The a/c worked well and the seats, although a bit cramped, were okay. I always manage to get a seat that won’t recline – halfway, Ian switched spots with me but when I reclined, the seat pretty well landed in the young woman’s lap behind me. I was most embarrassed but it was one way to make a friend. The bus broke down twice on route. I think it blew a suspension balloon or something from hitting the massive potholes in the road. This seems to be a common occurrence as none of the locals were surprised. The driver and bus helper grabbed some tools, took off their dress shirts and got to work fixing it. Everyone piled out of the bus to stand in the shade.
We made a scheduled pit stop with the most disgusting bathrooms yet and many of the passengers grabbed some food here. Ian had some hot noodle soup with who knows what in it. I skipped lunch.
The trip took longer than expected but we managed to get into Battambang late afternoon. As the bus slowed down for the drop off point, tuk tuk drivers ran forward with signs for various hotels pressed against the bus windows. Voices shouted out as they jostled for our attention. I had never seen anything like it. My friend behind tapped me on the shoulder and said “Battambang” so Ian and I gathered our things and exited. As soon as we stepped off that bus, we were swarmed by drivers. We tried ignoring them but the signs in our face and bodies in our personal space made it impossible. I put up my hands and said calmly, “you are really stressing me out right now” but they persisted. Ian looked at one of the drivers and asked if he knew where Au Cabaret Vert was – he did. Ian asked how much and he said “2000 riel.” 50 cents! Unbelievable. So needless to say he was hired. Once we made that decision the drivers disappeared. It was amazing.
We got our bags and moved to the tuk tuk. Ian’s cheap flip flops broke on route and that’s when I realized we’d left his two new pairs on the bus! As he ran back barefoot to retrieve them, I told the driver how stressful I had found our bus exit with everyone yelling in my face. His name was Souren and he explained that with so little tourism in Battambang, everyone was desperate for the opportunity for work. This I understood but it still didn’t make the experience any easier. Souren explained that the reason he was only asking for 2000 riel was he hoped for our business during our stay there. His English was very good.
Battambang is the second largest city in Cambodia but you’d never know it. It’s very quiet with little traffic. The river Sangker flows through the town but its dry season now so it was fairly low. There are some pretty colonial buildings behind walled compounds that seem to be government buildings and few shops and open air restaurants lining the narrow streets. Tourists don’t come to Battambang for the city but for the countryside.
Our accommodation was on the edge of town: 6 individual bungalows set behind a large building with the reception, bar, restaurant and owner’s home. We were met by the manager in training who spoke okay English. We received cool towels and welcome cocktails. The place is owned by a Cambodian woman and her French husband whom we met later – a gregarious happy guy.
The place was super quiet - hard to believe there was a busy road out front. Our bungalow was nice with a/c and fan, screened windows which were a treat, TV, and bathroom with shower. The bed was super hard. Ian and I often wonder why they can’t make soft beds in Asia. There was a pool naturally filtered by plants which I thought was very cool. The owner explained to me that this was quite popular in Europe. It can take a couple of months to get the right balance and it needs to be carefully checked every day to make sure the pool is okay for swimming. I was surprised that it took so few plants to filter the pool. There were also a few minnows and small fish swimming about.
We decided to just eat at the restaurant for dinner and ordered Chicken Cordon Bleu which I am sad to say was just average - especially for a French restaurant. The food prices were expensive compared to all the other places we had eaten, especially for the quality of food we received. Our evening was trying to watch TV on the tiny screen back in our bungalow.
The next morning, we had trouble with the shower. There were two handles and two showerheads, one with a rainhead. It took us awhile to figure things out but eventually we realized that the rainhead only has cold water while the showerhead worked from the heater attached to the wall. Breakfast was a baguette, fruit salad, coffee or tea, and eggs. Everything else, juice included, was extra. We dropped off a huge bag of laundry – it was $1/kg which was a great price and then discussed what we were going to do that day.
We decided to head into town to the museum and take a walk around. A tuk tuk driver was called and off we went. It turned out that we weren’t that far from the town. The museum was closed (story of our life when it comes to museums!) but would be open at 2pm. Our walk around town was fairly uneventful. There isn’t much to see – it’s so quiet; but it was easy to walk with little traffic.
We had lunch at a Khmer restaurant and my meal was a bit bland – fried noodles with chicken. Cambodians don’t use a lot of spice. We then went for a coffee at Geckos. This was a lovely corner restaurant on the second floor with a large open verandah to sit. You were given a small card introducing your server and the chefs and then a larger card with descriptions. Servers were mostly 18 to 21 years old and sending most of their salaries home to their parents while supporting themselves through school; great way to help tourists understand how tough life is for some of these kids (Ian and I always tip our servers). It started to rain so we waited till the worst was over and then walked back to the museum which was now open.
It proved to be very tiny and not well designed. There was a hodge podge of Ankgorian- era artefacts and sandstone carvings dating from the 11 th C up to the 20th C.
The requisite Buddha images were also there. It took me all of 2 minutes to walk through and Ian took maybe 10. We decided to walk back to the hotel which took no time at all. The weather was quite splendid really – maybe 30 degrees with an occasional breeze. Of course after it rained it got muggy but as the sun set, it cooled off.
For dinner we took a tuk tuk to La Villa, a 9 room hotel and restaurant on the other side of the river. The setting was lovely: an inner courtyard with intimate tables and candles. I had high hopes for my meal. I ordered fish and lemon sauce and Ian had pasta. Ian’s meal was decent but mine was not very good. The fish was fishy tasting (which you never want with fish) and drowned in a thick bland sauce.
The next day we were picked up by Souren (the fellow who picked us up at the bus) at 10am for a tuk tuk ride into the country. We negotiated a price of 20 dollars for the full day. Souren’s English was fantastic so he could also act as a guide. We headed out of the city on a narrow paved road that quickly turned into a red dirt road hemmed in with trees.
We passed different homes: some were wooden while others had walls made of rice straw. Almost all the houses were raised with hammocks tied underneath. This home is one of the fancier ones. You can see a small red spirit house in the front and bikes parked underneath. Most homes have hammocks hanging there.
Cows stood lazily on the side of the road chewing grass and children waved and shouted hello as we drove past. Our first stop was to observe the making of bamboo cake under a thatched roof alongside the road.
This is where women make the cake, all day long, sitting on the floor or squatting, in the heat; long days.
Souren explained that the Cambodian people use everything and nothing goes to waste. Bamboo takes 10 – 12 months to grow and is used for scaffolding, bowls, weaving, furniture, etc. Bamboo cake is for special occasions. Salt, coconut, sugar, and red beans are added to glutinous rice and then inserted into the bamboo. It is covered with banana leaves and left in the oven for 3 hours. The oven is fuelled with the coconut husks left over from the coconut that was added earlier. As the cake cooks, the bamboo becomes black from the smoke so the outside is cut off to make it more aesthetically appealing and easier to handle. You eat straight out of the bamboo.
We purchased a bamboo cake for $1 and headed to our next stop to see how fish paste was made. Almost all Khmer food uses fish paste. The tuk tuk crossed a bridge over a wide muddy river to a covered area housing the fish paste. The smell was strong but not as bad as I had imagined it would be. Fishing takes place mostly in the spring months and none of the fish is wasted. Fins and tails are dried and ground into food for pigs, chickens and ducks. Bones are also ground into a paste for dog and cat food. Women were hired to debone the fish before placing it into large bins with salt where it would sit for 3 – 4 months. It doesn’t look overly hygienic sitting on the floor but I suppose the salt kills everything nasty.
Souren pointed out different kinds of fish as Tonle Lake holds 87 species of fish. This fish was salmon-like in colour and can be salted into paste or dried. As you can see, fish is laid out on bamboo mats in the sun for drying.
Barbeque fish is also popular and takes an entire day to cook. This fish is often cut up for mango salad.
It was quite a large area to explore and everyone was busy working. Women squatted on the cement floor to debone fish and men shovelled fish into barrels. Next, we drove down a bumpy road with several large holes in our way, and at one point, we got stuck in the mud. Ian got out and pushed and surprisingly managed not to get any dirt on his shoes. Rice paddies stretched out on other side and a bamboo dam used to catch small fish and crabs was our stop.
Souren said that there had been three floods the past year so farmers were just now getting their rice fields sorted out. Ian asked if the Cambodian government helped people during these crisis situations and Souren said that much money had been given to flood victims. I asked him how farmers managed without crops and he said that farmers are very self-sufficient keeping chickens, pigs, ducks, cows and vegetable gardens. He explained that they could also fish in the streams and rivers that flow through Cambodia and were quite happy to be farmers able to live by their own abilities.
Our next stop was an old temple called Wat Ek Phnom. As we approached we could see the head of a Buddha image towering over the trees. It was only 5 years old and sat next to a very colourful temple with paintings on the walls and ceilings. I read that the government had stopped building the temple because they felt it was destroying the natural beauty of Ek Phnom (I suspect they ran out of money).
Entrance was only a $1 and as we walked, an old woman and her two little boys joined us. She pointed to things speaking in Cambodian – I guess this was her way of making money. Ian gave her a wee bit of change early on and off she went, leaving her small boys. They followed us around, repeatedly saying hello and some phrase in Cambodian (maybe asking for money?). There was only one other person visiting the site.
Behind the temple were the 11th century Angkorian ruins of Ek Phnom. To see it, you had to climb some rocks to get to the site. At this point, I was feeling rather poorly (coming down with a cold) so Ian went on without me and took some nice photos.
I found a bench in the shade at the side of a small pond and was amazed at the amount of butterflies and monitor lizards I saw. I was quite happy to sit there quietly and a bit disappointed when three rather scruffy looking girls interrupted my peace. Unfortunately I’ve grown a bit sceptical here. Little kids are used all the time in Cambodia – carrying boxes hanging from ropes around their necks with bracelets or postcards for sale, or worse, dragging their younger sibling along by the arm and outright begging. By giving money, you perpetuate things but you can’t help but feel sorry for them. Worse are the mothers with babes in arms pinching their legs to make them cry as you pass. Many disabled beg – and often we will give them money; but they forget that and will end up approaching you again and again – even right up to your table in a restaurant.
The girls began chatting with me in English, asking my name and where I was from – and for awhile there, I thought maybe I was wrong; maybe they were just curious friendly girls. I engaged and asked them questions in return. They offered me some apple, which I declined. Once they finished eating that though their faces became very sad and they rubbed their stomachs. Here came the request for money. I shook my head, disappointed, saying I had no money. They kept pestering me so I took out my wallet and showed them, saying my husband had it all and they took off running to find Ian.
I walked around the front and there was Ian. Luckily the girls had gone a different way. The two little boys were playing close by, throwing rocks from this ancient temple at each other.
This has taken me forever to upload these photos and I have more to show you so I'm going to break this up into two blogs.....
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