Magnus has always been a scavenger. When he walks he is constantly scanning the ground for interesting things and has found a lot of stuff over the years, including money. This morning as we were walking into town he found a US hundred-dollar bill. He ran over to us and was so excited that I could see the spending plans already beginning to take shape in his mind. He gave me the bill to look at and it appeared sort of real, but the paper just seemed a little flimsy and it was an older bill without all the security features. I told him it was probably a fake, but he wouldn’t throw in the towel until he had independent verification, so he ran into the first money changer he could find, showed them the bill, and was immediately shooed away. He wasn’t happy with their evaluation of the authenticity of the bill so found another currency exchange place and the clerk could see from ten feet away that the bill was a fake. He wasn’t too disappointed as I think he had his doubts too that he would be able to find a hundred bucks on the road that the thousands of poverty stricken locals had somehow missed. We found out later that these fake hundreds are used for fun at weddings and also to put as offerings at Buddhist temples. He says he is going to keep it as a souvenir instead, but I think he will try to spend it the next time we are in Buffalo.
Our immediate mission for the morning was to get myself a haircut and Tony a shave. He hadn’t shaved for a week so was starting to get the salt and pepper Sean Connery look, making him irresistible to women, so I guess Angela told him it was time to scrape off the sex appeal. We found a barber and the girls and kids continued on walking while I stepped up to the plate and Tony got on deck. I asked the barber, with hand motions, to trim it all up, especially the top. So he got to work on that while I sat back and relaxed. He buzzed the sides just fine but didn’t cut a lot off the top so I asked him to take off some more, but he seemed reluctant to do so, so I put my trust in his judgement. As he was finishing, I motioned for him to trim up the goatee as it was getting a little scruffy. Using my best hand motions I indicated for him to trim it up slightly, pointing to the electric clippers. He gave me a nod indicating he understood completely and then rocked my chair back, grabbed a straight razor, and before I knew it half of my chin fluff was lying on the floor. There was no stopping him now so I just relaxed and enjoyed the dance of the straight razor, and when I emerged I was clean and hairless.
Tony was up next and the barber went to work with the straight razor, using neither hot water nor shaving foam. I was expecting we’d both be covered in razor burn but that did not happen. We’re thinking that since we were already hot and sweating there wasn’t much need for anything else. Don’t try that in Canada on a cold February morning, or you will come out looking like a murder victim.
We continued walking along the road and caught up with the ladies who were immediately stunned by my new look. Ana said she felt like she just got her old boyfriend back so I was good with that. Stella wasn’t too happy as she seems to prefer me with facial hair, but I am sure she will get used to it. We continued walking with the girls and we must have gone at least 25 steps before they found another shop to go into so we waited outside while they went browsing. A tuk-tuk driver walked up to us and tried selling us a ride, or a day trip, or even to lay in his hammock strung across the machine, but despite his persistence we just wouldn’t buy anything from him.
“You like some Lady Boom Boom?” he asked.
“Lady Boom Boom?” I inquired. “Sounds good but I’ll have to check with my wife.” His English didn’t extend far enough to understand my joke.
“Lady Boom Boom, right now, no problem!” he persisted. Tony and I just looked at each other and laughed. Then this pack of kids and wives came out and joined us and all humour on this guy’s face dropped, and was replaced with sheer embarrassment.
“Hey, this guy going to get us some Lady Boom Boom, you girls okay with that?” I asked Ana and Angela. They looked at the tuk-tuk driver and then back at us and started shaking their heads. The tuk-tuk driver could tell what going on, and all of a sudden he pointed at his buddy (who hadn’t said a word the entire time) and says, “It was his idea, not mine!” Buddy, mystified at how he had suddenly been dragged into this, shook his head vigorously and reassigned the blame. Cambodians are the greatest.
We stopped for fifty cent drafts and overpriced juice at one of the places on Pub Street while the shopping expedition continued. Our plan for the day was to visit Angkor Artisans, which is an organization that trains young Cambodians to become craftsmen, and runs a silk farm. After walking around downtown for a while, asking various people for directions, we soon found it and were allowed to browse through the various workshops watching the young carvers at work. They produce a lot of small tourist stuff, such as Buddha heads and Khmer images, but also do large projects such as reconstructing stone carvings at local and international archaeological sites.
Earlier in the day, we had booked ourselves on the free shuttle bus to the silk farm, and on the bus we met a lovely Danish family and talked with them non-stop the entire way. Their names were Alex and Signe and they had two beautiful young daughters. I really impressed the girls with my extensive knowledge of the Danish language (about 6 words), which they thought was pretty funny as I completely mangled the pronunciation.
We had visited this silk farm the last time we were here, but we loved coming for a second time as it was very hard to understand how the whole process works; even now I still have questions. But from what I gather, they grow acres of mulberry trees, trim the leaves, feed the leaves to the silk worms housed in baskets, the worms spin cocoons and then 80% of them are left out in the sun to kill the worms and the other 20% are allowed to metamorphosize into moths to be used for breeding and producing eggs. The cocoons are then put through processes to remove the raw silk and fine silk which are transformed into coloured thread and then weaved into all sorts of intricate patterns, resulting in rolls of silk fabric. The tour takes you through each step of the process, and by the end you are feeling that paying fifty bucks for a small scarf is a very good deal indeed considering the intensive manual labour that went into making it.
After the tour, we joined up with our new Danish friends for drinks and a meal at a restaurant we found called Pot and Pan, and we ate what most agreed was the best meal in Cambodia so far. We had a great chat with Alex and Signe and by the end of the meal felt as if we’d known them for years. They even invited us to stay with them in Denmark some time, and you just can’t beat staying with friends when traveling.
As we were eating we got hit with a torrential downpour that lasted longer and dumped more rain than most of the ones we had experienced in Thailand. Until now we hadn’t had much rain at all in Cambodia, but it seemed to be coming all at once. The Henriques decided to go back to the hotel so they got in a rain-proofed tuk-tuk and paddled away. We said goodbye to our new friends and waited for a break in the rain to run down the street to the cinema and made it just in time for the evening showing of “War for the Planet of the Apes”. During our trip three years ago, we also went to see the latest release of this series, so it was all feeling very familiar.
After the movie (which was fantastic) we tuk-tuk’d back to the hotel, did some final packing for tomorrow’s departure, and called it a night.
Yesterday we hired our airport mini-bus driver Bross to take us to Angkor Wat today, as his rate was reasonable $40 for the entire day for all eight of us. We had an early breakfast, served up by the ever-smiling hotel staff, and were on our way to Angkor by 8 am.
The driver told us that there had been some sort of ownership change at the park, or organizational change, and as a result the ticket prices had gone up. The one day pass that was $20 three years ago was now $37, but kids under the age of 12 still got in for free. The better deal was the three day pass at $67 but we all agreed that one day would probably be sufficient.
As this was our second visit to the park, we knew what to expect and probably did not experience the overwhelming sense of wonder we did when seeing it for the first time. Nevertheless, it was still amazing seeing it for the second time. The scale of the temples is massive, and the intricate carvings on millions of individual sandstone rocks seem simply impossible, yet there it is in front of you. For our first visit here three years ago we hired a tuk-tuk to take us around from temple to temple, but I am sure glad we got a mini-van this time as having a periodic break in an air conditioned space was welcome. We got lucky with the weather as it was overcast the entire day so were spared being scorched by the full force sun.
We visited four temples in total, and by the time we finished with the magnum opus Angkor Wat temple, the group was pretty much satisfied, so we had Bross take us back to the hotel. Like last time I’m reluctant to write too much about Angkor as I think it is a place that everybody who has the means to visit, should visit, as there is no other place like it on earth.
During our hotel chill down, Stella spent much of it feeding and playing with the five pet bunnies that were kept in a cage at the hotel. She even gave them names: Snowball, Ice, Lilly, Luna and Loner, and she commanded us to feed them at least one leaf every time we passed by the cage on the way up to our room. Oh, and we were instructed to check that their water bottle was filled too.
Before we knew it, we were back on Pub Street, wandering the streets, watching people and being asked every twenty seconds if we needed a tuk-tuk. We had a backpacker dinner of soup and fruit back in the hotel, so weren’t looking for a big meal, but we did have some snacks at one place, along with those excellent value fifty cent drafts, that you just never tire of.
We spent some time walking through the giant night market, and at one point I got distracted by a book vendor and fell behind the rest of the group. I was haggling with the owner on a counterfeit Vietnam Lonely Planet book that she was willing to sell for five bucks, but I just didn’t think I needed another book to carry around, as I still haven’t finished that damn Moby Dick that I brought with me, so I told her I was going to ask my wife first. As I was walking to catch up with my group, I passed by a classy joint called “Master Hand Massage” and was practically tackled to the ground by two ladies, or perhaps lady-boys, anxious to enlist me as a customer, assuming I was a lonely bachelor. I believe Tony had the same experience, because as I managed to slip away from them I looked ahead to see Tony looking back, laughing at me. When I reached the group half a block later, I started telling Ana about the Lonely Planet book and lo and behold, the vendor was standing right beside me holding the book up, smiling. Man, these people know how to make a sale! Yes, I bought it. How could I not?
Now that we’re fully adjusted to the time, getting up at 3:30 am was a real pain in the ass. I think we may have misjudged how much time we would need, because when we arrived at 4:15 the Air Asia counter had just opened and we were the only ones in line, and the check in lady told us that security didn’t even open until 5. A few of the shops in the departure lounge were open, but nearly all of the employees had their heads down at their counters, sound asleep.
The Henriques arrived shortly after us and we lounged around until security opened and then we went through and got settled near our gate. I met a nice couple there – the wife was from France and the husband from Germany and we had a great chat about the current political situation in their respective countries and what the effects of the Syrian migration had had on each. Those damn Europeans always make us look bad – both of them spoke perfect French, German and English, and probably a couple more languages besides that.
The Air Asia flight departed on time and the hour and twenty minute flight felt like nothing, especially since filling out all of the required Cambodian arrival documents took up half of that time. We arrived in Siem Reap, paid US$30 each for our visas, hired a mini-bus, and were headed for our hotel – the Indra Porak. Getting to the hotel was a bit tricky, as it is very close to a busy local market, so the driver could only inch his way along the too-narrow road, which was also congested with motorbikes, tuk-tuks, vendors, pedestrians, dogs, chickens, and surely rodents, as there was an awful lot of discarded food laying around.
We did eventually get to the hotel, but he had to take a back way around that led us across a shaky wooden bridge which spanned a small creek, and may have doubled as a sewage canal. It’s funny how these small, quaint, serene, boutique hotels are located right in the middle of crazy, congested areas, but once you add in a brick wall and a lot of greenery, you are perfectly shielded from the chaos, but the chaos is only steps away if you feel inclined to participate.
The Cambodian staff members who greeted us were the kindest and gentlest people you could imagine. If you have ever read anything about the history of Cambodia in the 20th century, you would know that these people have been to hell and back, a couple of times, so the fact that they are so incredibly hospitable and friendly is a real testament to their spirit, their nature, and their ability to somehow move on from tragedy and despair. I read that the book, “First They Killed My Father” by Loung Ung is being released as a movie or documentary soon. I hope it does justice to the book, as it is one of the saddest and most powerful I have ever read.
The rooms were not yet ready for us, as we arrived well before the normal check-in time, so we took seats in the restaurant and ordered breakfast. The breakfast was okay, except for the croissants, which were reported as the best anybody in the group has ever eaten. I had to agree.
The staff announced that our rooms were ready and we hauled all our gear up the staircase to the second floor where they were located. They were large, roomy, had a massive bathroom and shower area, and the beds felt fantastic. While we were waiting the ladies were perusing the spa menu and were oh so pleased to discover that a 60 minute massage could be had for 8 dollars, so they booked the four parents in for an early afternoon rub-down. Actually, Ana went for the facial, which was an extravagant 14 dollars, but we’re big spenders here in the Holrique gang.
The spa girls arrived at our rooms and we sent the kiddies away to entertain themselves for an hour. One of them started lathering up Ana’s face with green stuff while the other jumped on top of me and started kneading, rubbing and stretching my body into all sorts of unrecognizable shapes and contortions. It was awesome. Somehow, during one of the less intensive phases of the therapy, I fell asleep and cranked out one big snore which caused the two Cambodian girls to break out in laughter, which woke me up and kept me awake for the remainder of the massage.
For our first day in Siem Reap we decided to chill out by the pool and relax until closer to dinner time, at which point we’d head into town. Our hotel was a two-dollar tuk-tuk ride from the centre so around 6 pm we grabbed two of them and were dropped off on Pub Street within ten minutes. The standard Cambodian tuk-tuk is a small motorcycle towing a buggy which holds four passengers. The buggy itself has a cover on top for the rain, but no sides so you can hang your arms and legs out as the driver whips you around corners, threads you through traffic, speeds you through intersections, drags you through puddles, winds you round round-a-bouts, and finally screeches you to a halt at your final destination, which is usually either a restaurant or a market.
Before leaving for downtown, Magnus and I took a stroll through the local market that was close to our hotel. The dirt roads had turned to muddy pits in the lower spots and the constant flow of motorcycles, tuk-tuks, and pedestrians spread the muddy mixture throughout. The majority of the vendors were selling food and household items. Fruit vendors had large bowls with dragon fruits, bananas, rambutans, pineapples, mangosteens, papayas and many others I couldn’t identify. One vendor had a table with the parts from a single butchered chicken, which she fanned constantly to thwart the flies attempting to land and snack. The air was heavy with so many smells; sometimes a strong whiff of gasoline exhaust, then a burst of turned meat, then a penetrating sniff of incense and, always, the ever present odour of durian, even though we couldn’t see a damn durian anywhere. Magnus found a vendor selling bundles of incense sticks and asked how much it was for a bundle of about 50. She gave us the price in Cambodian reals, and if I remembered the conversion correctly it was about 50 cents, so I gave her an American one-dollar bill and she gave me back 2000 reals. We then stopped at a fruit vendor, I pointed at the rambutans, held out a 1000 note bill and she gave me a bag of six of them. With the remaining 1000 bill I stopped at another vendor, pointed at the bananas, and was given a full bunch. This was enough fruit to snack on for two days and enough incense for a year. Not bad for a buck.
The tuk-tuks dropped us off on Pub Street, which is the heart of the action in Siem Reap. It was only about 5pm, so the place was hours away from its peak, yet already full of people walking around and exploring the many shops, restaurants, bars, massage parlours, and exotic bug snack vendors. I picked up a one dollar bag of fried crickets, which gave me about 50 or 60 of them. Did I get any takers? Magnus tried one, Stella tried one, and Tony and I popped them like peanuts. I couldn’t convince the others to, but I would continue to try unsuccessfully until the end of the evening. You simply cannot visit Cambodia without sampling insects. I think I was being easy on everybody with my choice of crickets, considering they were also selling tarantulas on a stick, fried frogs, roasted snakes, and steam cooked cockroaches – all of which had a higher brain and guts content then our easily snackable dried cricket treats.
Tony and I got seated in comfy chairs at the Temple bar while the rest of the group went to explore the market. The sign out front said “50 cent draft” and sure enough they served us tall glasses of Angkor lager for the low, low price of fifty cents, which paired perfectly with the crickets. We met an Aussie couple whom we chatted with for a long while, and before long Mackenzie turned up, bored by the shopping experience, but still not prepared to eat a cricket.
The girls arrived, proudly showing off their purchased treasures, which included scarves, dresses, purses, and a three-headed elephant figure that Magnus negotiated the vendor down from five bucks to a dollar-fifty. We all had a drink together and then set off in search of a feesh spa (yes, it should be spelled “fish spa” but I can’t help but to spell it the way they say it when they are asking you to buy one– feeeesh spa? The number of “e’s” depends on their level of enthusiasm while asking.). Siam Reap simply has the best feesh spas anywhere as they are located right on the street edge and they serve you beer while you sit there having your feet sucked and nibbled on by fish of all shapes, sizes and varieties. During our previous visit, the feesh spas usually had only small fish, but the one we found had much larger ones and immediately after submerging my feet, two largish, bottom feeding catfish-type creatures each took hold of a pinky toe and started sucking away. It felt strange, but wonderful, and soon a dozen other hungry fish had joined their companions in scouring the goodies off my feet, as well as the feet of my companions, except Stella who, although brave enough to sign up, just couldn’t handle the ticklish sensation, so she just sat beside us on the tank, hovering her feet over the water, cautiously dipping her feet in, then then yanking them out the moment a toe sucker got too close.
We settled on an Italian place for dinner and the servers set us up with a table for eight, right on the street, but we didn’t stay long out there for long as it started to pour rain so we moved inside to a large, comfortable booth. The food was decent, but Ana had been feeling progressively worse and worse and by the end of the meal she could barely keep her eyes open so we grabbed a pair of tuk-tuks and tucked it back to the hotel, putting the wraps on another big day.
