As a traveler, I am avid and rabid in my quest for new sights, sounds, smells and experiences. This present quest was focused on Cambodia, a country neither Jeff nor I had yet to encounter, and the Mecca of all South East Asia temples, Angkor Wat. With our limited time, we felt it wise to expediate our travel plans, and against all better sense of adventure, decided to return to the airport the next day and catch a flight to Hanoi’s southern counterpart, Ho Chi Minh City. It was from here that we would be able to travel to the Viet Nam-Cambodian border and the unknown lands beyond.
But first, we had way too much weed left, which overcautiously or not, we decided not to bring with us on the plane. We did, however, put forth a valiant effort aboard a swan paddle boat in the choppy waters of Lake -----. And later as we walked outside of the airport surrounded by police and military personnel, cupping a joint palm down and acting with the boldness unique to these vacations, we got ourselves right for the upcoming flight.
We spent one, too-short night in Ho Chi Minh City, before we boarded a bus early the next morning, on the eve of Christmas, which took us three hours to the Viet Nam-Cambodian border, over the Mekong River on a shabby ferry and finally to the center of Phnom Penh
When the bus stopped in the dusty lot outside the Orussey Market in downtown Phnom Penh, we piled out into the hot midday sun. Most of the other passengers had a sense of where they were headed and Jeff and I were soon the only ones left standing there, easy prey for the lurking tuk-tuk drivers who watched us from the other side of the fence, like vultures eyeing two fresh carcasses.
The tuk-tuk is Southeast Asia’s answer to the taxi. There are many versions of the tuk-tuk throughout the various countries, but in Cambodia a tuk-tuk was simply a metal frame carriage hitched to the back of a motorbike. The streets swarm with these indigent taxis, being the only apparent means of intra-city public transportation.
Due to the abundance of these vehicles, their drivers are, to say the least, a bit overzealous in their sales techniques, especially when it comes to foreigners because with foreigners the standard fare is quite a bit higher than with locals. It seems there is no real way to let these gentlemen tuk-tuk drivers understand that we are not looking for a ride other than a terribly unfriendly, cold hard stare, and even that deters only the weak or lazy ones. The true entrepreneurs will walk with you, talk with you and stalk you for an uncomfortably long time. Their conversation is nonstop imperfect English and can occasionally hold some interest; but to reveal such interest only adds to the time it will take to shake them from your coattails. One driver, whose name I forget, made a good impression with his informed tidbits on Khmer culture, and though we eventually ditched him that day he would reappear the following day, Christmas, and lead us to some twisted activities.
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