kep there were exactly an equal number of passengers as there were seats in the van. Remember, this is Cambodia. That's a win for our team.

We departed Kep with 4 more passengers than there were seats. While 3 of the new comers squeezed into the laps of existing passengers, one poor soul enjoyed the trip to the border between our feet, crammed into a small corner of the floor and leaning against the side sliding door. So, funny thing. We arrived Ha Tien with 19 in a 15 passenger van. A group of 5 Germans traveling with us, because they had a great deal of luggage, had purchased 10 seats on the van from Otres 2 to accommodate their baggage. That's a win for team Champa Travel.

We arrived at the border in good shape. It's 11:30 and the last boat for Phu Quoc leaves at 1:15. An hour forty five to cross into Vietnam, taxi to town, buy a ticket to board the ferry and we are on our way. Getting our stamps to exit Cambodia is quick and problem free. It a takes about 20 minutes to fill out our medical information cards, pay the $1.00 fee for filling it (both of which are complete bullshit, un-required border scams, but refusing to go along adds half an hour of arguing to your crossing), and submit our passport to receive an entry stamp into Vietnam. It turns out that all the people we are travelling with are also going to Phu Quoc via the Superdong, so we hitch our wagon to the Vietnamese fixer who is organizing the border transit and transport to the ferry. Good thing, too, as there are exactly zero regular taxis waiting on the Vietnamese side, only motos. Our fixer has gathered together our travel group, as well as six or eight other travellers, and leads us (around 25 by this point) to a roadside canteen to await the "bus". Moments later, a 7 passenger minivan arrives to take us to the pier. A dozen souls, with all their luggage, got into that van. Kim, I, and the rest were too slow to make it aboard, but instead were told to wait 5 minutes for the next bus, while the fixer headed back to the border to guide more travelers across. At this point, we are cool. It's noon so we have an hour and a quarter to get to the ferry and the next bus will be here at in five minutes, right? At ten to one - still sitting at the roadside canteen with no transport in sight - we, and all of our fellow travellers who did not get on "bus" #1, are feeling less than cool. Kim is talking about starting to walk to town while I go on a motorcycle taxi into town to find a regular taxi which I would then have return toward the border, picking her up and then..... Yeah, we are less than cool.

It was into this tempest that our fixer then returned, a handful of other travellers in tow. Our group is 22 strong and a 15 passenger van soon arrived. We all got in that van, our luggage on our laps. I had the luggage of two other travellers on my lap along with my own. 

To the pier! No. To the fixers office. Remember those 12 folks who crammed into the 7 seater? They are cooling their heels at the office. It doesn't matter. You either wait at the border or at the fixers office. Either way, you don't have a clue what the fuck is going on.

Next, another 12 seater arrives. Ten of us are ushered aboard and it heads for the pier. We are all nervous. There are ten of us in a twelve seater. We have room. We are comfortable. What's up? But it's the real deal. We zip across town, arriving at our boat exactly two minutes before it departs.

*****

The crossing to Phu Quoc, one and one half hours, is un-eventful, as is our taxi to the Moon Resort. Sorry. Appended is a photo of our digs on Otres 2, followed by a shot of the Superdong, a view of our Phu Quoc beach, and the view from our cabin porch. 

Otres 2

We have been two sun filled, swimming-reading-beach walking-kayaking-exploring days at Otres 2 since we last spoke. It's been tough. Yesterday we walked to the Khmer village inland from the resort strip. Not a lot to see there but we did note a side road running east along the river. Once we had finished the rest of the day - that's where the swimming-reading-beach walking comes in - we returned to our digs to prepare for our evening. Our host told us that down the road we had earlier spied, a Khmer farmer had "sub-divided" a field, renting out small lots to Barang (westerners) on ten year leases at about $250 per month. Many of the tenants had built small homes and had cooperated in the building of a community building where, every Saturday night, the community comes together, sets up stalls selling food, home made clothing, jewelry, and bring in both locals and touring musicians who perform on a small stage. Well, hell. Kim and I had something to dress up for.

Around eight we hailed a tuk-tuk, obligatory negotiation ensued, and headed  over. Inside a large barn-like structure the venders had set up. Available was a wonderful array of foods - falafels, dahl, Khmer foods, pastries and cakes - and there were a couple of bars. Kim and I had our best meal since arriving in Cambodia (can't seem to regularly find good food in Cambodia), grabbed a drink and settled in to listen to some music. There had been a fellow playing folk standards during the first moments after our arrival but our attention was on food and drink. The next fellow to get up played mostly originals but it wasn't really our style (nor, did is seem, for anyone else in attendance). Next came a Khmer spoken word artist who, after spending his teenaged years in gangs followed by 16 years in prison, wrote and performed works focussing on developing community. Interesting stuff. As it was late (almost nine o'clock!) Kim and I had decided to head out but were there for the first few songs by the next artist, a British woman performing originals and a few Fiest tunes. She was quite good. 

The evening had a unusual feel to it. If I forget where I actually was, I could easily think I was at a music event on Salt Spring or Galiano, yet here we were in the Cambodian countryside. Below are some photos.