Cambodia is a bit more wild west-ish (or is it east-ish?) than other SE Asian countries. I just took a 10 day trip there, anticipating Angkor Wat to be fairly devoid of tourists and it turned out to be a jackpot of emptiness. I’ve been there twice before, once in 1997 helping supervise a 6th grade class from an international school in Phnom Penh on a field trip to Angkor Wat. We ended up running into a group of Khmer Rouge on a trip to Banteay Srey, but that’s a story for another day. The next visit was in 2019 and Siem Reap had been transformed from a sleepy one road backwater town to a neon lit party town. Not my cup of tea. But this time? Siem Reap was empty, Pub Street was dead and it was fantastic to cycle around the complex because most of the time, I was by myself. 

     The rest of the time I spent getting lost on a rented mountain bike around Siem Reap. I was in a delightful hotel that had 170 rooms. 7 were occupied when I was there, which left the pool completely open for laps during the oppressively hot afternoons, which suited me just fine after a long, sweaty ride.

     I hired a driver to take me to Siem Reap, he managed to shorten a 5 -6 hour ride into a 4 hour every car he passed was nearly a head on collision trip. A little terrifying. But like I said, Cambodia is a little more wild east-ish. There is a definite flow to what seems like chaotic traffic - on the lowest rung of the totem pole is the pedestrian, then the cyclist, next is the moto (the very popular and ubiquitous 100cc scooter), tuk tuk’s, cars and finally, anything bigger than a car. Give way to the larger vehicle, they always have the right of way.

     The last few days in Phnom Penh were spent mostly dealing with, getting and picking up COVID tests. I knew this was going to be a hassle during this whole trip, but it is also what made it worthwhile - there weren’t many tourists around, which I was gambling on. When I got my negative test in PP, I fairly heard Charlie Bucket singing, “I’ve got a golden ticket!” And then I imagined the people at the test center looking at me as I smiled coming out singing, “He’s got a golden ticket!” It was just very relieving knowing the next leg of travel was a go.

     Because I love history, I also went to the Tuol Sleng Genocide museum, which was horrifying. Nobody knows exactly how many people were tortured and killed there, they estimate between 18 and 20,000 souls. But there are 12 known survivors. One of them was at the museum and I met him - his English seemed to be limited to “I sign for you, I sign for you,” as he sold the books. Just think about that - he sold books at the prison he was tortured at. I think the human capacity to adapt is nearly unlimited. 

Bou Meng, one of *12* survivors

     Unfortunately for me, I bought the French version of his book. My 7th and 8th grade French won’t get me very far, but being in Cambodia and the French book reminded me of the first time I was there. I ended up taking a motorcycle taxi to the Central Market and the driver said, “Parlez vous Francais?” This turned out to be an important life lesson. I said, relying on that 7th and 8th grade French, “Oui, je parle un peu de Francais.” The life lesson was: if you know a few phrases and words in another language, you don’t speak that language, so don’t say you do. Because if you do, you may end up on the backside of a motorcycle, going the wrong way on a one way street with some maniac nattering away in the language you said you spoke ‘a little’ of. 

     I also whiled away some time sitting on the banks of the mighty Mekong, watching the river life and enjoying the morning market.

Live aboard?

Keeping up with the news

Local fish monger

For those wondering, these are frogs.

     I managed to get out of Cambodia and back into Thailand, take another brain stab when I got the hotel and was put into COVID jail until the results came back. For the test and go program, you can’t leave your room until you get the results, and the call was not particularly welcome. I was tested around 1030 at night and the phone rang at 0937. “Sawadee Kaaaaaa, is this Kuhn Alan Taylor?” “Yes it is,” says I. “We are calling with the results of your COVID test from last night.” I know they’re calling with the results. There is no other reason for the phone to ring in my rather pleasant COVID cell. I prefer just sticking the knife in with no preliminaries. Mr. Taylor, you are negative, or tell me the opposite. Then she said, “The results are negative.”  Whew! I’m 21 days into this trip. The count is 8 PCR tests so far with one more to go. Hands down, worth it.

     

 

 

      Travel these days. Until you get on the plane, you don’t know what’s going to happen. And if you have multiple legs in your trip, then everything’s a crapshoot. And international travel? Pffffft. The odds are not in your favor. But I rolled the dice. I applied for the Thailand test and go pass and got approved back in early December. They shut that entry procedure down to new applicants, but those who did the limbo and got in under the wire were still okay to come in. Then they opened that program up again and changed some of the requirements. I’m expecting the unexpected. This trip was supposed to happen in March, 2020 but we all know how that panned out. 

     I finally got here on a different itinerary after the original one was cancelled due to weather and the second one for lack of crew rest. Once here, I got put into COVID jail until my first PCR test came back negative. Then I enjoyed sweet freedom for four more days until the next PCR test. I’ve been coming to Thailand fairly regularly since 1984 and every time I come, some things are still the same and some things change. The change? You can expect that because c’mon, 28 some years. And things that remain the same are in some ways…comforting, like the Red Bus.

     It has been many, many, many years since I’ve stepped foot into one of these, but when I first came here, there were a few ways of getting around the city. There were taxis, which no self respecting backpacker would ever take, those were for rich people. Then there was the Red Bus and Blue Bus. The Blue Bus had/has a/c. The Blue Bus has since been upgraded and digitized, the Red Bus remains unadulterated. Red was 2 Baht, Blue was 5 Baht, that’s back when the baht was fixed to the dollar at 25:1. I never experienced the delicious iciness of  the Blue Bus’ a/c. On the Red Bus it was crowded, you stood, it was hot and you sweated. But you were also saving that precious 3 Baht. The ticket lady would make her way up and down the aisle with a longish cylinder that she opened and closed with a distinct SNAP SNAP SNAP SNAP. SNAP. It was always that pattern - 4 snaps, then 1 sharp snap (Pay up). Give the lady your 2 Baht, and she’d take a ticket and SNAP a piece of the ticket off, indicating you paid. Then she’d go up and down the aisle, SNAP SNAP SNAP SNAPPING as she collected the fares. Who knows what happened on the Blue Bus, because that was for those who had extra Baht to throw around. Traffic has gotten much, much better and Bangkok is easy to get around due to their elevated rail system (BTS) and their subway (MRT), but the roads are still frenetic.

     Many, many other things have changed over the years, but I was particularly interested in what havoc the last two years wreaked. Bumrungrad Hospital was the same, a marvel of modern efficiency. I got a full physical done and visited my dermatologist. If you need to see a specialist after your physical for any reason, they’re available at Bumrungrad…the.same.damn.day. There are heaps of shops that once sold who knows what that are now shuttered. My favorite shawarma stand near Bumrungrad survived and even expanded. Bad Burger, which I only patronized once solely due to it’s ad “We take your money and make you fat” has permanently closed. Still love the honesty in advertising. 

     But one thing that has remained constant over the years is the way Bangkok wakes up, and this has always fascinated me. Street food. Hawkers. Every morning, they start from scratch and set up their stand. Some are really simple rigs, like the fruit sellers. A cart with ice and sliced fruit. 

No tricks. Papaya, watermelon, pineapple and whatever fruits that are in season. But these mobile food stands, which many Thais eat from every day, can be a little more complex. This lady looks like she has a som tam (papaya salad) stand, wheeled in and out every day.

People also cook, sometimes using earthen cookware with charcoal up to complete rigs attached to a motorcycle, cooking with propane. They carry seats and tables to set up as well, like this lady. 

Every night, they break it down. Every morning, they set it up. The food is delicious and with very low fixed costs, the price is right. Here’s a middle man, selling vegetable and herbs to other hawkers for their stands - 

     Street food. I love it, and I’m going to continue noshing on it for the next month. Gwyne is going to come during the last two weeks of this trip to do her physical at Bumrungrad and get in some beach time for a much needed vacation. She’s 50% Japanese, but 100% petrified of germs. When the pandemic hit in 2020, we already had plenty of sanitizer around the house, and a few masks as well. When she comes, if I want to eat with her (and I do), we won’t be eating street food. But the smart money should be betting on me sneaking off for some unobserved snacks.