Today started as “it’s not a G’day mate…” Let me explain. There is no direct bus route from Kep to Sihanoukville. The route is to make your way to Kampot, which I did by tuk tuk, 45mins of bone shaking again. The road at this time of day (8am) was much busier than when I came down a couple of days ago, busy little fruit and veg stalls along the side of the road and work in the fields being much more evident. Men and children pushing wooden ploughs pulled along by 2 oxen, women scattering seeds. Yet more children (those that can afford it) going to school. From Kampot I had booked the G’day Mate mini van, an Australian run concern, so I assumed, reliable. It promised me aircon, no mad overtaking, no blaring of horns, no karaoke and a seat all to myself. The other option, a shared taxi packs in so many people, that there are two on the front passenger seat and four in the back; this including the luggage makes for an uncomfortable 2 hour ride. So I wait patiently for said mini van on the lovely riverside at Kampot, but no sign. I call them to be told that the bus had broken, so wouldn’t run. The next one was at 4pm in the afternoon. So instead of sitting around all day, I splurge on a private taxi at $40 – a cheap price for home as it’s about 160 kms and 2 hours, but daylight robbery here where the average civil servant earns less than that in a month. But it was a seller’s market, so I went with it. He was actually a good driver with reasonable English, and I eventually arrive safely in Sihanoukville. The town started off as a port in the 50’s, but as the book says, it is now much more a beach than a port town, catering to weekenders from Phnom Penh as well as a steadily increasing number of foreign visitors. It’s much bigger than I expected, really lively with lots of different beaches. The rapidly expanding town hasn’t seen the benefit of good planning – it’s just built upwards and outwards in a ramshackle way. Small hotels and guest houses everywhere. It seems to cater for every type of visitor – loads of backpacker places up to a recently opened island hotel just off shore at $1,000 per night (leased and run by Russians as is a lot of the real estate). And there is even a free place on the beach – a dorm bed with showers for absolutely no dollars a night…. I arrive at the Reef Resort at lunchtime and it looks good – with their logo a rip off of the Rolls Royce logo – I hope the quality is the same! But there was no immediate room at the inn – a new manager called Zak (an American “light” from California, about 30) had taken over just that day and there was some booking confusion. Long story short, I just had to wait a few hours for it to be sorted, and people moved. But actually, it turned into a really enjoyable afternoon. The reception area, bar, restaurant, pool table, big tv are all in the open area at the front. So I was fed and watered for free. And I got chatting to Josh (another American “light” from California). I got to learn a little of their history – Zak has been living in Cambodia after years of travelling and has settled down with a Cambodian girl and they now have a 4 month old baby. He needed a better paid job, so has taken over running this place, with, I understand, no experience in hotel management. The hotel is currently No1 on Tripadvisor for Sihanoukville, so he will have his work cut out keeping that place, but he managed the room confusion well so am sure he will be fine. Josh is an old friend of his who currently manages an Irish bar in the red light district of Hamburg and who is visiting for a couple of weeks to see his mate – what different people you meet travelling around. In the middle of the afternoon, 3 burly South African’s walk in and ask for the TV to be turned to CTN, the local station. An unusual request for Westerners, so I assumed they really meant CNN and some big news was breaking. But no, they did mean the local station. It turns out that one of the guys has been in Phnom Penh for eight years teaching Khmer boxing, and has put together a reality TV series where 12 boxers go through a series of knockout challenges every week until finally there is only one winner. The winner gets a scooter and 1 million riels (about £125) so different from the rewards of reality TV at home. But I understand, more importantly they get food and lodging and I think he said $12 a week and good training during the 12 weeks. On the programme, they were interviewing the contestant’s relatives, filming them in their homes which were just the one room stilted shacks I have seen everywhere. An episode of his programme was on, and there he was on the TV! I also tried to sort the old wireless (these blogs are piling up), but no wireless cards had been delivered…. Finally I get in to my room, and it’s really nice (I am paying $40US a night including a big breakfast). A mini bar, tv, aircon and as far as I can see, joy of joys, no creatures, nor any holes for them to crawl through. The shower is a bit odd – like the ones in small Greek hotels which have no enclosure at all – the water just goes everywhere. But it was the best shower ever – loads of water and constant, even temperature – heaven! Refreshed, I go back out to find the internet café for a quick call to Mum, and meet Josh on the way. His poor mate Zak was still beavering away on this his first day of managing the place, so had to skip dinner with Josh who was now on his own. He asked if I fancied going to the new Sushi bar. So off we went in a tuk tuk and enjoyed quite good Sushi and Sake in Sihanoukville, not what I would have expected here. We get back to a heaving bar at the Reef Resort a couple of hours later – it seems to be the meeting point for people who have come over here, and just stayed. Charlie, a young Brit who has opened a business just down the road called Boom Boom selling MP3’s, another girl from Bolton who is doing a mix of volunteer work and paid work in a dive shop. An Ozzie bar manager and several others whose history I have yet to discover. And so to bed, like Cinderella at midnight, really late for me, but feeling at home already.
