12.06.2004

Koh Kong

Posted by justin

A few days ago. Monsoon. Showers and the like. Restless, we were.

Today. We decided to leave Koh Chang. A transportational hop-skip-and-jump found us at Trat -> Hat Lek -> the border with Cambodia.

The 100 baht mini-bus journey from Trat led down an ever-narrowing strip of Thai land - the Cambodian border reaching hungrily down to the sea until the Thai side barely had enough room to squeeze a road through. Hat Lek is the final border town on the south east of Thailand.

Passports stamped. Exit country left - through the military checkpoint (easily confused with a permanent army-fatigues-themed slumber party). Ten metres across no-mans land (except for all the touts) and we were in Cambodia. Ushered towards the "health-check" room by a helpful tout with an eye to a future dolla amerika.

Inside a brusque old man hands over a SARS clearance form to fill out. As someone has already observed - he can tell you don't have SARS by looking in your wallet. The going rate for this little scam is now 100 baht a pop. We knew we didn't have to pay but ended up paying 50 baht each. What the heck! The touts leaning through the window of course encouraged this, and in a country so poor we weren't about to waste time arguing. It was getting late. We just wanted our little blue books stamped and stapled and flicked through and finished with.

On to the visa room. Officially $20 USD (800 baht). Unofficially 1100 baht. If you demand to pay USD you will eventually succeed - but they will work at the speed of bank tellers and send for approval to Phnom Penh via carrier pigeons. Did I mention it was getting dark? We didn't want to argue so we argued - we smiled and disagreed and renegotiated - how about 1000 baht? Smile. Wait.

The commanding officer grunted-and-scowled-and-huffed-and-agreed. Immediately four of the six other desk commandos jump into action and transform into processing machines. Thump. Flip, flip,flip! Stamp. Slap. Done. Except one more clearance certificate. Three forms filled out and we're finally finished. Probably with alliteration too.

Anyway five minutes later and we agree to pay 100 baht to taxi it past the new Casino, across the new bridge, and into the low-down-dirty smugglers port of Krung Koh Kong for the night.

And here I am, sitting in a room of the all-wood-and-varnish, solid-and-clean Koh Kong Guesthouse. It's right next to the pier where we will catch the 8am speedboat to Sihanoukville tomorrow.

But right now I'm next to the window our host advised to keep closed: "Be careful. Sometimes rocks thrown. Not many, but some." The flyscreen with the punched-through holes is the only weary corroborator - not that I needed another witness. I take his word, and pull the curtains.

The featured artwork for our room is an unbranded laptop ad circa...whenever they were built like bricks, with a traditional full-denim, eighties-American reclining in a chair to receive a kiss from his beloved. Ah, how's the serenity...

Back downstairs Steve the little mad Irishmen takes us on a tour of dirty, dimly-lit streets to his favourite chow so we can. Used to make his money logging in Cambodia. (How does he make it now?) Interested in grand conspiracies. (I'm less interested than usual.) Steve seems to be staying here longer than the legitimate side of Koh Kong would allow.

We walk the loop of Koh Kong past the Ya Ba kids high on amphetamines, sitting in little plastic chairs on the streets awash in the tv-blue glow of some passably interesting flick. As we walk by the movie finishes, and for a moment it seems they're rushing us - but they just hop on their moto bikes and putter off into the night.

We walk off too - back to the guesthouse as Steve dishes out local commentary and animal-handling advice - don't. After dark dogs have a penchant for roaming in packs and get braver as the night wears on.

We just get tired and crash into bed, staring at the flyscreen.