Lovely boating weather..

Luxury air conditioned cabin

Chaos unloading the boat

trying to push the boat out of the mud

Towing the boat off the mudbank (we were on boat doing the towing!)

Checking how deep the water is

February 7 2007 Siem Reap


We’d been told that there were some famous temples in Siem Reap. I have to say, I am not very interested in ancient temples, but as we were in Cambodia, it seemed like something that we should do.

Now that we are in Phnom Penh, which lies around 220 miles to the south of Siem Reap, we had a quick look at the transport options.

Option 1 – most expensive – was to fly – hardly worth it for such a short trip.
Option 2 – cheapest – take the bus (7 hour journey)
Option 3 – Take the boat (the Bullet!) - $24 each, seemed a nice thing to do on a fine sunny day, so this is what in our infinite ignorance we chose. Accordingly we book the Boat trip for Wednesday, 7.02.07 and it leaves at 7am from the harbour, about 30 minutes drive from our hotel.

Rita will explain.
Soon after we get on the boat and find our allocated seats we decide for very good reason to travel up on deck. We noticed that many of the seated passengers looked aghast, and quizzical and I heard a German tourist say ‘This is not what you’d expect is it?’ Before long everyone is competing for space on the deck area. The inside of the boat resembles the inside of a small aircraft with seating 2-abreast either side of an aisle accommodating approximately 80 passengers. It has the claustrophobic environs of a submarine, and it is cramped and evil smelling. I later discover that the single toilet at the back of the seating area is responsible for the emanating stench. There was no escape route from within, and no life jackets or dinghies in sight anywhere and no safety instructions of any kind issued, and just as I was making these unnerving observations, the engine roared and we were off. It was really crowded on deck and I was wondering how I would manage to spend 7 hours in this one position and escape boredom and pins and needles or leg cramps. I need not have worried because as the morning wore on people started to shift their positions and move around a bit – you did have to get someone ‘to save’ your place though otherwise you would return to an even smaller area as encroachment was a real issue. Not able to hold on any longer, I had to push my way through the throng and make my way to the toilet which meant going inside. (Inside the boat there were only two passengers, both sleeping, everyone else was up top). To my dismay the toilet was of the squatting variety and placed up on a plinth of sufficient height to make it the least female-user-friendly toilet in the whole universe! - Note from LM : When I went to the toilet, I opened the door and a young lady was squatting up there (the lock was bust), most unnerving for both of us, as she was at eye level , When I did come to use it though, I discovered that it was at quite a covenient height for a gentleman to relieve himself.

As Rita was saying we decided to take the 'roof ' option along with 98% of the other passengers. It was a choice between that or drawing the thick diesel fumes into your lungs and risking certain death if the boat should capsize. If the boat should capsize? Why should that happen?Well, reading my $3 copy of the Cambodia Lonely Planet Guide, it tells me that the boat has sunk on occasion in the dry season, that it has no safety measures in evidence (true) and that the majority of passengers will choose to sit on the roof (true again). Reading a different publication, it tells me that the service has been suspended indefinitely. So what's this we're on?

I relayed this comforting information to an American guy I was talking to on the boat. He was a confident much travelled man, but expressed some trepidation on receiving this news. His travelling partner was a Vietnamese woman who left Vietnam back in 1970 to live in the States. She married an American (not him). She was on her way to visit her sister in Vietnam whom she had not seen since childhood. She was recording her trip for a newspaper back in North Carolina.

The first part of the boat journey turned out to be the most interesting scenically as we were still on the river, rather than the huge lake that we later joined. I think we were on the Tonle Sap river, which merges with the Mekong in Phnom Penh.

There was lots of human activity on the river. Floating fishing villages, small fishing vessels, people eking out their subsistence level lives, oh and dogs - there seemed to be lots of dogs.

Dogs in boats, dogs on rafts, dogs in the fishing villages and dogs swimming across the river.

After about three hours of the journey, during which I'd spent an interesting and pleasant hour chatting to the Vietnamese reporter, the boat slowed to almost a stop and the man at the helm, started waving his arms and shouting across to a fisherman on a very flat looking craft about 50 metres away. The fisherman gestured back, indicating the line that our boat should follow. Two minutes later our boat juddered to a complete standstill and there was a putrifying smell of engine fumes coupled with black clouds emanating from the rear of our boat. It would appear that something was amiss.

Next thing the boat lurched violently to one side and I expected to hear the cry of 'women and children first'. Unfortunately though there was not a single lifebelt, let alone a lifeboat aboard this vessel.

People began to get worried. Rita expecting the worst removed her shoes and took from her handbag her passport, bank cards and posh earrings putting them in her pockets and ear lobes respectively. All this is executed with the precision of the condemned. Clearly she is not convinced there are no pockets in a shroud! However, we soon discovered that the Deep, forboding and uninviting though is was, was not drowning-deep.

One of the crew members had pitched himself overboard and was now wading chest high in the fetid water (I guess it was). He was obviously testing the depth and trying to find a passage for the now stranded boat to follow. Did this happen often?

The boat then unexpectedly lurched to the other side as the driver attempted to dredge his way out of the mud. This action was again accompanied by strong engine fumes and black smoke.

I have to say, I was wondering if we'd all have to abandon ship and wade/swim to the side.

We were at least 50 metres from the shore, though, and I'm not sure what perils lurked below the surface (leeches for sure).

Just as crew and passengers alike were beginning to despair a small flat boat pulled up alongside our stricken vessel.

After a brief conversation with a guy on the fishing boat, a crew member on our boat bade the fishing vessel to pull alongside.

Next thing we knew, some of us were being ordered off the 'bullet' onto the fishing boat.

I had the dubious honour of being the first one ordered off. I didn't know whether this was to prove a good thing or not, but certainly I resolved to start my diet on Monday! Rita saw me on this boat and asked me what I was doing. Next thing, she was ushered off and joined me on the boat. When there were in the region of 20 people on the 'rescue' vessel, the fishing boat man cast a line to the stricken boat. The line was secured and the fishing vessel than began to drag the boat out of the mud and into deeper waters. Once the boat was free, there was an almighty cheer and much clapping (in relief, rather than admiration, methinks).

We passengers on the flat boat then had to clamber back on to the Bullet. One of my fellow evacuees was nearly decapitated by a swinging piece of wood as we re-embarked. I don't think it would have made the papers here though if he had.

Anyway, we're back on board now. The Vietnamese lady is silently weeping, obviously distressed by all this comotion.

But she does find her voice again after about an hour and continues her recordings. I hope she found something interesting to say about the boat trip

There were no more major incidents on the boat until we docked at a village at the end of the Tonle Sap lake (15 kms south of Siem Reap). We were told that when we arrived at the dock, there would be a taxi to take us to our hotel (OK, OK, We all need a bit of comfort in our lives).

Sure enough, as the boat lurched up to the quayside (using term loosely here, should read rickety planks on stilts) ahead of us in a mob of about 50 others, there was a man with the name 'MERICK' writ large on a piece of paper.

So all we had to do now was collect our luggage (one big rucksack at this point, as 2nd big rucksack being stored in Phnom Penh), connect with our Name-holder and be driven to our hotel.

The first major problem was to retrieve our luggage. All the passengers were crowded around the perimeter of the boat waiting for their luggage to emerge. The luggage was being flung on to the top of the boat at both ends. None of the passengers could move, so unless by some miracle your lugage was on top and you were next to it and furthermore you were able to exit the boat, then you were stuck. A lot of people on the boat didn't even realise that the luggage was appearing at front and rear and so stayed glued to the end of the boat that they were on expecting at sometime to be re-united with their bag/s. The result of this streamlined operation was Impasse. No-one could move, no-one could see their own luggage and everyone was reluctant to leave the boat without their luggage.

Rita overhead a couple of well-spoken Brits : "What the hell is going on, where in the world do you think we are?" he asked his mate. "Cambodia" came the reply laden with sarcastic emphasis on each syallble.

Another Brit was more forthright : "Come on, let's get this fucking thing moving".

I decided to leave the boat. But then found myself pinned against a wall and actually causing more of an obstruction than I had been previously. Rita had made her way down the boat and eventually emerged closely pursued by some Cambodian fellow who was carrying our rucksack.

"I'll take that now" I offered, but the chap carrying the bag was not to be dispossessed and continue to carry it until we met with our taxi driver.

The taxi turned out to be a tuk-tukk, but that's ok, that's quite a good way to travel. As our bag-carrier man put the bag on the tuk-tukk, I reached in my wallet for a few riels (Cambodian currency) and gave him about the equivalent of 20p. OK, I know, that's not much, but for him it's a decent tip. "One dollar" he demanded. "Not worth one dollar" I said (he'd carried the bag about 100 metres at most). "One Dollar". At this point, I began to get a bit annoyed and Rita decided to intervene. It turned out though, that we couldn't give him a dollar as we only had a couple of $20 notes and he couldn't change them. In the end the tuk-tukk driver gave some money to go away.

Our drive to Siem Reap was along very dusty unmade roads through villages which looked one step down from rural Vietnam in terms of poverty. We eventually made it to our hotel in Siem Reap and both went for a much needed lie down in a darkened room. Oh, the stress of it all exclaims Rita, relieving the tipping of the boat and now enjoying the peace and safety that is our hotel room.

Turns out this hotel is very comfortable though and has an excellent swimming pool. What a contrast...it's not just all about swimming you see, clearly the conditions are everything!