The Last Steps – From Leeches to Beaches

With time pressuring us, we are forced to prematurely leave Cambodia and head south through Thailand towards our departure point- Kuala Lumpur. With a whole day of travel (5am-11pm!), we decide to make a break in the resort town of Hua Hin, a few hours south of Bangkok. After wondering the streets at night for about an hour looking for a backpacker haunt, we get more and more ready to leave. This is package holiday town, complete with cabaret entertainment, and as ever in Thailand - its disturbing slice of sex tourism, with over-tanned old men and prostitutes of questionable gender. In the morning we head straight for the bus station, which as usual ends up being about a 3km walk from the town centre. With our bus not leaving until the evening, we deposit our backpacks and hit the beach, which turns out to be the one plus side of the town. Miles of soft golden sands and warm sea, and apparently perfect kite-surfing weather, as we watch hundreds of them skimming the waves. After absorbing an obligatory amount of UV, normal and infra-red spectrum we finally leave the East Coast, and head South-West on a night bus to the unpronounceable town of Phang-Nga.

Our hopes for a less touristy beach get rewarded with a slight change of plan- due to the fact the “beach” is surrounded by mountains and actually consists of about 10 km of mangrove-forest. Nevertheless, surrounded by dramatic limestone cliffs and rainforest covered national parks, we decide to make a few day motorbike trip into the wilderness. Shortly after buying a tent for this purpose, the clear blue skies turn grey. And then black. And downpour begins. With a short, almost suspicious brightening of the sky, we decide to drive anyway into the park. After half an hour walking into the forest the drizzle begins and as we are about to turn back my leg encounters some unfriendly (or maybe over-friendly) local wildlife....leeches! After noticing that whilst trying frantically to get them off, more are creeping there way up our legs, we freak out and run hysterically back to the bike, before retreating to the safety of the hotel. Lesson learnt - do not wear flip-flops for jungle trekking.

The next day the outlook is brighter and we head off to some waterfalls and caves. The trail is a pleasant one as we hop over small streams and follow stepping stones over the cascading forest floor. On the way, we meet a few companions - an American couple, and two Germans called Ben. All appears well until we reach the end of the trail, when Ava's efforts not to get her shoes wet become somewhat ironic as the path is transformed into a river channel. Luckily sheltered in a cave we watch as the thick heavy rain gradually lessens and we try to make our way back. The phrase written at the entrance of the park “Don't go into the forest during rain” acquires shocking new dimensions as we find the clear babbling brooks replaced by thigh-high muddy torrents. Soaked to the skin, we wade our way back to the entrance alive and thankfully leech-free. Amusingly, out of the row of motorbikes, us six foreigners are the only ones to leave their helmets upside-down and consequently full to the brim with water. Another lesson learnt.

On our final day, we embark on the must-do tour of the countless islands off the coast of Phang-Nga. Arriving early in the morning for our pick-up, we find ourselves in a tuk-tuk with our compatriots from the previous days' adventures. The day begins with a tour through the still waters of the mangrove forest on a traditional long-tail boat. Looking almost like they would walk off, the long roots of the unique trees reach down into the water. Soon the channel opens out to reveal a stunning blue ocean from which dozens of small island extrude. The almost lack of tourists in the town of Phang-Nga is made up here by the plethora of boats from near-by Phuket. This reaches its comical climax as we stop off at the so called “James-Bond island,” the location of Scaramanger's layer in 'The Man With The Golden Gun'. Hundreds of flip-flops scramble over the rocks and through the foaming polluted shallows to get a snapshot. Any remaining space is taken up by souvenir laden stands that line the tiny beach. Some more islands, caves, and a spot of being chauffeured around in a kayak later.. and finally we head back into town, enjoying a well deserved beer. 
 

We decide before our final departure to make one last attempt at a beach holiday, making the tourist town of Krabi our base from which to find a decent spot. Driving past the sun-bed and lobster packed area of Ao Nang, we manage to find a rather quiet beach populated only with a few Thai families and the odd foreigner. It gets better when the tide starts to go out, revealing a hidden sandbar path to a small cluster of rocky islets. As we walk along, hundreds of tiny crabs scuttle out of our way, building miniature castles in the sand in which to hide. The beach is covered in perfectly delicate shells, some of which (after collecting them) appear to be inhabited, as they make their way, probably rather annoyed, back to the sea.

After some asking around, we hear of a nice backpacker location, accessible only by taking a boat. Stopping off at the upmarket beach of Railey- which is apparently one of the top 20 in the world (and priced accordingly), we walk for half an hour or so through the rainforest and come to hippy/climber paradise. Its hard to imagine how this haven exists, next to its overdeveloped, crowded, and ridiculously expensive neighbour. Chilling out at the beach bar made for the large part out of imaginatively put-together drift wood, we watch fire spinning and tightrope acrobatics daringly performed by a Thai man with the biggest and most impressive afro probably in existence. After one night in the tent that we were determined to use, I of course end up with fever and thus leaving the UV light from then on to Ava, whilst seeking the cool safety of palm tree shadows. We manage to make it out for one last day of kayaking, where we explore the small islands off the coast, and very cleverly snorkel around the razor sharp rocks, in painfully salty water. Nevertheless, we return happily to our beach, for one last delicious green curry, before taking a final sunset paradise beer.

The time comes to leave the high cliff-wall surrounded bay of Ton Sai. With the memory of this beautiful scenery in our hearts we head for Malaysia, where our flights awaits us to take us to a very different world. Ready for fish and chips.

Angkor - Wat a Wonderful Place.

With the speed of a snail we leave the island behind us on our ferry and say our goodbyes to our favourite Norwegian. Equipped with enthusiasm for an Indiana Jones adventure we head for the city of Angkor in Cambodia. We hop on an extraordinarily cheap bus to the town of Siem Reap in Cambodia. Of course if something seems too good to be true then it probably is, as we find out when 4km away from the border we are asked to pay the $80 Visa-fee. After rejecting the polite offer and subjecting ourselves to threats of queuing for hours and missing the connecting bus we decide out of principle and experience, to take the risk on our own. Some arguing later we effortlessly cross the border, without paying the 200% higher 2-minutes service fee, and in fact reaching the next bus even before the rest of the passengers had been herded into the country. Scams are big business in South East Asia but for once we can say they didn’t get us this time.

Siem Reap offers a cheap and lively night life, which is taken advantage of by a strange mixture of young party-goers and middle-aged Germans in full khaki jungle exploration wear. Resting on a 50cent pint we watch two rather plump 'ladies of the night' having their fun hunting a Westerner down the road. He appears fairly disturbed and embarrassed by the situation, which for them only acts as playful encouragement.

For the next days we embark on a history safari on a pair of squeaky old dollar-a-day bicycles. About 8km north of the modern town, protected within a large forest, lies the ancient complex of Angkor. Once a flourishing city, the ruins of hundreds of temples are testament to this once mighty kingdom. In the boiling heat we bike 40km on our first day, only to find out we have done the 'small loop' through and around the city. Hard to imagine what must have went through explorers' minds when they found this unbelievable site centuries ago in the middle of the jungle. Tomb Raider herself found it a worthwhile place to stop by anyway.

Having bought the three-day ticket (for a not cheap $60), we have plenty of time to explore. Pictures cannot describe the magnificence of this 1000 year old wonder that was once home to a million people, and the extra days are necessary to take everything in. What the main temple, Angkor Wat has in shear magnitude and design (based on a scaled representation of the Hindu universe), Prasat Bayon shows in decorative intricacy with its huge timeless stone faces looming over the bustling tourists below. Most of Angkor was built in only 40 years, which was only possible by the hands of a heavily skilled army of 50,000 workers. Yet as with many blooming societies it found an end through the lethal grip of overgrowth and enemies. Temples like the one featured in Tomb Raider - Ta Prohm - stand testament, being as much tribute to nature, as to the Khmer empire, with huge trees enveloping these relics of a lost time into the jungle.

Having experienced the ancient Cambodia we decide to have a look into the new one as well, hopping down to Battambang for a couple of days. We start the visit with a rather depressive but humbling excursion to the 'killing caves', a massacre point of the Khmer Rouge during their rein of genocide just 30 years ago. During this time, most of the educated population, men, women and children, were tortured and killed. With such a violent and painful legacy, which many of the population were alive to witness, there comes a renewed respect for the light-hearted, cheerful and welcoming people that inhabit the country.

Whilst driving through the flat countryside with our scooter, I can't resist stopping to take pictures of one of the many wedding parties going on. One of the men signals me over and before I know it I'm delivered into the messy situation of wedding crasher.. being placed right next to the monks and opposite the praying bride and groom. Indeed I might have looked like the (second-)best man. Locked with 20 people in a 16sqm room just as the chanting begins I am left with no choice but sharing the prayers. 30 minutes or so later I use my chance of escape disappearing out of the room with the giggling of the ladies behind me. Enough of local Cambodia for me.