Tag 41 - changeable

ޝާއިޢުކޮށްފައިވެއެވެ: 13.06.2019

10/06/19

We spent the journey, with a few stops, mostly sleeping and arrived in the capital, Phnom Penh, which is just a stopover to the coast, at around 06:00. We get some coffee and an hour later we get on our connecting bus.





The journey is bumpy due to the Cambodian roads; accordingly, we arrive in Sihanoukville two hours late. About the city: we had read before that Sihanoukville is not exactly the prettiest city and is still under construction, but what we see through the bus windows leaves us speechless. Sihanoukville is, without exaggeration, the ugliest city we have ever seen. 80% of it consists of construction sites for hotels and casinos. The skyline consists exclusively of cranes and unfinished skyscrapers. In addition, it is arbitrarily divided and quite dirty - so it's good that we are only here for the crossing.

The bus regularly stops in the city to let locals get off at their desired stops. A little later, the bus stops and two tuk-tuk drivers enter the vehicle and inform the passengers that if they want to go to Koh Rong by ferry, they need to get off here. Jonna and I exchange looks with the tourist couple next to us and are unsure. After some doubt, we give in and leave the bus. While I get the backpacks, I hear the discussion between the British tourists and the remaining tuk-tuk driver becoming more energetic. It turns out that the two of them, because they have already booked their ferry tickets, need to go to the more southern of the two ferry terminals. The problem now is that the bus would have gone exactly there. The driver insists that their ticket, even though they missed the actual ferry because of the delay, is still valid for another ferry of the same company, but the last one leaves at 3:00 PM (it's 2:30 PM). Jonna and I haven't booked our ferry yet and can therefore also go to the closer terminal, but we feel sorry for the two very nice backpackers and join them. The problem now is that the driver wants $12 for the route that we would have already taken with the bus, which is very frustrating. After a long back and forth, we get fed up and give in.

We drive 25 minutes to the ferry office and are therefore too late for the ferry of the desired company. Somewhat angrily, we say goodbye to the driver, cross the street, and visit the other ferry office, which Jonna and I wanted to take anyway. We book round-trip tickets and then wait together with the Brits, who we get to know a little - a tattoo artist and an employee of an NGO, both very nice and funny (by the way, it's the first time since the start of the trip that we talk to other tourists for more than 5 minutes - admittedly, a bit sad).

After about half an hour, the shuttle bus, which we board with the firm belief that everything will go smoothly, arrives. After five minutes of driving, the route seems extremely familiar and we realize that the bus is going back to the other ferry terminal where we were basically already when we got off the bus / were asked to get off. 'What a fucking joke,' laughs the Brit and we can't help but find it more funny than annoying. It starts to rain during the journey as we haven't experienced it before, which doesn't necessarily have a positive effect on the impression of the city.

After another 25 minutes of driving, we arrive at the terminal. 30 tourists protect their backpacks with rain capes and run panicky through the rain. Once again, we wait for 15 minutes at the very dirty pier.


A young local man joins the group and asks us to come to the 'speed boat'. The gap between the pier and the boat is about a meter wide, which makes boarding a bit difficult, especially with 15 kilograms on your back. Spontaneous group solidarity arises, with the person who has just boarded providing some security by holding on to the person behind them. After a short time, everyone has boarded the boat and we set off. Despite the storm, the sea is relatively calm; nevertheless, you can describe the journey as exciting due to the crazy speed the boat reaches. So 'exciting' that one of the fellow travelers unfortunately can't keep their stomach contents and runs to the railing of the boat.

The sight of the two islands (the larger Koh Rong, the smaller Koh Rong Samloem) is very impressive even in the rain. We talk to the captain briefly to make sure where our stop is. The Brits have to get off one station before us, so we arrange to meet at a beach party that will take place the day after tomorrow. Our station is the next one, which we reach at 6:30 PM. Once again, getting off is adventurous but successful. We drag ourselves and our luggage along the beach to our accommodation 'Reef on the Beach'. We check in at the (FINALLY) well-attended resort and are led to our tent by a woman - Yes, that's right, a tipi with a diameter of about 5 meters. However, we notice several holes from the outside, and when three wasps come towards us from inside after the woman has poured liters of water out of the tent, we ask for a different accommodation, which is guaranteed without any problems. Ten meters away, there is another tent, without holes, dry, and a bit in the shade. We put our things down, go to the restaurant, and have a light meal. It is a bit more expensive because it's touristic and on the island, but very tasty and sufficient (3.25$ for fried noodles with vegetables (8/10) and 2.50$ for fried rice with vegetables (8/10)). Additionally, the accommodation is incredibly cheap (4€ per night), which makes it easier to spend more money on food.

After dinner, we take a walk on the beach during the twilight, discover the lake directly behind the beach, and some other bars. When we return to the tent, we brush our teeth and then want to go to sleep.

... want to.

I'm looking for my phone to charge it, but I can't find it. Not a big deal, it only happens to me 10 times a day. After a ten-minute search, we are pretty sure that it is not in the tent - Shit. We do a test where I put Jonna's mobile phone in my pocket and see if mine may have fallen out. Jonna's phone falls out of my pocket with the slightest movement - Shit!!

I go to the showers and toilets with Jonna's phone as a flashlight because it has gotten very dark. I search the area - nothing! I become noticeably more nervous and decide to walk the route along the beach again (Jonna helps with her headlamp) and ask at the bars if anyone has found a phone - No, there is nothing lying on the beach and the bartenders haven't received anything - Shit!!!

Absolutely desperate, we go back to the tent and imagine what the further journey would be like without a mobile phone: without notes, without direct means of communication, without music. Jonna calls my number and we hope to hear a buzzing sound from somewhere in the tent. The opposite happens; the call doesn't go through, which means either the phone has no reception or it's turned off (broken). However, Jonna's phone has full reception, so we are sure that my phone has been washed away by the waves - Shit!!!! The mood is at an all-time low. With our nerves at the end, I go as a last desperate attempt to our bar and ask the bartender again if anyone has found a phone.


... 'Yes, there was a guy here.'


The news hits me like a shock, and my head falls on the counter. The lady holds back my reaction: 'Wait a minute, maybe it's not yours.' 'When was he here?' I want to know and get the answer '20 minutes ago'. She shows me a photo of the lock screen. It shows Jonna, and I let my head fall back on the counter. She has saved the guy's Facebook data and contacts him immediately. Jonna joins me from the tent and says she got through with a call (it rang). I share the good news with her, and both of us can't believe my luck. I thank the bartender profusely, who shares our euphoria and joins in the joy. While we wait for the man's response, we order two cocktails (2.50$, very tasty!) and the woman behind the counter gives us two shots (actually, I should buy her something). The guy contacts us shortly afterwards and asks for the unlock code (to make sure I'm the owner of the phone), which I immediately pass on. He then tells us that he has handed in the phone at the reception in the resort one kilometer away. We assure him that we will definitely treat him to a drink tomorrow evening and make our way to the other resort. When we arrive there, we have to fight our way through an ongoing party. We go to the reception and explain our situation to the staff member. He retrieves my phone and demands (rightly) that I unlock it. Said and done. The man smiles at us: 'There you go!' We also ask him if he can tell the finder, who happens to be staying at this accommodation, that we would like to thank him.

Completely exhausted from this emotional ordeal, we go back to our tent, holding my phone tightly in my hand, and fall into bed like stones - what a day.

- Alex

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