Pubblicato: 26.11.2019
Once upon a time in Cambodia. 4 men and a woman set off on their way to Krong Strung Treng. A man in his mid-30s ๐จ French ๐ซ๐ท, an equally respected ๐จ๐ฝโ๐ฆฑ Swiss ๐จ๐ญ, a man in his late 50s ๐ด English ๐ด๓ ง๓ ข๓ ฅ๓ ฎ๓ ง๓ ฟ, and two sporty young men in their mid-20s ๐ง๐ผ๐จ๐ป German ๐ฉ๐ช.
With a small ๐ Nissan 10-seater and their experienced driver "Sam" ๐ฐ๐ญ, they collectively covered about 300km of the 440km journey (towards Kratie) on challenging terrain under great weather conditions.
The journey was arduous and slow. Everyone would gladly have checked their eyelids for cracks. But the kind Sam could not, would not, and did not allow such a luxury. He was young and ambitious. He did not feel any of those urges and focused on his driving skills. Headset ๐ง on, comfortable 120ยฐ ๐บ positions. Left hand ๐ค on the handlebars and his beloved horn#๐บ#. Right hand ๐ค on the 5-speed stick shift.
The ๐ด๓ ง๓ ข๓ ฅ๓ ฎ๓ ง๓ ฟ ๐ด, who sat in the passenger seat, wanted to take a nap first. It was an unmistakable signal to Sam. THE NEXT POTHOLES ARE OURS๐
It wasn't hard to find them. The potholes seemed to crowd around the ๐. The ๐ด๓ ง๓ ข๓ ฅ๓ ฎ๓ ง๓ ฟ ๐ด was annoyed. Shock absorbers and Sam seemed to be an unbeatable ๐คฌ team.
Now the first German๐จ๐ป and his Swiss compatriot ๐จ๐ญ ๐จ๐ฝslowly dozed off into the imitation leather seats. Sam was delighted ๐. This way the journey won't be boring. His phone ๐ฑ turned to ๐ง ๐ถ Rammstein for Cambodians, and off they went. He tested it cautiously. #Honk ๐บ# "Can I really not hear my horn ๐บ?" And then he gave it to themโ๐ผ๐๐ผ. It was a cheerful intermezzo. Classical music lovers ๐ถ could sense an opera from it. With abrupt left-right movements of the steering wheel, accompanied by the finest holey asphalt/gravel ๐ง, the heads started to wag to the beat of the #๐บ#. Like little bobbleheads.
In the last row was the ๐จ ๐ซ๐ท. Eyes closed, ๐ง ๐ต head stretched towards the sky, he meditated his way through the situation. Everyone on board thought with envy, "how can he do that?". The French know how to keep their heads out of everything ๐คฃ. Sam didn't seem so happy.
Now came the last joker in Sam's ๐ game. The car and its defective speedometer needle. Here in Cambodia ๐ฐ๐ญ, no one stops you. Sam knows every corner and he made us feel that, and his buttometer is impressive. Almost like that of my father-in-law๐. Sam's passenger, who only knows left-hand traffic, no longer blinked from that moment on. It felt like 130km/h, with the mentioned road surface plus suicidal ๐ ๐ ๐ ๐ ๐ ๐ and like-minded ๐ ๐ ๐ ๐. Hey...that's clear...even a speedometer needle doesn't joke around and says goodbye!!! ๐คข
Sam understood his job. And at exactly 12:15 pm, he delivered the shaken up passengers at the rest area.
Everyone continued to Laos, with SAM๐๐ Only the ๐ฉ๐ช & "SwissBaba" in their mid-60s, a Swiss dropout who came damn close to being an Almรi from India ๐ฎ๐ณ, stayed behind.
From a sparsely populated 10-seater Nissan ๐ it became a 16-seater Ford Transit ๐ with 16 + 2 ๐ถ๐ผ ๐ง international guests. Sam, of course, had brothers ๐ณ, and one of these brothers was named "Nok". He drives damn ๐ก well ๐ ๐คฆ๐ปโโ๏ธ๐คฆ๐ผโโ๏ธ2 hours for just under 120 km.
Well, dear girls, boys, and transgender people. And here our story ends.
And if Sam, Nok, and their brothers don't...they're still driving today ๐ ๐ผโโ๏ธ๐ ๐ปโโ๏ธ
no pictures today, someone always had to hold the bag ๐คฎ๐คฃ
Something small for the funny bones had to be done....
*1-2 pictures will actually come ๐