Town is quiet, March is the start of the low season here and whilst it's not the start of the wet season just yet, the heat is starting to build with a haze over the mountains and there was some rain last night. This rain is known charmingly as "mango rain" as they are the unexpected short showers towards the end of the dry season that help to make a good, juicy mango crop. Frankly, this is of no concern to me, I can't stand the things.
Kampot is not a big place to wander around and the main centre is a big roundabout, the centre of which is a huge durian fruit, luckily made of concrete, the real thing I fear would create a stench for miles around. It apparently reflects the fruit growing around here. That, fishing and the fine Kampot pepper are the mainstays of the local economy.
There are a few dusty shops stocking so much more than my first visit here when hair conditioner and Coke Light were unavailable. Testament I guess to companies like P&G's strategy of moving into more third world countries. And pack sizes have got bigger too, the only way to buy shampoo in the old days was in those little one use sachets which festooned every shop, you can still get those but normal size and even jumbo bottles are now everywhere, a sign of more disposable income? And unlike Sihanoukville, the latest Khmer fashion of daytime pyjama's is more evident here although unlike a few year's ago it's mainly the slightly older people wearing them. The younger people are now in the ubiquitous Asian younger "uniform" of jeans. And in a country where the average age of the 15 million people who live here is just 23 that's a lot of jeans! Pol Pot has a lot to answer for. But I decide to explore pyjama fashions and in one shop there is a particularly flowery pair on sale for $16US, that seemed a lot in a place where people in the villages exist on $40US a month. What they need is a good Primark... On balance, I decide to give that fashion experience a miss. But the Western fashion influence is still here in the couple of dusty bridal boutiques I pass with the usual confections of nylon and lace.
But this modernisation of fashion hasn't quite hit the buildings yet, there are stilll lots of the old colonial buildings here to see, sometimes with a shop or restaurant opened on the ground floor, but more often than not, left to go to rack and ruin.
Despite the fact that "Happy Dreamily Pizza" - with free wifi - and including that happy dreamily herb sprinkled on top, is on open sale, the type of travellers here are generally more mature traveller's passing through on the medium worn path both ways between Cambodia and Vietnam, stopping for a day or two. Lots of French of course. Last night I was chatting to a British mum and an auntie and the son/nephew who was on his open ended gap year(s), posh enough to have such a choice. And tonight a Swiss Mexican couple who live in San Francisco and had just completed a Burma trip and now, after Cambodia, on to Vietnam. But back to pizza, I understand older people here pop a bit of the happy herb in their tea every morning - now there's a thought, pity I'm not a great tea drinker... And the free wiffy is often not available from the server, but I suppose once you've dug into that pizza you probably don't care overmuch! But the "Happy Dreamily Pizza" is always busy, and if the cop's do come along you can always hastily eat the evidence!
Apart from the local pizza, the delights of Kampot don't have the same offerings as the other tourist traps here. The only massage is "massage by blind" or "seeing hands massage", all very above board. And not a girly bar in sight and no fat European men with Khmer girls. The main diversions are river trips, wending and jungle walks. Oh and the cinema, which looks slightly on the grubby side to me, and by that I mean germ grubby rather than any other kind! I've concentrated on the wending aspect.
And Rikitikitavi is such a good place to chill out. The staff are great. The girl who checked me in told me her (unpronounceable) name, but said everyone calls her "Tomato". The literal translation of her Khmer name is "Lucky" so where "Tomato" comes from, I have no idea - and I really can't bring myself to call anyone by the name of a salad vegetable! It's interesting, the hotel is all reclaimed wood and old stuff, beautifully done and apparently the Khmer's hate it. Old wood is apparently only for the poor, which I can understand looking at the tumbledown wooden structures lining the opposite riverbank. Modern desirable design here is green tinted mirror glass...
But during my town walk today I discover how cheap alcohol is here in the shops, there must be no tax on it at all, but there again, there appear to be few social services on which to spend tax.... I find a bottle of Lindeman's Aussie bubbles for $9US, even with the disaster that the pound is at the moment, it's still under £6 and has been chilling in my fridge all afternoon, so enough of my conversational wending for today, I'm off to pop the cork and settle outside on my little terrace for sunset, a cold glass and a few pages of a trashy novel. Beats happy dreamily pizza any day. That's how to do "Kalm in Kampot"...
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Location:Riverside Rd,Kampot,Cambodia
