I was not confident on the capabilities of my bus from Phnom Penh to Siem Reap on account of a little matter that prior to boarding, around five motorcycles were carried off, along with several sacks of rice grain. No people were on the bus at all and half the bags had split wide open. I had my doubts whether this rickety machine could keep one man and his rather large bag in tact.
As I clambered over the bare feet of the various comfortable Japanese tourists, I found that my seat on the bus was badly broken and in a permanent state of recline. I'm as laid back as they come, but not for such a duration of a trip and with everyone packed like sardines in a crushed tin can, I couldn't easily swap. The good news was that the bus had light entertainment for all passengers for the course of the journey (apparently this is why this VIP bus cost $1 more than the budget alternative) . However, I'm not sure that a ten inch black and white television mounted on the front showing 'Baby's Day Out' dubbed in Cambodian, constitutes light entertainment. Cracking film by the way, the toddler reminds me of a young Kevin McAllister. They have a similar mischievous grin and the only difference between the two for me is that the child had no bird lady to dig him out of trouble.
Some six, bumpy, bottom-tearing and tiring hours later, the bus wheezed and choked to an uncomfortable halt at Siem Reap, like an asthmatic pensioner drawing his last breath before dying in the arms of his nursing home carer. It's a pretty little City, the French influence painted liberally on their numerous winding boulevards and dusty markets. Siem Reap is also home to the great Temples of Angkor (namely Angkor Wat and Angkor Thom) located just seven km away from the City Centre.
As most travellers do, I took an early morning trip to the Temples, accompanied by my new hired moto driver, who I shall name as Chuy, due to his resemblance to the character of the same name in Alfonso Cuarón's poignant film, Y Tu Mamá También. Chuy is a quiet and noble driver and as he knew no English, or indeed any verbal skills at all, we communicated solely via a thumbs up or a thumbs down for the entire day. This worked so well that I am thinking of introducing this primitive rule if and when I return back to England. Chuy, being a dear man, spent the majority of the early Morning consoling my newly wounded heart. My digital camera screen had broken (not surprisingly whilst within my rucksack on the horror bus) and I just couldn't hold the tears back.
As such, all the numerous and amusing photographs of me with all my new found friends will not be uploaded any time soon. OK, so there was only one photo I had to upload, and that was of myself and the laundrette ladies all with my freshly clean underwear on our heads, but we were all having a swell time.
I'm going to spend the rest of this afternoon at the roof top gym at the Guest House. I need to hide the evidence of yesterday's mess where I managed to chip out a square inch of tile as I dropped the free weights on to the ground. Look, it's really hot out here and I was tired from scrambling up the sandstone steps of all of those Temples. Luckily the calamitous echo of steel on ground was drowned out by the neighbouring rattle of the local construction workers. The same workers who wake me up at 6am every morning. What goes around comes around I suppose.
Siem Reap Song of the Day: Elvis Presley - I Can't Help Falling In Love With You
What a song, I'd forgotten about Mr P's warbling charms, which came on during last night's dinner on Bar Street. The only downside is that each time I have this song in my head it transforms, rather quickly, to the odious UB40 version
i-Pod Song of the Day: The Dead Weather - Treat Me Like Your Mother
Another great side-project from Jack White, cool tune
As I clambered over the bare feet of the various comfortable Japanese tourists, I found that my seat on the bus was badly broken and in a permanent state of recline. I'm as laid back as they come, but not for such a duration of a trip and with everyone packed like sardines in a crushed tin can, I couldn't easily swap. The good news was that the bus had light entertainment for all passengers for the course of the journey (apparently this is why this VIP bus cost $1 more than the budget alternative) . However, I'm not sure that a ten inch black and white television mounted on the front showing 'Baby's Day Out' dubbed in Cambodian, constitutes light entertainment. Cracking film by the way, the toddler reminds me of a young Kevin McAllister. They have a similar mischievous grin and the only difference between the two for me is that the child had no bird lady to dig him out of trouble.
Some six, bumpy, bottom-tearing and tiring hours later, the bus wheezed and choked to an uncomfortable halt at Siem Reap, like an asthmatic pensioner drawing his last breath before dying in the arms of his nursing home carer. It's a pretty little City, the French influence painted liberally on their numerous winding boulevards and dusty markets. Siem Reap is also home to the great Temples of Angkor (namely Angkor Wat and Angkor Thom) located just seven km away from the City Centre.
As most travellers do, I took an early morning trip to the Temples, accompanied by my new hired moto driver, who I shall name as Chuy, due to his resemblance to the character of the same name in Alfonso Cuarón's poignant film, Y Tu Mamá También. Chuy is a quiet and noble driver and as he knew no English, or indeed any verbal skills at all, we communicated solely via a thumbs up or a thumbs down for the entire day. This worked so well that I am thinking of introducing this primitive rule if and when I return back to England. Chuy, being a dear man, spent the majority of the early Morning consoling my newly wounded heart. My digital camera screen had broken (not surprisingly whilst within my rucksack on the horror bus) and I just couldn't hold the tears back.
As such, all the numerous and amusing photographs of me with all my new found friends will not be uploaded any time soon. OK, so there was only one photo I had to upload, and that was of myself and the laundrette ladies all with my freshly clean underwear on our heads, but we were all having a swell time.
I'm going to spend the rest of this afternoon at the roof top gym at the Guest House. I need to hide the evidence of yesterday's mess where I managed to chip out a square inch of tile as I dropped the free weights on to the ground. Look, it's really hot out here and I was tired from scrambling up the sandstone steps of all of those Temples. Luckily the calamitous echo of steel on ground was drowned out by the neighbouring rattle of the local construction workers. The same workers who wake me up at 6am every morning. What goes around comes around I suppose.
Siem Reap Song of the Day: Elvis Presley - I Can't Help Falling In Love With You
What a song, I'd forgotten about Mr P's warbling charms, which came on during last night's dinner on Bar Street. The only downside is that each time I have this song in my head it transforms, rather quickly, to the odious UB40 version
i-Pod Song of the Day: The Dead Weather - Treat Me Like Your Mother
Another great side-project from Jack White, cool tune
Your updates make me sad. Though you are correct that the charms of Mr P are not to be under estimated.. can I recommend 'In the Ghetto'.
ReplyDeleteAre you home soon? I haven't left the flat since you went, and will not until you return.
Now I'm listening to the Elvis classic 'Don't cry Daddy' with a photo of Wragg next to me. It's all getting to much.
ReplyDelete