Phumĭ Dong Khmei

We left our lakeside homestay aboard our host’s big boat for a ride down river to Koh Kong, accompanied by his wife and 7 year old daughter. It looked like they had a day’s shopping planned in the big city whilst we were disembarking with no clue about what we were doing, where we were going or what transport options we had.

This was a first for us but with the ever present Google Maps guiding us, we wheeled our bags away from the grimy port area, through an early morning market towards the bus station and a much needed planning session over croissants and lattes in a delightful, air conditioned bakery/cafe.

With the Thai border being just up the road, our brief view of Koh Kong had confirmed what we had heard about it being a wild west frontier town. It was bustling, dusty and deeply unattractive but our choice was booking a one night stay here or waiting for a mid afternoon bus. We opted for a stay at a small hotel a little way out of town named just for us, Young Wild and Free and booked tickets for the next day, to take us 4 hours south to the port at Sihanoukville and a ferry bound for the Cambodian island of Koh Rong, in The Gulf Of Thailand.

We were set for some time on the beach.

Young, Wild and Free was run by a charming French couple aided by a bartender called Steve from Doncaster and as in many other stops, we wondered what had led these particular ex-pats to settle in such an odd place. Our room for the night was one of half a dozen triangular, wooden shacks on stilts, about 5 metres from the shoreline with a mattress on the floor (again!). When we sent Harry a video of the bedding arrangements, he asked where the rest of our room was!

A day with sand between our toes was exactly what was needed after our travails in the jungle and when, the next day our ferry deposited us on Koh Rong, we could easily have been on a Caribbean island. The town at the end of the main ferry pier was a jumble of coloured shacks, corrugated roofs, stalls selling fresh produce and touts flogging tickets and tours. Away from the port, there was very little other development and our hotel in Sok San Village was literally where the road up that side of the island ran out.

With the narrow sandy road running between the hotel itself and the private beach, we had definitely moved up a notch from the previous few days. Hallelujah! The only slight downside, was that the hotel had a Japanese theme meaning a futon bed, that was just about on the damned floor!

The beach at Sok San was pristine. Crisp and startling white, it almost squeaked underfoot and as it was combed and swept 2 or 3 times a day, we were able to enjoy some very horizontal days on sun loungers, with only the occasional dip in the clear, blue water to consider. A much needed chance to relax and enjoy a brief re-charge.

A quick mention must be made of the hotel breakfast here where detailed instructions were laid out about how to make and enjoy a proper Cambodian breakfast, The photos show how to serve yourself Bo Po Porridge and there was also a Chicken Noodle Soup option. A very odd thing to have for breakfast but waiting until 0945 made it feel kind of like lunch and both dishes were amazingly good. Up there in new food discoveries, along with Vietnamese egg coffee.

Wistfully, we left Sok San last Sunday on a fast sea ferry bound for Kampot. Our arrival there at the brand new tourism pier was heaving with soldiers, police and security guards preparing for the arrival the next day of the Cambodian President who would be declaring the new facility open. We bypassed the kerfuffle and tuk-tuked further along the coast for a couple of nights to Kep, where we had booked another delightful hotel. This one was a cross between a Disney themed jungle hotel and Centre Parcs, with 2 wonderful pools and a location right on the doorstep of a National Park. Another Cambodian bargain.

Kep was known as Kep-sur-Mer when the French were the colonial rulers and whilst the locals still seem to use the town for days at the seaside, hanging around in wooden cabanas along the seashore in hammocks, there were also many sad and abandoned colonial properties all around the town. Kep is still renowned for crab and every restaurant along the shoreline had tanks of crabs outside, with teams of people shelling and preparing buckets of crab meat. Following an unfortunate reaction to crab on my 14th birthday, we decided that this was the ideal time and place to conquer my lifelong fear of this food.

A couple of Cambodian beers, a chilli infused crab curry and I was, again, a man!

Being on the edge of the National Park meant an irresistible early morning trek that was meant to be a straightforward loop of 8 kilometres, on a well marked track. Inevitably, for us, that wasn’t the case and we ended up doing almost 11 kilometres, with the last 3 being on a barely marked jungle path. Great fun though, with the added bonus of making it back in time for breakfast.

Our last stop on this western leg of Cambodia was Kampot. Having learned not to trust starry eyed Lonely Planet descriptions, we were not surprised to find that there was something off about Kampot. The old French architectural heritage was in evidence around the old town streets but the presence in bar after bar of older, overweight, white blokes looked and felt decidedly seedy. The obvious quip about me fitting right in was made but a couple of conversations with locals confirmed that Kampot has a thriving underbelly of sex and drugs.

Obviously, I was not allowed to linger but we enjoyed a last coastal supper in an oasis like vegetarian restaurant and contemplated our impending return to Phnom Penn and then our route out to Eastern Cambodia where we were eagerly anticipating some wildlife encounters.

With the end of our 30 day visa looming, time was becoming limited and there still semed to be so much to fit in before we headed north into Laos. Or back into Vietnam. Or back to Thailand.

Another coin flip was required.Read more