Sihanoukville Travel Blog› entry 46 of 100 › view all entries
Two months in
In Trat, I caught a minibus to the border and a boat to town. I hadnâ€™t got an alarm clock and it took all my ingenuity to get up in time for this bus: I forced a coke and half a bottle of water down me before bed, and woke up at desperate for a piss. Brilliant, eh? I got the idea from Bart Simpson.
Arrived at the border just after it opened, to scenes of general chaos. People lugged produce everywhere as I got stamped out of
A moto is just a motorcycle taxi, and my moto driver ushered me onto his bike. Iâ€™d never ridden a motorbike before. We stopped at a money changer who sold me seventy thousand Cambodian rials for a thousand Baht: barely half what I was owed. My own silly fault for not checking the exchange rate. Spent twenty more dollars on a ticket for the boat to Sihanoukville, and we left pretty much on time.
Even though Iâ€™d somehow bagged an extra legroom seat, this boat ride was pretty crap. A long covered boat designed for sailing on calm lakes, full of aeroplane-style seats with only a couple of exits; a lot of people are going to die sooner or later when one of those goes down. There was nothing to see from the window but low, scrubby jungle a few hundred yards away, and the
After four hours we arrived in the Sihanoukville, and I showed my passport one more time before striking off into town. Except there was no town. Everything in Sihanoukville is miles from everything else. A moto driver took me Occheutal beach, dropping me at a place where he was very keen for me to take a room. No ta. The place next door cost twenty dollars a night so I walked on, pestered by touts every step of the way.
After quite a while, I found a bar/restaurant place with a little hut, right on the beach. Theyâ€™d give me free accommodation if I ate my meals there, and that was fine by me. Had lunch and a bottle or two of yet another good Asian beer:
I had an engagement that night: meeting Travbuddy mainstay Deats, who I already knew off a certain messageboard where he likes to spend his time shooting his mouth off and abusing Irish Man Utd fans. I turned up at the open-air bar where weâ€™d arranged to meet but I couldnâ€™t see anyone who looked like his picture and I was too cowardly to go round asking. Oh well. Stayed there all night anyway.