"I no hassle you. I promise."

We took the "Mekong Express" bus to Phnom Penh then on to Siam Reap. It was an all-day affair but one made more comfortable in that this bus had air-con and a bathroom. We were told the touts at Siem Reap were laid back due to their more 'provincial upbringing.' Ha! As soon as we stopped, it was the closest thing to being a rock star without having a stalker and death threats. Well, a couple were like stalkers as they followed us almost the whole way to the hotel. We broke through the impenatrable wall of shouting and people holding signs reading, "I no hassle you. I promise" and walked towards our hotel.



Siem Reap is the main place people go to when they go to Cambodia as it's all about Angkor Wat and the ruins. Built in the 11-13th centuries, the ruins are less impressive for their age than they are for their craftsmanship and scale -- some believe Angkor Wat temple is the largest religious structure on earth and the rest of the colossal ruins stretch over a swath of land that covers nearly half the country. It would be an unfathomable achievement if it hadn't been done. And, at the time, it taxed the empire's finances and labor so greatly, it arguably contributed to its demise.

The first two days we visited most of the major sites by bicycle, and were pretty exhausted by even the end of the first day. The next day we wanted to tour some of the less visited sites and so took a magnificent little 'jaunt' through the dirt backroads to the Rolous Group of Temples and the Bakong. From there, it was an exhausting 16km ride on dirt roads through middle-of-the-day heat to Phnom Bok (PHNOM-BOW) which climbed (as did we) 200 meters high. At the top, the temple was complete with rusting artillery cannons left over from the Khmer Rouge sitting on the north and south corners. (The Khmers were also involved with the Bauphon, which had meticulously been taken apart by the French for restoration, but the plans were destroyed during the regime, leaving only a giant jigsaw puzzle of sandstone).
And we did the old standbys, Ta Prohm - the temple swallowed by the jungle and left 'in tact' with 100 year old trees still alive and well, having dislodged giant stones and now towering 100 feet above; The Bayon -- which in addition to boring reliefs of war and conquest, had amazing scenes offering glimpses into everyday life, including women picking lice from each others' hair and circuses, complete with tightrope walkers and a strong man lifting three dwarfs (or little people as they might have been called back then). And of course there was Angkor Wat, with its 'ungodly' size and epic bas reliefs of its own, including our favorite, "The Churning of the Ocean of Milk" -- which sounds disgusting but was really an important legend of good versus evil as demons battled in a tug of war, pulling a giant serpent back and forth inside the ocean in order to extract its elixir of immortality. The gods won because the demons couldn't resist the heavenly female nymphs floating above. Ahhhhh....


Ta Som, Preah Neak Pean, The Bakong, Banteay Samre are just a few of the others, which we think, in the end, totalled like 30 temples we were able to see in 3 days. Sounds boring right? To be honest, even we didn't know what to think after seeing everything (and we had still only scratched the surface). But we did know we left Siam Reap with feelings of deep respect and privilidge for something that was as close to greatness as it gets. 

We decided to not tour Eastern Cambodia and go straight to Laos -- which meant taking a flight (which doesn't count on our "Teak Fellowship" mile total). Sarah was getting sick and we'd also save three valuable days. Plus, we didn't exactly relish taking a tough overland route again, especially through Phnom Penh! So we landed in Pakse, in the southwest of Laos (pronounced in the singular 'LAO' we were told). While Sarah was getting over some crazy bronchial infection and taking anti-biotics we've have yet to use ever since we left 8 months ago, (CIPRO), we decided a perfect remedy would be a 4-day, dusty, backroad route through remote parts of south and eastern Laos via moto-bike! It wasn't all what you'd think. The first two days, we stayed in a bungalow overlooking (and overhearing!) a big, soothing waterfall right below us at Tad Lo. Sarah had the best sleep of her life.

The next day, we rode the 67 year-old female elephant, "Moon." (life span we were told was about 150 years for an Asian Elephant). Laos' original name was Lang Xang, Land of a "Million Elephants" which are these days down to a couple of thousand -- some working elephants still on the farms and some wild. Moon ate about 200 kilos of leaves a day and took a bath in the river. After this wonderful experience, Sarah was seriously considering giving up art and design to be an elephant trainer.

Then it was off to Sekong, where we tried to get gas from the station but the power was out in the whole city and the pumps wouldn't work, so we had to settle for roadside assistance -- Fanta or Mirinda bottles full of red liquid gasoline sitting on little shelves. Andy almost mistakenly bought one to drink!

Somehow we made the 32km detour on dirt road to see the angelic waterfall "Nam Toc Katamtoc" in the Bolaven Plateau, turned around, and screamed toward Attapeu, trying to make it before dark. There's not much to see in Attapeu, it's pretty desolate. As was Pa-am, save for a giant, aging Russian Surface-to-Air Missle sitting on the old Ho Chi Minh trail we had to wade across a river to see. And, plus, the people in the village really didn't really like us or want us there. No love. . . no love. Although two guys nearby sympathized with Sarah when she fell right through a bridge of poor construction and banged her knee and ripped the knee out of her one pair of jeans. They tried to help Andy help her up and talked and waved their arms as if to say, "Ah, this bridge... they can't ever make anything right," and started to readjust the planks of wood over the gaping holes.

At that point, we left screaming on a backtrack all the way north and west, this time to the coffee-growing town on top of the Bolaven Plateau (with drastically dropping temperatures to match) named Paksong, and the little waterfall town of Tad Fane, with a not-so-little waterfall. Again, we arrived just in time before dark. The waterfall was spectacular and much easier to get to than "Nam Toc Katamtoc," which we never would have found anyway were it not for a kind family in the hills.

The next day, after eating an entire Papaya that the girl cut up for us on the spot, we made it back to Pakse, and decided we'd come this far, why not just go ahead and go up to Vientiane tonight? There was an overnight bus, they call "VIP: The Big Bus" and it didn't disappoint. At 8:30 pm, an absolute monstrosity pulled around the corner straight out of "Tron." An entire double-decker warmly bathed in the soothing aura of neon and black-light --- even the engine was lit up when they opened the flap.

Luckily the Karaoke on the flat screens inside (and inside the driver's cabin) ended at a reasonable hour, but it was as cold as the dickens and the seat space was about 20 per cent vertical and 80 per cent horizontal. Just plain strange! We were on the lower level. You had to duck your head all the way to the restroom on board and there were about 30 people above us.

But we made it to Vientiane in a hurry at 6am, sunrise. After a couple of days of Sarah recovering as best she can (she may even be perfecting how to spit!), we plan to go up to Vang Vien, then Luang Prabang, and then across the Thai border. Should we go to the 'Plain of Jars?' Thanks for all the replies. It's good to hear from everyone in these strange, strange times of continual upheaval combined with exhilirating delight, which seem to be our only constants.

A letter from home

Our thoughts always go back to our trip to Vietnam. I tell people we could never have imagined how amazing the trip was to be. I still see your faces smiling at Hanoi airport. Who would have thought we would be reunited in such a distant place. One day soon I will write about our adventures. I feel privileged that we were able to experience the Vietnamese culture so closely. Andy's Vietnamese certainly helped us - who would have known green dragon fruit is the best. Remember the delicious grilled fish dishes - wrapped in leaves - cilantro - morning glory greens - those wonderful local dishes on the waterfront in Hoi An. People shouting "hello" as we cycled through the rice paddies. The silhouette of the children, fisherman walking along the dyke when we were on our tour of the floating city with the hills protruding like a landscape from another planet behind them. The old lady almost bowing gesturing to us to join her in the church, such a spiritual event.
Following Andy on bikes for the first time in over ten years as we cycled out of Ninh Binh into the countryside. Stopping for that oh so wonderful icecream or bottle of water. Feeling warm all the time. Being able to carry your possessions on your back. Riding the bus with the locals through little villages with the factories that will change their life forever looming up. The challenges of travelling when things do not quite go as you planned but it is fine because actually things work out better than you expected. Traveling by overnight bus and train comfortably - Dad has since said he has always wanted to go by overnight train although he thinks he prefers the bus because you see more of the countryside - if it is a comfortable bus that is. Travelling with our daughter and son-in-law - as family and best friends. Knowing that there are difficult times at times when we all have opinions but making that turn around to making things successful. Accepting that being bothered by touts is a game we must play - not a Western culture event but very much part of most of the rest of the world as you have discovered. Riding on the moto-bike not done since we were very young but still the same buzz as then - bodies tight, leaning in to the bend up hill and down. Getting soaking wet but feeling warm. Shopping in the market with you, buying lovely things while the boys hung out. Wishing Sophie were there but knowing she would understand our experiences because she had been to Asia. Such images....

For you two at times things must be tough. But your experience and knowledge of these different cultures will always be with you to look back on and say we did it! Thanks for everything you did for us in Vietnam, the planning, Andy always finding water for us, the relish with which you taste and experience the cuisine and bia hoi, Sarah the kind way you relate to the people, your walking tours and on and on...

And you guys have experienced so much, so many different cultures and countries, so many stories. Now yes you can feel time slipping by but remember you still have a third of this big trip to go. I want to hear all about Laos, Thailand, India, Pakistan. And I am sure you will have adventures here in Western Canada to look forward to.

Let me know if you need more malaria pills or anything else. Take care, we are just sipping a Vietnamese coffee - quite wonderful.

Love Mom

PS Did you get to ride elephants?!

decompress

We arrived in Sihanoukville at nightfall and took a few days to decompress. There are nice beaches but not as many as you'd think. We just spent the time swimming, reading and writing. The snorkeling is somewhat unspectacular as the area has been overfished by dynamite. But it is a beautiful setting with lovely, unusual sunsets.

We took a day out and decided to head east to Kampot and Kep, the old French Colonial Towns that there wasn't much left of anymore, but ride was pretty wonderful. With Andy driving and Sarah on back, we took off helmet-less (the Cambodian way) up Highway 4 turning East on Highway 3. In the distance we see the huge lurking figure of Bokor 'Hill,' an enormous plateau 1000+ meters high stretching miles and miles in every direction, consisting of a National Park and the French Ghost town at the Hill Station with shells of hotels and casinos and water towers still standing. We had heard you could get up there and thought it might be an interesting detour.


But first we had to get through the dust choking roads and unstable rocky layout to Kampot. After holding our breath and protecting our eyes as much as possible, we made the 3-hour trip without incident, and saw some amazing scenery along the way, with kids (and adults) greeting us with hearty "Hello(s)!" the entire way. This time we treated ourselves to hot water and air conditioning and did something a little different -- sat in our room and watched HBO, one cheesy movie after another and did absolutely nothing except eat grilled chicken and frog.

After checking out the surreal little seaside town of Kep the next day, we came back through Kampot and found the entrace to Bokor Hill. It was 12pm and we learned that it would take 3 hours to come up and 2 hours to come down and the sun set at 5:30pm. And the entire 30km road up was in disarray. 4x4's or mountain bikes are recommended, but moto-bikes have made the trip. Andy asked the woman taking the $5 for the 'privilige' of using the road if we could do it on our little moto-bike. She turns to some old man sleeping in a hammock in the other building. He says something back and she tells Andy, yeah you could do it. After much internal debate we decided to go for it and just stay up on the mountain for the night. The woman said there was a ranger station and that we could find good "Thai noodles" up there.

We knew the road was bad but didn't realize just how bad. It was pretty much intense concentration for not 3, but 4+ hours just keeping the bike from falling over through big stones, dirt gullies, little stones and the worst -- miles and miles of medium-sized stones stretching end to end that simply ate tires up and felt like a hand was reaching over and trying to pull the bike down. At 4:30 pm and pretty exhausted, we saw the glorious sight of hulking old buildings on the horizon -- Bokor Hill Station. Before we checked in, Andy noticed another problem, we had used so much gas struggling to the top, we only had a little over 1/4 of a tank of fuel left. Surely they would sell fuel there, right? Anywhere there's a way to make a dollar, they're there.

We checked in at the Ranger's, got supplies for an immediate picnic stat! (we hadn't had any food since 9am) and set out to watch the sunset from the shell of the old Palace Hotel -- a glorious structure built by the French in 1908, briefly used by the Khmer Rouge as a hideout, and now a ghost of its former self, covered with brightly-colored orange moss, with glass shards and original French tiles scattered about. On the middle terrace of the grand structure at the edge of the plateau, we watched an almost indescribable sunset over the horizon in the distance 1000+ meters below. Enormous grey clouds gently wafted right over our heads like an giant, abducting spaceship. You better believe that drive was worth it, but next time we might hop in the back of a truck!

When we got back to the Ranger station, we found out, amazingly, that they did NOT sell fuel. A couple of the Ranger guys looked at the gauge and said that we could still make it down as it takes much less fuel. We guessed we really didn't have a choice!


The next morning we ate the 'thai noodles' which were really just a dyhadrated cup of Nissin. We decided before we left to hike to the waterfall, which ended up being a disappointing trickle. We wondered how it could be the gusher all the books were talking about because we were already on top of the giant plateau. Where exactly was the river coming from? The main story though was Sarah who, wearing flip flops, somehow got stung by a giant black ant on her foot. It really smarted, and she was writhing in pain for a few minutes collapsed to the ground almost on the verge of tears. Andy thought if she passed out or something, he might have to carry her or run back the 6 miles to get help. Luckily, it retreated to simply a big red welt and she was able to hike on and not even notice it for the rest of the day, but it was a real scare for a few minutes. We hoped this wasn't a bad omen for the ride down!
Actually, the ride down turned out to be much easier (relatively speaking) than going up. It was the same road but it seemed as if the rocks were bouncing off a little more gently, the road falling a little more easily in our direction. That said, it was still a ride from hell that lasted well over 2 hours, took the life of a disfigured the right brake pedal, and after the pounding our bodies took the day before, just seemed like it would never end. At about 2pm, we emerged from the park, saw the same non-plussed lady from the day before and went on. We did manage to convince a couple of locals to try to bend back the brake pedal to its original position, but it was still pretty messed up. We got plenty of gas and made it back to Sihanoukville a day late, but in fine fashion, and well before sunset (You don't want to be on those roads at night). Luckily the renter never discovered the cosmetic damage to the brake and took the best $12 we ever spent for four days.



A couple of more days and then we're on to Angkor Wat, then either Northeastern Cambodia or directly to Laos. See? We don't have EVERYTHING planned out. Sometimes we even make it up as we go along!



Thanks: to everyone who is still following along and enjoying the details. And thanks to everyone who is replying to the blog. We really love hearing from you, as many times, the only other friends we find ourselves having is subtitled HBO! We miss you.