DEATH IN CAMBODIA Part 3

Angkor Wat

"What do you call this?", you point to the photo on your phone, asking the waiter where this big tree is. Though you didn't see Angelina's Tomb Raider.

"Ta Prohm," the Angkor Cafe waiter says and instructs you to just tell your tuktuk driver its name and you should be there in 15 minutes.

Above: Make sure to catch the
sunrise in Angkor Wat

Below: The Giant Tree
in Ta Prohm

Yes, you thought Angkor Wat was just one big complex, with all the temples and the Tomb Raider references. An hour earlier, you were just looking for it (that big tree) in Angkor Wat, but apparently you were wrong. The "Angkor Wat" we know has multiple sites, and public transport may be a hassle, so better hire a tuktuk. You got yours for $12, with pickup from the hotel at 5am, returning after lunch.

You get to Ta Prohm and the tuktuk can't drive you past the gate anymore. TC starts snapping photos again, and the sound of Cambodian music starts to fade in. After 10 minutes of walking, you see what could be the tallest tree you have seen in your entire life.

You and TC take turns in taking each other's photos, with you avoiding to offend the monk in the background. Earlier though, you took some photos of monks, beside the house you believe they live in. You're still in shock though, after seeing a smoking monk.

Past the very organized tour group of Koreans, all obediently following their guide's instructions, you navigate back to the entrance of the compound to say goodbye to your "Angkor Wat" experience, though technically, again, this is not Angkor Wat.

It's just about noon, and while tourists marvel at the history of all these Siem Reap temples, you thought of a different thing to do. While Superman navigates the highway linking  the temples to town, you ask your tuktuk driver while the motorcycle engine roars, "Can you bring us to a market where no tourists go?". He agrees.

Fried Crickets, anyone?

Half an hour later, you and TC try to find souvenirs in a local market in the middle of nowhere. No tourists, save for a Caucasian couple who may have had temple overload too. Everything costs $5, at least that's what the storekeepers tell you. You, however, don't bother how much edible crickets your five dollars could get you. •

DEATH IN CAMBODIA Part 2

TC in a local Siem Reap Market

The Ei8ht Hotel owners, Jason and Kifi, respond to your email that they do not have a pool. And you'd think they will end their reply abruptly with a "Thank You". But you are wrong:

After reading your email, it’s best for you to stay either at the GB Resort or V Hotel (hotel names changed). Both of these 2 places are near to the city center and have swimming pools. They may cost a little more but we are pretty sure you and your companion will  have a really good time there. 

TC at Ei8ht Bar, which is another story

It doesn't end there. They have attached maps, brochures, and other links you and TC may enjoy. And as the Ei8ht Hotel owners say, "There is more to Siem Reap than temples."

You walk to Petit Villa's front desk by the pond, aftet taking a refreshing bath. While TC prepares for today's unplanned adventure, you try to reserve a tuktuk for half of the day. The tuktuk cost can be put on your bill but the receptionist Boray suggests you pay the tuktuk driver directly. He adds, "If you pay him directly, he can buy food for his family before he goes home." So $12 for four hours is not bad. At least you can just roam around the city, wherever you feel like it.

Superman's Tuktuk

Superman, your tuktuk, is already ready by the time you and TC exit Petit Villa. 

Time for another unplanned adventure!

Tuktuks on Pub Street

Khmer Lunch at Pub Street

First stop is to grab lunch at Pub Street. You really, really wish you were as adventurous as others when it comes to food. You didn't try kangaroo or snake last night, though it could have been an experience. You settle for something familiar - rice, and curry, and spring rolls. It's a little expensive, at $20 for two, but it is Pub Street - where backpackers, mostly Caucasians, stay up till the wee hours to party the night away. 

Snake or Kangaroo?
At one of Pub Street's Restaurants

Next stop is the post office to send postcards to your friends who love receiving snail mail. The post office is tucked away in a quiet part of the city. By the river. Scrap that, by the brown river. Scrap that again: By the DARK brown and murky river. And with the closest seaside being about eight hours by bus away, maybe not a good idea to order fish on this trip.

You ask Superman to bring you to the mall. Petit Villa's manager mentions that there IS a mall in Siem Reap. 

Pinoy Products in a Cambodian
Supermarket

Lucky Mall is about ten minutes away by tuktuk from the hotel. It's not much - Lucky Supermarket on the ground floor, Lucky Burger and Lucky Cafe on the second, and random shops on the third. Everything in the supermarket, well almost, is imported, mostly from Thailand. But it was interesting when you found found Skin White, Purefoods Sisig, and MaxiPeel in the supermarket shelves.

Upon your return to Petit Villa, you ask Superman to pick you up for lunch the next day, TC's birthday.

And so he does. Superman is pretty early for lunch. 

The DARK brown river

You at Neary, a Khmer Restaurant

Deep Friend "Serpant" Fish
 and Shrimp

Superman, highly recommends Neary Restaurant, while driving his tuktuk towards the outskirts of the city, past the DARK brown and murky  river. He'd probably get a commission for bringing us there, which us fine by us. 

Lo and behold, TC, who is celebrating his birthday, orders "Serpant Fish Deep Fried", off the menu. 

TC asks if you want to have some. You just smile, imagine where the fish used to live, and imagine how the serpant fish tastes. Welcome to Cambodia •

BANGKOK BANTER: SEARCHING SALADAENG

"Saladaeng?", you worriedly ask the airport bus driver, while holding on to the back of his seat and trying to balance, as the bus is moving.

The bus stops at a red light. You have read in your previous Wikitravel research that Bangkok traffic is horrible. You never expected it was this bad. An hour after leaving the airport, you are still on the road.

The driver picks up what looks like a map with numerous checks written over the passengers' stops.

With a thick Thai accent, he tells you, "Saladaeng, there," he points to the back to the bus, indicating that we have passed my stop and he actually forgot to drop me off. Great. This is just so great, considering today is your birthday.

"We come back later," he assures you, as if that is some consolation that you should be thankful for. He mutters something Thai, probably saying he will just bring all passengers to their destination, then drop you off on his way back to the airport.

You settle back in your airport bus seat, trying not to be pissed. You look out the bus window, looking for street signs, and checking your travel guide book where you are. It looks like the weather is nice, as it is sunny. You take a deep breath. You should probably be in your hotel by now, resting, in the Pop Art Room you fell in love with the first time you saw it online.

Bangkok resembles home. Traffic is bumper to bumper to bumper. Some streets seriously resemble Taft Avenue, complete with their very own MRT stations. Had it not been for the street signs in Thai, you'd probably think you are still home.

Half an hour later, on the busy road of Silom (which your travel book says is the Thai Ayala Avenue), the driver stops and tells the last passenger (yes, that's you) that this is the Saladaeng stop, pronounced as "Sah-lah-deng".

You pick up your bag and still manage to blurt out a barely audible thank you, even if deep down inside your heart, your mind, and your soul, you should be cursing this bus driver who should have dropped you here 45 minutes earlier. But you didn't want to do that - you fear that karma would be faster in Thailand, a predominantly Buddhist country.

Tuktuks, the Thai version of a tricycle, with an open air back, zoom past you. You are amazed by the number of pink taxicabs around. You cover your nose with a hanky and cough a bit, since you feel like the smoke from the gazillions of cars around you is starting to envelope you. 

It was a little past lunch time now. You are hungry, sleepy, and tired. To top that, you feel lost in the  middle of  Bangkok. And the weather is making it worse - it is about 30 degrees Celsius. 

You are at the corner of Silom and Saladaeng - tall buildings, money changers, retaurants, bars, convenience stores, and coffee shops all around you, with the Bangkok MRT line dissecting this crowded part of the city.

You pull out the hotel map and walk towards where you think the hotel is. You walk past street vendors and though you are tempted to eat mami, Thai-style, you wanted to settle in your hotel room first. Frustrated, you walk up to an effeminate guy on the phone outside the salon where he works. He is probably talking to his boyfriend, but you forgot all the manners you have, try to butt in, and ask for directions. Surprised, and a little annoyed, he instructs you to go down the road further, and says that it should be right after a small market. The vision of you sleeping beside fish and vegetables is not a good one, but you proceed to search for your hotel.

Baan Saladaeng (which literally means Saladaeng House) is on a small soi, a Thai alley. The hotel is painted red and sits at the end of the alley, assuring you that it is far from the maddening crowds of Silom. And thankfully, the market is closed today. Not much people around. Finally, you can rest.

Art, the friendly receptionist, greets you as you push the door. The hotel looks new and very homey. 

Art looks at his computer screen and calls you by your first name. "I've been waiting for you! Were you lost?"

You just manage to smile, trying not to answer the question. Instead you ask him, "So where are the clubs?"

Eight hours after arriving at your hotel and  getting some well deserved sleep, you find yourself outside DJ Station on Soi 2 in Silom, a stone's throw away from Patpong - one of the craziest areas in Bangkok.

You pull your phone from your pocket. In it is your brand new Thai Sim Card. You dial your new friend's number. 

"Art, I'm already here!".

Ten hours after arriving in Bangkok, you find yourself partying with people from Brazil, Singapore, and Thailand - people you don't know. It is your birthday night and not a single soul  among them knows. Being in a foreign land on this special day may seem sad, but being around people you don't know and you probably won't meet again  lessens your inhibitions - back home, you work hard, but this night, in Crazy Bangkok, you will party harder. ●

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The Legend of the Flashpacker: Part 3 (You Call Yourself a Backpacker?)

BASED ON A TRUE STORY


Have you ever felt scammed after paying a humongous part of your savings for something you have always wanted to buy?

This is how you exactly feel now.

"You like to buy necklace or bracelet?," the 40-something female shop attendant asks you, while you grumpily wait and sit at the corner of the jewelry store your tour guide earlier described as an "antique jewelry museum".

You nod your head sideways and try to say NO but she has walked away towards a husband-and-wife team who happily agrees to check out some of the bling blings, the price of which is about twice or three times more than what you paid for this travel package.

You glance at your Mao Tse Tung watch, which you got for about $6 last night on Temple Street's night market. Your jaw drops. Your first HK purchase has stopped working. You need not check where the watch is manufactured. You know you are just about a 45-minute train ride away from Mainland China.

At last, you hear your tour guides, whose English names are Fiona and Apple, shouting "Ten more minutes!", with a thick Cantonese accent.

You close your eyes and wish that you'd be out of here by the time you open them. You take a deep breath. Disappointed, you grab your red backpack slouched on the floor.

Fiona comes up to you, "Everything okay?"

You only reply with a smile. Hastily, you walk towards the red exit door which looked like the gateway to heaven at this time.

Outside, the pack of cigarettes you just bought at 7-11 this morning falls to the pavement, as you reach into the backpack pocket looking for the Chinese lighter you bought too at Temple.

Apple from afar, with a folder in one hand and a HAPPY TOURIST TRAVEL banner in the other, waves at you. "Hurry hurry smoking!"

 Yeah, whatever.

You roll your eyes and turn around, only to see your tour bus almost three-quarters full. Retired teachers, honeymooners, recent college graduates. All busy with comparing their latest finds. Which are all way overpriced. And which are all available back home anyway.

A crowd with a big banner that spells  BITTERNESS walks past you.

You shake your head. You couldn't afford to hallucinate and faint in the middle of the tour.

Behind the glass window, a young lady who is already inside your HAPPY TOURIST TRAVEL tour bus signals you to hurry and points to Fiona and Apple, who are both impatiently waiting for you, with both hands on their waist.

You take a deep breath, for the nth time during this tour. You had to force yourself to even walk towards the bus.

You hear side comments in Cantonese from Fiona. Or it could be Apple. You ignore the gibberish, walk past your pretentious tour guides, and settle in the seat beside the lady who earlier called your attention.

She extends her hand to you, "Hi, I'm Phoebe!"

One, two, three seconds.

Okay, although you are already getting totally pissed at this tour, you try, "Hey."

The engine starts. The air-conditioner blasts again. Fiona and Apple are again talking to the rest of the tour group on their wireless microphones, trying to win everyone's hearts with their obviously scripted antics, to probably get a hefty tip by the time today's tour finishes, after which they'd go back to their own private lives somewhere in the twenty-story apartments in Sheung Wan.

Flipping through the pages of her Lonely Planet Hong Kong, your new friend Phoebe asks you, "First time in Hong Kong?"

Your friendly neighborhood tour guide Apple asks the group if we are hungry.

"Yeah. Bummer, right?"

She chuckles while highlighting something in her travel guide with a pink Stabilo marker, "So why did you even join the tour? I mean, this tour?"

Trying to sound smart, you immediately blurt out, "I'm just starting to backpack. You know, I'm a backpacker."

She laughs hysterically.

Everyone looks at the two of you. Embarrassed, both you and Phoebe look at Fiona and Apple, while trying to say sorry.

"What the... What's so funny about backpacking?", you ask Phoebe, while trying to suppress the sarcasm.

"So you claim to be a backpacker?". Phoebe closes her book.

"Uh, why are you asking?", you respond while scanning your printed tour itinerary, with the logo HAPPY TOURIST TRAVEL on top of the page.

You sense that this girl knows something about traveling. Why is she being nosy, just because you proudly claim to be a backpacker.

Phoebe looks out the window, "Buildings, buildings, and more buildings."

You ask Phoebe again, "Why are you interested in my being a backpacker ANYWAY?"

"Oh come on, are you kidding me?", she laughs again, "You are so not a backpacker. One, you had a big yellow suitcase yesterday."

"So... What's wrong with yellow?"

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong with yellow.  It's just that, uhm, let's just say, backpackers carry backpacks, yeah?"

It feels like someone just poured a pail of cold water over your head, with big blocks of ice. Why didn't you even think of that?

And she continues, "And two, no backpacker joins a tour like this!"

The bus stops at your next destination. This time, Fiona and Apple lead you to a restaurant where your next free meal will be served.

The travel agency advertised that this dinner will be a six-course meal.

All the tour group's members are seated in their assigned tables.

Everyone is disappointed.

Lying on the rotating table top are seven plates - one with rice and six others with all-vegetarian dishes.

So yesterday was a bad dream, with all the unnecessary trips to unnecessary shops which included one that tried to sell you kilograms of tea, after what was advertised as an authentic Chinese experience - a tea tasting ceremony. On top of that, your tiny windowless hotel room which almost resembles a prison cell has a one square meter shower-over-toilet bathroom. Yes, yeterday was a bad dream.

And today is becoming a nightmare.

You stand up, with your appetite all lost; you pick up your bag, walk up to your tour guides Fiona and Apple, and ask, "Can I NOT join the rest of the tour?"

You are so out of here. •