Tag 53 - shocked

06/22/19

Today we leave the paradise with heavy hearts. Our alarm goes off at 07:30 am and we have already packed our things yesterday. So we just pack our backpacks and go to the reception. We order English breakfast, coffee, and pay our bill. After 12 days of stay (the longest so far), we leave the camp and walk along the beach to the ferry terminal.

We wait there for half an hour and then, in another daring maneuver, get on the ferry. Fully convinced that the ride will start soon, we sit down on a seat by the guardrail. Nothing happens for half an hour - questioning looks are exchanged.

A short while later, you can see a group of about 30 Vietnamese tourists leisurely stroll to the boat at the foot of the pier. The Cambodian passengers gossip about their prejudiced neighbors - apparently they are not so fond of each other. We are a little influenced by the dislike and cannot help but find the appearance of the Vietnamese tourists quite arrogant. With a delay of one hour, the boat sets sail.

The bus office on the island, which we visited in the last few days to book a bus ticket from Sihanoukville (the ugly coastal city) to Phnom Penh (capital), had chosen a ride at 12:30 pm for us. The built-in buffer has disappeared into thin air due to the delay - we arrive at the pier when our bus is supposed to depart. Despite the efforts of a crew member who knew about our time pressure and wanted us to be the first off the boat, we lose valuable minutes again as the Vietnamese push their way out without consideration - surely not all of them are like that.

A little disoriented, we find the shuttle to the other pier after a short search, where most buses depart (the confusion with the different piers caught us by surprise last time). We leave the shuttle and arrive at the agreed pick-up point with a significant delay at 12:45 pm. An employee from a travel company assures us, to our great surprise, that our bus will pick us up in 10 to 15 minutes - you can always rely on Southeast Asian punctuality. Fifteen minutes later, a young bus driver picks us up and we sit in his converted van with four Swiss women.

We secure the back seat and enjoy the air conditioning. On our way north, we pick up locals standing by the roadside again and again, so that the bus is completely full after a couple of hours. The ride is, just like the journey there, extremely slow due to the road between Sihanoukville and Phnom Penh (like all roads in Cambodia) being one big traffic jam. But we realize it is a true traffic jam 15 kilometers before Phnom Penh when nothing moves at all. In the worst phase, we only manage to cover 50 meters in an hour. It is absolute chaos: a three-lane road is used by six vehicles side by side (in one direction); even the opposite lane is simply annexed. In addition, a child, right next to us (2 years old), has finally lost its nerves after three hours in the traffic jam. We try to calm the child down with a cartoon and cookies, which works for a short time, but later proves ineffective; we have great understanding for the reactions of the little one. However, we have less understanding for its mother, who, completely overwhelmed by the situation, eventually becomes physical. During our time on Koh Rong, we have witnessed several times that children are treated much more roughly than we are used to. Just before we lose respect for the culture and want to intervene by taking the child to us (the mother pushes the boy against the window; he screams), the mother decides to leave the bus. When getting off the bus, the child receives a slap from a stranger - it makes us boil with anger.

One by one, everyone else also leaves the bus, which has been stationary for quite some time, and tries to get to the city by tuk-tuk. We also consider it; however, the distance to the city is still too far and we are not in a hurry. So we are the last ones in the vehicle after a while and, after passing the cause of the traffic jam (a kind of fair), we arrive in Phnom Penh at 10:00 pm - the scheduled arrival time would have been 5:00 pm.

We scrape together our remaining riel and pay a tuk-tuk driver (€1.50) to take us to our accommodation. Although it is only a 30-minute walk, it turns out that we made the right decision when it starts pouring rain after two minutes of driving. Arriving at the hostel, we bring our luggage inside in the rain, while the driver tries to convince us to take a trip to the Killing Fields - we had planned to see them anyway. However, at this moment, our exhausted and strained minds do not allow us to discuss a departure time. We postpone it to later days.

We check in and fortunately do not get a windowless room without a bathroom (as booked), but a cozy room with a garden view and our own toilet. After taking a quick shower, we fall flat on the bed.

- Jonna & Alex