Having booked my bus ticket earlier in the week as the only other way to get to Kep is a taxi, which is not recommended by the guidebooks who talk of kamikaze taxi drivers, I set off with some trepidation to the bus station by the Central Market, taken there by my trusty pink tuk tuk driver of yesterday. It’s certainly not Victoria Coach Station. It’s hot and dusty with people, tuk tuks, food sellers, newspaper sellers, cars, buses, boxes, whistles and bikes everywhere, but amidst the chaos I find my bus to Kep. There are buses going in every direction, inside Cambodia but also to Vietnam and Bangkok. But why does my bus have to be the scruffiest looking one in the station? The badly cracked windscreen was a bit of a worry, but at least it wasn’t on the driver’s side… I look longingly at the VIP buses going out (same as the one I travelled in from Siem Reap, about which I was so scathing). They now look like Rolls Royce’s – my bus seats are 4 across, grubby, no sign of a snack, onboard hostess or even a bottle of water. And I discover the airconditioning is basically leaving the door open as you whizz along. It could well be marketed as a mobile sauna. So that’s the difference between a $5 and a $9 ride – if only I had had the choice the extra $4 would gladly have been sacrificed! But a hell of a bargain as it’s about a 220km trip. I sit next to a young American guy who was going “home” to Kampot. He is halfway through a 2 year stint with the Peace Corps and is teaching English at a school. We bump along non stop for 2 hours to the pitstop, but as usual I do my camel impression and can avoid the “services”. After that the bus takes on more of a local nature and stops as and when people flag it down. There are no more seats left. People sit down in the aisle, including one old lady carrying a big covered box that was emitting chicken like noises. In the seat in front which had just been vacated was a young family. According to the Peace Corps guy, young Cambodian children are not used to travel and are always travel sick – this one was no exception, and it made me glad I had not eaten lunch. So after 4 hours (it seemed longer) I get off at Kep, wondering where was it… there was nothing here apart from a dusty bus stop and a few tuk tuk drivers with the sea to one side. But the tuk tuk driver had heard of the Champey Inn, so I negotiate my dollar and off we go. The hotel is lovely, simple, but lovely and is a few thatched bungalows set around a very clean looking pool a few yards from the sea. The outdoor bathroom (not one of my favourites) is clean and surprisingly stylish, and the bed is festooned with a mozzie net – but there is airconditioning too. Kep, one of the last bastions of the Khmer Rouge, is set in the National Park so it’s surrounded by very exotic greenery. The “town” is famous for its seafood and just down from the hotel is the seafood market where there are shack type restaurants. But that was too much of a challenge for night one so I go to the hotel restaurant – perhaps that is overstating it a little, it’s a few tables in an outdoor area that is bar, restaurant and reception, and no one else there. Looking forward to an Asian menu I was surprised to be presented with a full on French one so opted for the fish provencale. It was served with apologies in broken English – “sorry, we no have small” –and as well as the ubiquitous rice, was a full on fish, including head, tail and eyes about 18” long and flopping over the side of the plate. But with the help of a G&T (wine had run out) I manage some of it. These blogs may be delayed in appearing – technology isn’t big here. When I arrived, I asked about “wifi” and they proudly told me that they serve Sauvignon Blanc… But language problems resolved, it appears the internet (not sure if wifi or not at this stage) is a 15min walk away. But I guess that’s the least of their concerns, up until last year all electric power was generator only turned off at 11pm and still the nearest ATM is in Sihanoukville, some 2 hours away….
