Back to the land of smiles

It's like catching up with an old friend after years apart - ah, Bangkok, don't you ever change! The Koh Sahn area has become a decompression chamber for me ever since I started coming to Asia nearly 8 years ago. After nearly a dozen visits, it's second nature so I relax and let my guard down.

A place to tag in, get some stuff we need, and hit the road a few days later. Catch up on cheap internet and tasty street food. Haggle with the same street vendors and visit the same pancake dude. Who says you can't have a routine while travelling the world?

A gritty little town called Battambang

A town like a lot of little towns in Cambodia. A sticky bitumen strip running down the middle, crowded on both sides by shops selling all manner of goods and services. A couple of blocks back is the river, where sweaty seafood restaurants compete for priority along the muddy banks. The smoky smell of charcoal roasted seafood fills the air. Away from the river, the network of bitumen quickly gives way to dusty earth.

The hotel we stay at looks like a scene from a 60's movie - cracked walls and flaking paint, a creaky door and a leaky toilet. The fan sounds like a Cessna on takeoff, and has built up an evil wobble which threatens to detach it from the ceiling. This room could tell some stories, I'll bet.

Battambang was Khmer Rouge heartland during their heyday, and remnants remain if you look hard enough. One of the local tourist sites is a mountain packed to the hilt with Buddha statues and monuments. According to locals, the mountain also boasts a network of caves where Khmer Rouge undertook executions. I can't resist the urge to explore some caves we happen upon, and make a grizzly discovery - a pile of human bones - instantly sending shivers up my spine. I emerge from the cave sweaty and agitated, my mind awash with images of writhing torture and pain. Once again, I find it hard to understand how pure ideas can generate such wicked actions. Can hate ever spawn a positive outcome?

I think my experience in the caves has tipped me over the edge, and I'm glad to see Battambang disappear in the distance. I really enjoyed my time in Cambodia - the people are amazingly friendly and kind, considering their recent history. Nonetheless, as we hurtle towards Poipet and the Thailand border, I'm glad to be heading back in the land of smiles. Next stop, Bangkok.

What Wat is that?

Of all the things that come to mind when you mention Cambodia, it' s hard to imagine the temples of Angkor coming anywhere except number one on the list of amazing sites. And the photos don't do it any justice - this really is an amazing feast for the senses. I would easily put this in a league with the Pyramids of Egypt for sheer scale and magnitude - it demonstrates to me the power of spiritual devotion... really is amazing what people will do in the name of a deity.

The cream of the crop is Angkor Wat, a well preserved 12th century religious monument. This popular Wat is on everyone's itinerary - any moto driver worth his salt takes you to Angkor Wat, and of all the temples in the Angkor period settlement, it's by far the most famous. The crowds and touts are understandably horrendous, and somehow the sunrise is not as spectacular when you share it with thousands of flashing cameras. Still pretty good though - mmm, aren't I a snob?

Because we have an extended stay in Siem Reap, we explore some of the less known temples and we are rewarded by quiet sites, friendly locals and some really well preserved ruins. Some of the temples are dedicated to Hindu gods while others are devoted to Buddhist deities, and the most interesting are a combination of the two.

Although the Khmer Rouge abolished all religion, the temples of Angkor remained largely untouched by their hand. Unfortunately, light fingered treasure hunters helped themselves to a great swathe of priceless Cambodian artifacts evidenced by, among other things, headless statues. The current Cambodian administration are strict with captured opportunists, hopefully keeping the temples in tact for future generations to visit and admire.

Of all the temples, the most interesting one for me was Ta Phrom. Unlike the rest of the temples, Ta Phrom has been 'spared' from a constant preservation and restoration schedule and so the forest is slowly returning to claim the structure. Out of all the temples, it feels the most authentic - I expect a thousand year old temple to have some imperfections. The huge strangler figs stretch their fingers down into the earth, creating a mysterious atmosphere around the ancient walls - it's hard not to sit and soak up the vibes.

Raining on the plains

After the harrowing realities of the Khmer Rouge in Phnom Penh, we head south to the coast with Jamie and Sarah, a couple from Australia and the US respectively. The dust is replaced by mud as the monsoon kicks into high gear, and we scuttle between monsoonal downpours like rock bound crabs between waves.

With a couple of book stores, a few cafes and some quiet bars, Kampot, on the south coast of Cambodia, is a beautiful little town well worth spending a few days exploring. Unfortunately, the weather prevents us getting out of foot, so we commandeer a motorbike with a covered trailer for exploration. We scamper through some caves escorted by some enterprising young Cambodian lads - apparently the Khmer Rouge destroyed some of the Buddhist icons in the cave during their reign and consequently they are in ruins. Cheeky little tour guides ask for 1 US dollar for their services... we oblige. Got to reward enterprise, I reckon.

But after a week lurking around on the south coast, it's time to head north to Siem Reap... apparently there's a few temples up there worth looking at.

A heart of darkness

The Cambodian capital is refreshing different to Vietnam - its grubbier and poorer at first glance, but with open and friendly locals. Cambodia's recent political history looms large over the capital. Although Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge are now long gone, if you listen to the background noise, you can almost hear the voices screaming. The sound of a tortured nation.

An ancient prophecy foretells: A darkness will settle on the people of Cambodia. There will be houses but no people in them, roads but no travellers; the land will be ruled by barbarians with no religion; blood will run so deep as to touch the belly of the elephant. Only the deaf and mute will survive. People will be so hungry that they will run after a dog to fight for a grain of rice that has stuck to its tail.

All across the city are remnants of the oppressive nature of the regime. S21 was a school-cum-prison where the regime interned 20,000 opponents. Seven lived to speak about it. I'm repulsed by the methodical organisation evident during our visit. How humans can embrace and act on such extreme hate for one another is beyond me. The vibe of terror pervades the grounds and buildings, and as we walk around I can feel resonant anguish of thousands of victims. I'm tense and edgy. Each of the prison rooms are adorned with the original beds and torture equipment, giving an overall grizzly, macabre ambiance.

From the prison, we head to the aptly named Killing Fields, where Cambodians in their thousands were slaughtered. My rational mind seeks to attribute some reason to the actions of the Khmer Rouge because I want to believe that there is a reason for what they did. Still, I'm not sure that any reason would come up to scratch. I'm shocked by the cruelty. I can't understand why a quarter of the population, nearly 2 million people, were killed. It's obviously deranged and insane - I can't understand how an idea be so powerful that it severs your connection to your fellow man.

Delta blues

Ten million people and four million motorbikes… It's no surprise that Ho Chi Minh City sees traffic jams of mammoth proportions. HCMC is edgy, energetic and entirely captivating. I've written in previous posts about my attraction to places which do not solely rely on tourism for survival. HCMC is definitely one of those places - at anytime of the day or night, something is happening and there's great food and culture from around the world. An energy bug that's easy to catch...

We cruise up the Cu Chi region, north east of HCMC, where a spider web network of tunnels made the area famous during the ‘Vietnam’ War. At its peak, the tunnel network spread over 250 square kilometres but carpet bombing and post war disrepair have taken their toll on all but a few. The remainder have been developed as a tourist attraction, where fat tourists can struggle through the stinking hot and cramped tunnels and take in the real story of the war ( read vicious anti-American polemic).

With HCMC doing our heads in, we gear up and point south to the Delta, a mass of canals, rivers and mangroves. We catch a boat from Can Tho for a vouryeristic inspection of the floating markets, an interesting and somewhat difficult way to trade goods. The early morning river is heaving with all manner of floating craft filled to the brim with fresh produce.

Most of the traders pay little attention to us, hurrying to complete their bartering in the rain. And as the rain comes pouring down, spirits are dampened and clothes are soaked - time for food and beverages. They say the Mekong rots your feet right off your legs, and with rain and humidity like this, I can't help but agree - my hands and feet and wrinkled like an old man.

Soon we are heading back to the big smoke, ready to head to Cambodia in the morning. Looking back on my one month in Vietnam, I realise I've been really trying hard to like the place. With some notable exceptions aside (Sapa and Ninh Binh), I felt that most Vietnamese are relatively uninterested in me as a tourist - especially in the north of the country. At first, I took this as arrogance - they couldn’t care less if I was there or not. But as I watched the seething rabble, I saw Vietnamese people treating their fellow country men with equal disinterest.

On the roads, motorcycles would fearlessly hurtle around corners without a glance, oftentimes causing serious accidents. I guess with 80 odd million people vying for your attention, it’s overwhelming to pay attention to everyone. I didn’t feel inspired by the passion of the people - unless I was about to spend money I saw glazed eyes. Unlike their Thai cousins, who are friendly and genuinely outgoing, Vietnamese people seriously don’t care. I respect someone who knows what they want- if they make a choice not to interact with me, that’s fine. But when the overwhelming impression is one of nonchalance, I’m curious to understand why. The jury is still out on that one…

South-central Vietnam

The afternoon monsoon, building arrogantly on the horizon, draws air with increasing intensity. Nature in it's pure, unadulterated form, not attributing worth or feeling obligation - it just 'is', wild and free, constantly morphing, never static, ready to release it's collected load. We've finally run into the monsoon in Hoi An, and the rain is refreshing and a great relief all at once - it's actually a novelty to be dodging warm puddles on a steaming, wet street instead of sweltering like a dog.

Hoi An is particularly well known for tailors - at last count there are over 400 tailor shops in the town, and from dawn to dusk, they are on the street corner keen to get your business. The narrow streets are lined with quaint French colonial buildings, and like Hanoi, packed with patisseries and great restaurants. With just one night in Hoi An, it's really just a glorified stopover, so there's no time for tailoring.

South bound in a sleeper bus, before you know it we hit the beach resort town of Nha Trang. I'm keen to do some diving, and head off to check out what's on offer at the various dive establishments. I've heard a few stories about dodgy dive operators here, and my investigations reinforce this rumour. After a few false starts, I choose the largest and oldest company in Nha Trang - sometimes a lower price is just not worth it. Due to dynamite fishing and a building monsoon the diving nowhere near as good as the Red Sea, but I spot some awesome critters including a cool red seahorse and some wicked little nudibranchs. Shit it's good to get back in the water.

Limestone on rice

Strapped to the back of a motorbike is the way to see the sights in the relatively sleepy little town of Ninh Binh. Known colloquially as Halong Bay on rice paddies, it's a great base from which to explore the surrounding rice paddies where limestone karst formations jut out in a surreal fusion of agricultural and geological. At first, it's a bit hairy negotiating the traffic, but vehicle concentration decreases off the main highway and my confidence spikes. Soon we're hurtling up and down various dirt tracks like seasoned locals.

We decide to head up to Coc Phuong National Park, in the mountains behind Ninh Binh, where an endangered Primates Research Centre works to rehabilitate many species of languars and gibbons confiscated from black market traders. Coc Phuong is a world away from the hot, dusty plains - it's cool and quiet and there's so many trees! Clearly, tourists aren't as common up here as in Sapa or Halong Bay - the locals are suprised to see white people, and make a big effort to strike up a conversation. It's a refreshing trend to see National Parks and conservation projects in a developing country like Vietnam, because generally nature is not respected and animals are predominantly seen as food.

Speaking of Vietnamese dietary preferences, check out this menu we spotted. I'm not sure how popular these delicacies are with western travellers - I think even the most seasoned carnivore would have trouble hooking into a dog or a cat. And as for the penis... I've got one and I'm kind of attached to it, so the suggestion of cooking and eating a penis leaves me horrified. There are 2 things I like to use mine for, and putting it into an oven is not one of them!