Journey into Siem Reap

Leaving Koh Chang

Our trip across the county from the island of Koh Chang into the western border of Cambodia was long, and I slept much of the way on the bus. As we approached the border, the bus stopped at a small kitchen/ shop beside the road. We'd already heard a lot of stories about how the drivers will try to con you out of money for a visa, and were wise to the act when our driver tried it on all of us. Though, not knowing the country very well doesn't exactly put you in great stead to just decide to go off-piste and rise above the corruption - even though you always like to think that you will, it's really not that easy when you're moored at the side of the road, arid landscape around you, and are not entirely sure where exactly the border office is...

Strangely enough however, Mat, having lived in Cambodia for 6 months over 10 years before, suddenly remembered a smattering of Khmer, and within minutes had worked his usual charm on our questionable driver.

"suasdey, sok sabai?" (basically, that's 'hello, how are you?' to those of you who don't speak the lingo).

Our driver raised an eyebrow - impressive, but I guess it's not exactly hard to learn a quick phrase on an 8 hour bus journey. "You speak Khmer?" he asked.

"Tik Tik" (a little) Mat said, a laugh spreading across his face, and the driver relaxed a little before wrapping his arm around Mat's back and leading him off, laughing as he quickly rapped Mat's other arm in approval. He selected us seats at a table a little further away from the others.

After that, we were were pretty much golden. Mat explained that we were travelling together (thank god, or else I'd be lumped in with everyone else, and probably dished out a whole lot more money for my ignorance) and that he used to live in Cambodia where he had got stranded after running out of cash. All the locals had been very kind to him, and he had learnt some Khmer during his experience. It seems like an obvious statement, but the locals really appreciate it when you learn some of the language - the extra effort makes a massive difference, and this was something which showed to be true throughout my trip.

In the end, we decided we didn't mind paying the extra couple of dollars to the man: it wasn't much to us, and to him it would mean a lot more. Plus, having warmed to Mat, he was giving us special treatment, and we'd take any friendliness (feigned or not) in such an alien landscape. We got back on the bus and at the border the bus stopped again. We all filed out, many of the locals who were hitching a ride ambled off by themselves, and then the driver and his colleague rounded all the westerners up:

"All of you come this way" he said, and then pointed to Mat and myself and mumbled something to his colleague who walked over to us.

"You go that way"- indicating a busy street to the left -"follow that man with the plastic bag".

Great, I thought, that doesn't sound dodgy at all. Mat just shrugged and made to follow the man.

"The man with the bag?!" I hissed at him. "What the fuck are we doing? Does that man even know we're following him? He hasn't stopped to look back once. Is this actually fine?".

The other Westerners looked over at us with knowing looks. Wherever we were going, they knew they were definitely about to be taken for a ride if Mat's party had been sent elsewhere. That, at least comforted me a little.

We followed the guy for about 5 minutes, during which a second man with a plastic bag crossed our path, and then we lost the first. Feeling a little lurched, we looked about for where it was exactly we were supposed to be going, and some helpful locals shouted "GO OVER THERE" at the side of our faces. All very alarming, but we found the border office thanks to their direction.

Having queued, been met with a stony glare from the border official who asked without a trace of a smile why I hadn't bothered to keep my passport in better condition and then stamped me through, the same cold expression on his face. Mat had given him a quick Khmer greeting and he had said nothing to Mat's passport with the massive coffee stain across all the central pages. Really?? REALLY??

To say we were all stressed by the time we got back on the bus would be an understatement. Though I did feel worse for everyone else, having been dragged through some government building and coaxed into exchanging money at steep rates. They got back on the bus 15 minutes after us and looked particularly disgruntled.

By reputation, Cambodia is a corrupt country, so it would be silly to expect not to encounter any of it whilst we were there. Mat and I were lucky with the bus driver. Sadly, once we reached Siem Reap, the bus stopped again about 3 miles out of the city and dropped everyone at a rundown-looking storage unit, where a number of tuk-tuk drivers waited, and it was more of the same again...

We were told that they had to stop here, so we should get a tuk-tuk into town and that it would be free as we'd already paid for the journey into Siem Reap. Of course, this is not what transpired after we'd sat in the tuk-tuk. The driver told us if we could only pay him some money, then it would mean he could get paid too, because he was doing this for free. We didn't buy that and flat-out refused to pay another £5 for this. He begrudgingly accepted this and drove 5 miles an hour all the way into Siem Reap, dropped us at the furthest point away from The White Rabbit hostel, and by the time we eventually reached it on foot (thank FUCK for Google Maps) about half an hour later, completely drenched in sweat, I'd never been happier to see the cool, shimmering surface of the hostel swimming pool, rippling quietly in the centre of the hostel compound. We collected our room keys, set down our bags beside our bunks, ran back down the stairs and slipped into the rippling water of the pool. Nothing has ever felt better than that feeling of the cold water against my skin after the anxiety of that day.

The White Rabbit Hostel, my coffee by the pool the following morning.