Showing posts with label kampot. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kampot. Show all posts
Thursday, 17 January 2013
Wednesday, 16 January 2013
Kampot, la suite
I think Jen hadn't even hit the floor that Ben and I were beside her. We saw that she was mostly ok - she wasn't going very fast. Blood stains were already on her shirt though, from a small gash on her chin about 2 inches across.
She was mostly laughing about it and complaining faintly about the pain. Through the light of our smartphones we inspected the gash and saw that it was dirty.
"Is it bad?" Asked Ben.
"I've seen much worst" I answered, thinking about the injuries i've seen on my dare-devil and/or drunken friends or myself. "Look, it's like manta ray mouth!"
"It's not funny you geeks!" Complainded Jen.
"Ok, I'll check the scooter, see if we can drive it back, I'll clean you up with my first-aid kit. Did you hit your head?"
"No, I don't think so"
"You have two mouths now!" Exclaimed Ben.
"Three" I added.
"You two are assholes! Can we go?"
After a quick inspection, I saw that the left brake was not working anymore and the front wheel was a little shaky. Thankfully the guesthouse was only a minute away. We crammed on the scooter, Jen in the middle so that Ben could hold her.
Back in the room we cleaned up her Cambodian souvenir as best we could and realised that it was a pretty deep cut... Jem changed in clean clothes while we looked for a hospital or a clinic on the city map. Thankfully it was along a road we were used to.
We packed books and beers in case this would take long. I put my headlamp on since Ben's motorbike lamp wasn't working, and drove to the clinic.
It is at around 2am that Ben rang the bell, installed next to a door made of sliding metal bars, same ones we see protecting stores. A drowzy nurse walked slowly towards us and opened the doors a few feet. Jenny half explained and half mimed her accident and showed her the gash.
"Oooonh" was all the nurse said, which seemed to mean "poor girl..." And opened the door large enough for her and Ben to walk in. They put her on a stretcher, Ben walking next to her, and I opened a beer while looking at the stars outside.
Abiut fifteen minutes and $30 later she re-emmerged, cleaned up, sowed up, chin-strap and all. We got back on the scooter and went to bed. I told Jenny she shouldn't sleep in case she got a concution - she did seem a little slow to answer, bu that could have been the beer and the late hour of the night.
The next morning Ben and Jen decided to stay a day longer in Kampot to let her rest, and offered to pay my share of the room. "It's not fair for you to pay because of me" she explained.
We had a very quiet day, eating and reading. We returned the scooters expecting a hefty ransom having heard the horror stories of Koh Pagnam, but Ben walked away with an $8 dollar bill.
We did go to a french pastry store we stumbled upon a few days back. A huge man in his sixties with a great round belly, giant forearms, and a mouth that barely opened when he talked greeted us, tellin us this place had the best pie he ever tasted.
Next time you see me, ask me to immitate him. Ben and I decided that he was a Tolkien dwarf in real life.
He asked us where we came from. When I said Canada he smiled and said Quebec right away, and I showed him my Canadiens belt buckle to confirm.
"Ooooh the Habs! Loved them when I was a boy. Had a lot of their stuff. They were unstopable back when all the frenchmen played for them. Rocket Richard and Big Bill and Boom Boom Geoffrion and Jack Plante. They won the cup 5 times in a row they did, more than once I believe. Yes. This place here, opened by the cook's parents. They came from China 60 years ago. Some frenchman from France showed them how to cook. The pie here, best I ever had, just like home. You cannot leave without eating it"
He was from Saskatchewan, and seemed to be sitting at a table of the little restaurant every single hour of the day, talking with someone.
The day after that we got on a bus that took us to Sihanoukville, the next chapter of my Cambodian journey.
She was mostly laughing about it and complaining faintly about the pain. Through the light of our smartphones we inspected the gash and saw that it was dirty.
"Is it bad?" Asked Ben.
"I've seen much worst" I answered, thinking about the injuries i've seen on my dare-devil and/or drunken friends or myself. "Look, it's like manta ray mouth!"
"It's not funny you geeks!" Complainded Jen.
"Ok, I'll check the scooter, see if we can drive it back, I'll clean you up with my first-aid kit. Did you hit your head?"
"No, I don't think so"
"You have two mouths now!" Exclaimed Ben.
"Three" I added.
"You two are assholes! Can we go?"
After a quick inspection, I saw that the left brake was not working anymore and the front wheel was a little shaky. Thankfully the guesthouse was only a minute away. We crammed on the scooter, Jen in the middle so that Ben could hold her.
Back in the room we cleaned up her Cambodian souvenir as best we could and realised that it was a pretty deep cut... Jem changed in clean clothes while we looked for a hospital or a clinic on the city map. Thankfully it was along a road we were used to.
We packed books and beers in case this would take long. I put my headlamp on since Ben's motorbike lamp wasn't working, and drove to the clinic.
It is at around 2am that Ben rang the bell, installed next to a door made of sliding metal bars, same ones we see protecting stores. A drowzy nurse walked slowly towards us and opened the doors a few feet. Jenny half explained and half mimed her accident and showed her the gash.
"Oooonh" was all the nurse said, which seemed to mean "poor girl..." And opened the door large enough for her and Ben to walk in. They put her on a stretcher, Ben walking next to her, and I opened a beer while looking at the stars outside.
Abiut fifteen minutes and $30 later she re-emmerged, cleaned up, sowed up, chin-strap and all. We got back on the scooter and went to bed. I told Jenny she shouldn't sleep in case she got a concution - she did seem a little slow to answer, bu that could have been the beer and the late hour of the night.
The next morning Ben and Jen decided to stay a day longer in Kampot to let her rest, and offered to pay my share of the room. "It's not fair for you to pay because of me" she explained.
We had a very quiet day, eating and reading. We returned the scooters expecting a hefty ransom having heard the horror stories of Koh Pagnam, but Ben walked away with an $8 dollar bill.
We did go to a french pastry store we stumbled upon a few days back. A huge man in his sixties with a great round belly, giant forearms, and a mouth that barely opened when he talked greeted us, tellin us this place had the best pie he ever tasted.
Next time you see me, ask me to immitate him. Ben and I decided that he was a Tolkien dwarf in real life.
He asked us where we came from. When I said Canada he smiled and said Quebec right away, and I showed him my Canadiens belt buckle to confirm.
"Ooooh the Habs! Loved them when I was a boy. Had a lot of their stuff. They were unstopable back when all the frenchmen played for them. Rocket Richard and Big Bill and Boom Boom Geoffrion and Jack Plante. They won the cup 5 times in a row they did, more than once I believe. Yes. This place here, opened by the cook's parents. They came from China 60 years ago. Some frenchman from France showed them how to cook. The pie here, best I ever had, just like home. You cannot leave without eating it"
He was from Saskatchewan, and seemed to be sitting at a table of the little restaurant every single hour of the day, talking with someone.
The day after that we got on a bus that took us to Sihanoukville, the next chapter of my Cambodian journey.
Saturday, 12 January 2013
De Rabbit Island à Kampot
That morning I lazily woke up, put my swimming suit on, groggily walked to the hutt that serves as a restaurant a few meters away, and ordered a banana shake. While the girls were preparing it I walked into the sea until the waves lapped at my natural thermometer and swam until I ran out of breath - didn't take long since I was slightly hungover.
Walking out of the sea, slurping on my shake, I fall into a hammock and go back to my book. About an hour later I am roused from George R.R. Martin's lifetime achievement by a familiar whistle.
Ben and Jen finally made it on the island!
Handshakes and hugs and laughs. Beer and swimming and more laughs. The day seemes to go by quickly. We tried to go on a trekk around the island but the trails were too shitty so after finding proper walking sticks and giving them an origin, we decided to go explore on the rocks that line the shore, the part I hadn't seen.
Little crabs scurry away as we walk by like towering clumsy pink giants. We found a nice big rock jutting out of the water and climbed it. All around it the shallow waters were teeming with life. Crabs big like a fist would swim away and hide underneath rocks. As we were hunting them actively with our sticks we chanced upon a tiny orange octopus.
We tried to corner it and let out a "WHOAAAA" when it suddenly attached itself to a rock and camouflaged her skin into the EXACT same color.
Really cool. I love octopus even more now. We played with it for about 15 minutes, until it was exhausted. Then we let it rest under a rock.
We met the night under the roof of a wall-less hutt, each on our own hammock, The Pogues playing out of my speakers. Ben had a bottle of Samsong (Thaï Rum) so we tackled that in between 75-cent beers.
A huge fly landed near us, half its body torn away, her eyes as big as the nail on a pinky. It was dazed enough for us to take super-macro pictures of it. We went to our respective beds around 1am (not the fly - it probably died).
The next day was composed of a somewhat hungover trip to Kampot, where we found a room to share in a guesthouse that greeted you with a free beer and free pétanque (oui!).
We took it easy that night, Jen went to bed early while me and Ben drank some draughts and played games on our iPods
The next morning when I woke up I didn't think that I was about to face one of the coolest days of my trip - so far. I wanted to check out the "bat-filled cave" out of town, so after our breakfast we rented some scooters and went on our merry way.
The streets of beloved Montréal have the ill reputation of being as defiled as the acne-ridden face of a pulpous teenager, but they are nothing compared to the red-sand dirt roads of rural cambodia. Driving on these proves mentally taxing as you are constantly watching for children, dogs, chicken, other vehicules, and huge holes that might - and will- cause you to crash.
We soon passed a tiny village made out of tin-roofed shacks, drove under a buddhist gate towards a pile of rocks where an 18-year old Khmer named "Say-yaaaa" offered to guide us through, and good thing we did hire him. While the cave was not that big nor clostrophobic, we had to crawl up and down cramped holes and cracks - and did see some bats.
After the cave our guide proposed that he take us to "Secret Lake", which we accepted after snapping a few pictures of his village. He offered to drive my scooter for me and I let him, and I was not disapointed. He drove through the countryside at a pace I never would have braved.
We finally get to the lake, which is a man-made reservoir that Pol Pot had ordered built in the 70s, and many cambodians died to make it happen. We chilled under yet another hammock-hutt and ate some noodles before driving further out to a pepper plantation.
Kampot pepper is renowned for its taste and is apparently very popular in french restaurants. 8-feet high brick towers are built in rows and the plant grows against it under the taxing Cambodian sky.
We soon had to go back so that our guide wouldn't be late for his evening english class. I jokingly asked if we could come with him and he was very happy to invite us, and so about 2 hours later I found myself standing in a classroom reading a notebook to a class of twenty to teach them proper pronunciation.
The teacher also asked me, Ben and Jen to go sit with groups and engage in discussions with them, but most were too shy to reply to my inquiries.
After a very fun hour of this we followed our guide back to his house where he himself thought the children of his village the alphabet, to count, and the days of the week - for free. We had previously bought pens and candy for everyone and the women of the village were very grateful.
We tolerated all we could of this ultra-cuteness and went back to Kampoy. After having eaten a traditional ramen-and-eggs meal at our guide's grandfather's restaurant we went back to our guesthoue to get proper smashed.
There we met Julien and Raphaelle, 2 people I met in Phnom Penh. Turns out they bought their own tuk-tuk! We played some pétanque and smoked some to celebrate, while drinking cheap Angkor drafts.
At around midnight Jen decided she needed some sleep, so me and Ben set out on my scooter to find some water - Ben's scooter light wasn't working. We found a bar instead, and before buying anymore beer Ben turned to me and said "I think we should go get Jen". Little did we know how that sentence was about to make this day even more memorable.
Drive back slightly affected to get Jen, the 3 of us on the same bike asian style, get to the bar and drink more, dance with a very smooth, very old and very drunk cambodian, until we decide to ditch this loud bar infested with pot-smokers.
On the careful way back we find trampolines and can't resist the temptation to give it a go. There's 4 of them, but as I'm climbing into mine I notice there's people living underneath! Possibly the owners, dozing in a hammock, sheltered by their most prize possesssions.
In a fit of adrenalyn, Jen - who'se never driven a scooterbike before - decides that it is the perfect time to give it a try since the streets are empty. With her drunken courage she mounted the metal beast, and after Ben showed her the brakes and the gas, she rode off.
A few seconds later and she was back, having driven around the block skillfully with a huge smile on her face. Her second lap would not go so well however... She took the corner too large, forgot to let go of the gas when she braked, hit the sidewalk...
We soon witnessed her do a beautiful swan dive off the motorbike, hitting her chin on the ground.
We sobered up pretty fast after this.
The rest very soon, my loyal subjects!
Walking out of the sea, slurping on my shake, I fall into a hammock and go back to my book. About an hour later I am roused from George R.R. Martin's lifetime achievement by a familiar whistle.
Ben and Jen finally made it on the island!
Handshakes and hugs and laughs. Beer and swimming and more laughs. The day seemes to go by quickly. We tried to go on a trekk around the island but the trails were too shitty so after finding proper walking sticks and giving them an origin, we decided to go explore on the rocks that line the shore, the part I hadn't seen.
Little crabs scurry away as we walk by like towering clumsy pink giants. We found a nice big rock jutting out of the water and climbed it. All around it the shallow waters were teeming with life. Crabs big like a fist would swim away and hide underneath rocks. As we were hunting them actively with our sticks we chanced upon a tiny orange octopus.
We tried to corner it and let out a "WHOAAAA" when it suddenly attached itself to a rock and camouflaged her skin into the EXACT same color.
Really cool. I love octopus even more now. We played with it for about 15 minutes, until it was exhausted. Then we let it rest under a rock.
We met the night under the roof of a wall-less hutt, each on our own hammock, The Pogues playing out of my speakers. Ben had a bottle of Samsong (Thaï Rum) so we tackled that in between 75-cent beers.
A huge fly landed near us, half its body torn away, her eyes as big as the nail on a pinky. It was dazed enough for us to take super-macro pictures of it. We went to our respective beds around 1am (not the fly - it probably died).
The next day was composed of a somewhat hungover trip to Kampot, where we found a room to share in a guesthouse that greeted you with a free beer and free pétanque (oui!).
We took it easy that night, Jen went to bed early while me and Ben drank some draughts and played games on our iPods
The next morning when I woke up I didn't think that I was about to face one of the coolest days of my trip - so far. I wanted to check out the "bat-filled cave" out of town, so after our breakfast we rented some scooters and went on our merry way.
The streets of beloved Montréal have the ill reputation of being as defiled as the acne-ridden face of a pulpous teenager, but they are nothing compared to the red-sand dirt roads of rural cambodia. Driving on these proves mentally taxing as you are constantly watching for children, dogs, chicken, other vehicules, and huge holes that might - and will- cause you to crash.
We soon passed a tiny village made out of tin-roofed shacks, drove under a buddhist gate towards a pile of rocks where an 18-year old Khmer named "Say-yaaaa" offered to guide us through, and good thing we did hire him. While the cave was not that big nor clostrophobic, we had to crawl up and down cramped holes and cracks - and did see some bats.
After the cave our guide proposed that he take us to "Secret Lake", which we accepted after snapping a few pictures of his village. He offered to drive my scooter for me and I let him, and I was not disapointed. He drove through the countryside at a pace I never would have braved.
We finally get to the lake, which is a man-made reservoir that Pol Pot had ordered built in the 70s, and many cambodians died to make it happen. We chilled under yet another hammock-hutt and ate some noodles before driving further out to a pepper plantation.
Kampot pepper is renowned for its taste and is apparently very popular in french restaurants. 8-feet high brick towers are built in rows and the plant grows against it under the taxing Cambodian sky.
We soon had to go back so that our guide wouldn't be late for his evening english class. I jokingly asked if we could come with him and he was very happy to invite us, and so about 2 hours later I found myself standing in a classroom reading a notebook to a class of twenty to teach them proper pronunciation.
The teacher also asked me, Ben and Jen to go sit with groups and engage in discussions with them, but most were too shy to reply to my inquiries.
After a very fun hour of this we followed our guide back to his house where he himself thought the children of his village the alphabet, to count, and the days of the week - for free. We had previously bought pens and candy for everyone and the women of the village were very grateful.
We tolerated all we could of this ultra-cuteness and went back to Kampoy. After having eaten a traditional ramen-and-eggs meal at our guide's grandfather's restaurant we went back to our guesthoue to get proper smashed.
There we met Julien and Raphaelle, 2 people I met in Phnom Penh. Turns out they bought their own tuk-tuk! We played some pétanque and smoked some to celebrate, while drinking cheap Angkor drafts.
At around midnight Jen decided she needed some sleep, so me and Ben set out on my scooter to find some water - Ben's scooter light wasn't working. We found a bar instead, and before buying anymore beer Ben turned to me and said "I think we should go get Jen". Little did we know how that sentence was about to make this day even more memorable.
Drive back slightly affected to get Jen, the 3 of us on the same bike asian style, get to the bar and drink more, dance with a very smooth, very old and very drunk cambodian, until we decide to ditch this loud bar infested with pot-smokers.
On the careful way back we find trampolines and can't resist the temptation to give it a go. There's 4 of them, but as I'm climbing into mine I notice there's people living underneath! Possibly the owners, dozing in a hammock, sheltered by their most prize possesssions.
In a fit of adrenalyn, Jen - who'se never driven a scooterbike before - decides that it is the perfect time to give it a try since the streets are empty. With her drunken courage she mounted the metal beast, and after Ben showed her the brakes and the gas, she rode off.
A few seconds later and she was back, having driven around the block skillfully with a huge smile on her face. Her second lap would not go so well however... She took the corner too large, forgot to let go of the gas when she braked, hit the sidewalk...
We soon witnessed her do a beautiful swan dive off the motorbike, hitting her chin on the ground.
We sobered up pretty fast after this.
The rest very soon, my loyal subjects!
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