You might think that Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos and Thailand would be relatively similar to one another, given how close they are geographically. You would be wrong.

These are ethnically rich and culturally diverse nations that have been influenced by a lot of the same people through periods of war and colonization. There is a very stark difference in the way people interact with you as a foreigner in Indochina and in some places it’s a bit overwhelming.

 

I foolishly assumed that cities within Cambodia would feel similar, and I was greeted with four very different experiences in each place I visited. Phnom Penh was chaotic. An authentically dirty, third-world capital city. It wasn’t pretty and it wasn’t made for tourists, but there they (we, tourists) are, obvious strangers in a strange land. Here the obvious, nearly obligatory, attractions are the Killing Fields and the S21 museum. They are fucked up reminders of the extreme horror that humanity is capable of, and though it isn’t easy to see, I believe it is our responsibility to learn as much history first-hand as possible. If you want to know more about that, read my last post “War Crimes in Indochina.”

 

In Phnom Penh I also visited the Royal Palace, including the Silver Pagoda, Russian Market and Night Market. Don’t we all just fucking love palaces, markets and temples?!?! I’m rolling my eyes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Many of these are beautiful, worthwhile and amazing, but would you go to Europe for two months and only look at those things? Maybe you would, you loser. But what I like the most about traveling is getting a feel for the city and for its people, and how you are different and the same. I definitely enjoy markets for this reason, to be fair, but I also enjoy spending time just observing.

I didn’t observe much in Phnom Penh because, frankly, I was a bit culture shocked at first. And my hostel sold joints and had a pool so I was stoned a lot of the time. Didn’t stop me from sightseeing, but I was pretty content. I flipped that switch pretty hard when I landed in Sihanoukville. And by landed I mean arrived after a five hour bus journey.

I didn’t really spend much time in Sihanoukville proper, but it’s low season now and everything is quiet. No complaints from me, though, that’s for sure. I scurried my way to Otres Beach, a 15 minute or so tuk-tuk ride from the town center, and when I walked into Sea Garden I fell in love instantly. Though it was the last sunny day I would see there, I’m glad it was shining when I arrived.

Sea Garden is one of a handful of bungalow accommodations directly on Otres Beach and the vibe there is everything. Go there. Just do it. Tell Joe that Kate sent you. He won’t remember me, I’m sure, but tell him anyway, he’s a cool dude. This place is clean, friendly, cozy and chill while still being very minimal. It’s just an awesome place I’m grateful to have experienced.

 

 

 

 

Anyway, the whole point of me going to Otres beach was so I could catch a boat to Koh Ta Kiev, the island no one has heard of. It took me uncharacteristically long to get there because I was misdirected, then the tuk-tuk broke down, then I ran uphill pushing the tuk-tuk. When I arrived at the boat pick-up spot for when there’s inclement  weather (a Navy base), the entrance was blocked, so I got out and started walking. One of the boat captains cruised through a small gap in the fence on his motorbike and myself and another guy hopped on the bike with hi–three people, four bags, one bike–and rode to the water.

This other guy, who fancies himself one of those authentic travelers (but is really a deluded hipster), told me (with confidence) to get on the wrong boat, which led to me switching boats on the water. When I finally arrived on the island I saw no one, except a smiley Khmer man waving me along. The guys unloaded the supplies onto a tractor. Once the gas can, water, beer and ice were loaded, I also got on the tractor. The smiley man, Mr, Kojun, and I drove through the jungle for 20 minutes and I still had no idea what was going on, but I was optimistic about my odds for survival. I was right. I’m alive. Hooray.

Rainy season left the bungalows, called Ten103 Treehouse Bay, nearly deserted, as well as the rest of the island. My second day I went for a walk on the beach, and in two hours I only saw locals–a Khmer mother and son, and two men who looked like they worked on the island. A secret beach and a jungle adventure.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I seriously loved this place. I would love to go back for several months and live as a part of the incredible team of humans who live and work together for Ten103 Treehouse Bay, whom I got to know pretty well. No wifi, no electricity, no running water, no problem.

Low season is rainy season and there was only one night that the storms got to me. By that point I was comfortable with the jungle and the noises it makes, but a HUGE storm rolled through after visiting Japan and Vietnam and started fucking with the trees around the dorm where I was sleeping. With three walls to the dorm, we could watch the storm over the ocean, but also hear branches falling on the roof. On the top bunk I convinced myself a tree was about to fall through and crush me. It didn’t. Hooray.

Anyway, paradise. Yep. Bucket showers are a-ok with me!

After several days I returned to the mainland and reconnected. I showered and it was glorious. I sat down to pee and it was amazing. It was also still raining but I decided to hang at Sea Garden again for a couple more days to re-acclimate.

 

 

 

I got an AMAZING massage at Relax in Sihanoukville, posted a package that required me to lick about 13 stamps, and chilled out with some new friends. But I did have to move on, so I took an overnight sleeper bus from Sihanoukville to Siem Reap.

 

Lucky for me, I had some solid bunk mates. We all had shared beds on the bus. As a solo traveler, I slept next to a really nice stranger, an Australian girl, and we talked with the two across the aisle from us. Canadians. After several stops, some sketchy pee breaks and 11 hours, we arrived in Siem Reap.

Day one was a wash as it was raining and the Canadians, plus three Brits they knew, and I drank all day. We experienced a party hostel off season, which was mildly pathetic, and Pub Street, which is exactly what you’d expect it to be.

The next morning I rolled out of bed for a solo adventure (with my awesome tuk-tuk driver, Vanna!) and we headed out to a temple I should really know the name of. It was much less crowded than the internationally known Angkor complex, though a Chinese family, part of a large tour, did throw their baby into my arms and proceded to take turns in pictures. #familyalbum

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We walked the temple and grounds, hung around on vines and watched some kids fish.

At this point I was dead tired and hungover. But we were headed to one of the floating villages…which was actually much more interesting  than I thought it would be. I hired a boat and our driver turned the key in the ignition and steered us out with his Honda steering wheel and gas pedal. We cruised to the village, seeing lots of fish traps along the way.

People of all ages were in boats, working or playing in the water. I’m surprised they haven’t evolved to full amphibian. At the far end of the village there were some restaurants and a beautiful floating forest. A little further was Cambodia’s response to the Great Lakes. I couldn’t see the other end of it, just water and weeds as far as the eye could see, even standing on the bow of the boat. Vanna told me that you could travel to Phnom Penh on that lake. Crazy, I had absolutely no idea that existed.

 

 

We turned back to grab some food. At the floating restaurant we messed with the caged crocodiles (farmed for food), lazed in hammocks, ate and stared into the flooded forest.

On the way back, the boat pulled up to shore so we could walk through the village. When the rains come and the village floods this part is under water, so it wasn’t the cleanest. Still, I almost stepped on a decaying rat…about 100ft from where I saw a naked toddler playing with a 6in knife. I don’t know.

Next thing I know I’m surrounded by tiny perfect angel children and a woman is telling me to purchase books and pencils for them. Obviously I did. Because I’m a humanitarian. And I’m a sucker for kids even when I know I’m falling victim to a scam. But whatever, those kids were happy and so was I.

That night I passed out at 7:30.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Day three I was up at 4:30am to head to Angkor Wat for sunrise…me and everyone else. And, as it turns out, both the Canadians and the Brits. It was a pretty underwhelming sunrise with a huge crowd, but the temple complex was really cool.

 

 

 

 

 

 

After sunrise we all grabbed coffee and headed into the temple. The architecture, carvings, reliefs and composition are just so damn old and unlike anything I had seen up to that point.

We saw four or five temples over the span of several hours, and by the time the day was ending they started to blend together, so here are some gems:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Brits, Canadians and I all went out for some pizza that night and I passed out super early again. No shame. We all chilled together the next day until I had to leave for the airport. And damn, Laos is a whole different animal.