Being a free man I decided it was about time I vacated the city and headed to the provincial south where beaches are aplenty and life runs at a slow pace.
I first landed at Kampot,which was a first for me,and knew that the place is famed for its pepper,which was on all the best Parisien resturant tables 50 years ago,and the old disused casino up on Bokor Mountain which is featured extensively in the film "City of Ghosts".After the usual frenetic bus journey,I made a beeline for an eatery of some sort,and slumped down at the "Rusty Keyhole" a marvellous old colonial building that is run by a fellow called Kristian.I ordered fried shrimp with Kampot pepper,and was blown away.Being a seafood lover I knew I would enjoy the food here,and this was a great start.
Having found an unassuming little place to stay,I wondered what to do for the remaining hours of daylight and decided on a trip up the River Preak Chha up to the Gulf of Thailand.Armed with our speedos we left at about 3p.m.,a fairly motley bunch I must say.I was the youngest traveller on the pirogue,consisting of three elderly French retirees who liked to sing,an ex London policeman of thirty years and an old German hippie who kept dropping his binoculars.I think the two young Khmer kids who escorted us out wondered what they'd got themselves into,but seemed as cheerful and courteous as ever.
After the dusty bus trip it was bliss gently chugging upriver watching women wash clothes,monks studying on the bank and fishermen preparing for the evening catch.I tried to ignore the rantings of PC Plod from London town who couldn't stop yapping and had an obsession with the price of things.Not only that,but he also confirmed the American stereotype of Brits dentistry work,owning a pair of gnashers that were a cross between Ken Dodd and Count Dracula.
Having passed the mangrove swamps we reached the Gulf of Thailand and dropped anchor,with yours truly constantly banging his head on the small thatched roof of the boat.We were encouraged to swim and the two boatmen put on their life jackets....not alarming as this is de rigeur in Cambodia as Khmers are not the greatest swimmers.However what was strange occurred when one of the guys clambered out of the boat,and instead of treading water stood up in about a metre of water!We were in the middle of an ocean,a small one admittedly,but an ocean all the same,so it was a good job I hadn't dived in as I planned to,otherwise I might now be wearing a neck brace.I actually waded over to the only other vessel in sight to say hello to another small group of river people.We headed back at sunset watching fleets of old fishing barges head out to sea,up to four at a time all joined together steered by one operator,and the city felt out of my system.
Back on terra firma I had a pleasant evening on the riverside and met up with a couple of the river people I had chatted to earlier.Unfortunately,one of the perils of eating seafood is bacteria who enjoy nothing more than exploring your stomach and gut,so that night I said hello to Huey and Ralph.The following morning I got a later start than I wanted due to the nights events,and I held back on my plans to rent a bike.Instead,after a very light breakfast,I gingerly walked around town,and felt like I was on a movie set at times.There are numerous examples of the fabulous French colonial buildings still standing in Kampot,and although faded,peeling and generally a bit delapidated are aesthetically pleasing.Together with the 30 degree heat I could have been in a small French town in the south in summer.
Later that day I did rent a bike and headed out to who knows where,taking my time and waving back at the kids who appear from nowhere and delight in bellowing "HELLO!!"at you.
The next day I took off for Kep,which I have been to before,on the back of a moto.Being a Saturday it took a while to find a room,and even my Belgian friend Stephane,whom I used to work with,couldn't help me out."Why didn't you phone?"......
I lucked out and found a bed at the wonderfully monikered "Kukuluku"and was very pleasantly surprised.The room was basic,but I'm not Barry Malone and don't care about that,but what I did have was my own private beach,so still feeling a bit iffy after the bacteria inccident,I sat for a few hours having drinks brought,and reading a very good travel book called "The River's Tale"by Edward.A.Gargan about a former New York Times journalists trip from the source of the Mekong in Tibet,to it's end at the South China Sea on the Vietnamese coast.Written ten years ago,there is a lot that is familiar,but also it is really illuminating to see what can change in this amount of time.
I wandered down to the beach at Kep and ate at the crab shacks and again feasted on cracked crab with Kampot pepper,which melted in the mouth.I was determined not to let a few bugs hamper my enjoyment.Kep is a small place and having arranged a trip to a remote island the following day,at a very good rate,I was frequently asked about this and managed to meet the extended family of Mr.Preoun who was taking me,and was told "Oh I am his brother/cousin/nephew".They seem to be the family in charge in Kep.
Rabbit Island was amazing,although a couple of new shacks have gone up,so development is moving fast.I was speaking to a young fisherman on the island who was proudly showing me his catch of crabs,who said to me,
"I'm opening a restaurant here"
"When?"I enquired
"Two years"was the answer.
So,if you happen to visit Rabbit Island,about 30 minutes out from Kep in 2 years time a new place awaits.I made do with stir fried shrimp.
Kep is changing though,and even in the nine months since I was last there I noticed many new additions,guest houses and development,some of it good,some bad.It's still sleepy though and you can lose yourself quite easily,both geographically and mentally.
Back to Phnom Penh on the Monday,with a salty glow,sunburnt and exercised on a bus sat next to the rudest man ever created who seemed to have no worries about digging me in the ribs regularly,and leaning right across me shutting the window,when the bus had no A/C without enquiring and dozing on my shoulder.He was French,and I returned to my thoughts about confirming stereotypes.I'll be off somewhere again soon.