Cambodia

I was determined to beat the fastest recorded internet time from Phu Quoc to Kep of 8 hours and thought we were in with a good chance as although people had used the newly opened border to avoid the circuitous route via Saigon and Phnom Penh they hadn’t apparently used the Ham Tinh – Ha Tien ferry which was much more direct. It was much slower and more decrepit too but luckily the sea was as calm as a Laoatian after a Happy Pizza and despite a couple of fish ‘pit stops’ mid-ocean we arrived safely 3 1/2 hours later. Unfortunately, unaccustomed as they were in Ha Tien to tourists, there was not a single taxi in the entire town. We struggled by foot to the Ha Tien hotel, refusing the kind but rather ambitious offers of transportation by single motorbike for 4 people and 80kg luggage ( piece of cake for Cambodians as we would later discover). Within the hour we had commandeered a local businessman’s van for the last 10km or so to the border. Paperwork on the Vietnamese side was swift and easy but where was Cambodian immigration ? We were pointed in the direction of some stunning scenery on both sides of a tarmac road with a just distinguishable Cambodian flag in the distance about 600m away. It felt like we had been released on a long march to freedom with the most beautiful countryside since Van Vieng surrounding us in this strange almost surreal ‘no man’s land’. Having been stung by customs for an extra $20 but thinking we had got away with a bargain (Adults are $20 each and children free but we thought everybody was $20) and by the department of health for a less ambitious $1 we were then told by the Police department we would have to go back and reclaim our overcharged $20. So much for Cambodian police corruption – this guy must have been from internal affairs. By the time we had recouped the cash and had our visas made up and stamped 16 times each, we were 6 hours into the trip and poor old Mr How, our prearranged taxi driver, had been expecting us 2 hours previously. Still he remained cheerful if somewhat ruddy faced from the midday sun and we embarked on the final 30 km leg to Kep. The first 2km were more moon-cratered than pot-holed but the views more than compensated for the bumpy ride with lush green paddies, wallowing buffalo bollock deep in mud (must be fun when it dries) and pretty thatch and bamboo huts. Giant ceramic pots with fires underneath dotted the landscape in an archaic hot rainwater system and vast numbers of paddy fields were being manually constructed using simple hoes. Massey Ferguson would make a killing here if anyone had any money but the catch 22 is that if they did they wouldn’t be living on mainly rice on an annual salary of around $300 (still three times better of than many in Laos). The rest of the journey was swift once we hit the main road and we got to Kep after 6 hours 45 mins wiping over an hour off the record. Top Travelling.