On to Cambodia: Trains, Tuktuks, Buses and Motos

When it was time to leave Bangkok, I walked to the train station at 5:30 in the morning and purchased a ticket to Aranya Prathet, the Thai town along the Cambodian border. I boarded the third class train, a grungy vehicle with dusty fans and hard seats, and we pulled away from the station before daybreak. It was a six hour journey to the border, passing through the hazy central plains of Thailand, full of green fields and the occasional smoldering pile of waste sending smoke into the air. I succeeded in sleeping on and off throughout the journey.

At last we reached the small town of Aranya Prathet around noon. A gang of tuktuk drivers began shouting at the few backpackers in the train, making offers to take us to the border. Based on my reading of my travel guide and past border experience, I knew this was a situation ripe for trouble. Nonetheless I negotiated a price with a tuktuk driver to take me the few miles to the Cambodian border crossing. He drove me for a few minutes before turning off at an inconspicuous side street and pulling up to a place where the sign read "Cambodian Visa Office". This was clearly not the border and I asked to driver to take me the rest of the way. One of the "Cambodian officials"came out to greet me and asked me to step inside. "Is this the border?" I asked. He responded that it was. The discussion went on for a few minutes, as I kept one foot in the tuktuk. I calmly refused to buy into the scam and pleaded with the driver to take me the rest of the way to the border. Presumably, these people give you a Cambodian visa at an inflated price, that may or may not be accepted by the real Cambodian officials. Finally he relented, and I, feeling proud of myself for so deftly defying this scam, whizzed on to the border.

This was a frantic crossing, as it is the most highly traveled of any of the Thai land borders. I stood in a series of long lines, first to get checked out of Thailand, after which I crossed through the duty-free zone to wait and get my Cambodian visa, at which point I proceeded to another line to get my new visa stamped. Simultaneously, it started pouring down rain outside.

Finally I was through customs and into Cambodia, though now the task was to get out of the dirty casino town that is Poipet. The travelers here are smartly herded like sheep onto government-condoned shuttle buses that take you a couple kilometers to the "tourist bus station". There I purchased my ticket to Battambang at the inflated price (still only ten dollars; yes, they use the almighty US dollar in Cambodia, and for fractions of a dollar they use the Cambodian currency, so no coins). Again I managed to sleep sporadically as the bus stopped many times along the road to pick up locals and drove maniacally down the small highway, overtaking motorbikes, tractors, and trucks. I enjoyed the view of rural Cambodia and the torrential thunderstorm that raged outside.

Two hours later the bus arrived in the small city of Battambang, which is the second largest in the nation. I found my way to a hotel in the town center where for $5.00 per night, I had a large bed, fan, private bathroom, and cable TV. The rest of the evening I walked around downtown, getting a cheap meal at the market (fried chicken with rice and some soup), as I had not eaten all day, and enjoyed a bottle of Cambodia's own Angor Beer. I went to be early after this tiring day of travel, about 11 hours in total.


The next day I felt a bit adventurous, and decided to try my hand at motorbiking through the surrounding countryside. I rented a small Honda with four manual gears, and the motorbike guy gave me a quick outline of how to operate this beast. I gave him the six dollars that he charged for a full day of motorbiking fun, filled up the tank with a couple liters of gas, and was off towards some temples, 28 km to the south, tourist map in hand.

Now say what you will about the lack of wisdom in driving a motorcycle for the first time, in a foreign country where the road are a free-for-all, but this was THE WAY to see Cambodia. I followed the narrow strip of unpainted asphalt for half an hour, passing small villages with stilted homes, wedding parties with music blasting, and the daily life of the Cambodian countryside. I went to two temples in the south, one being a modest ruin at the top end of 356 stairs (I counted), and the other being a modern concrete structure atop a limestone outcropping.


Just a few hundred meters from here was one of the many location where the army brutes of the Khmer Rouge, a brutal dictatorship of the 1970's, carried out some of their executions. It is a large limestone cave with a skylight that provided a suitable place of disposal for the bodies.


Traveling back through Battambang, I headed north, this time along the river, where the villages seemed more water-based. All homes here were on stilts, which is useful in avoiding flooding in the wet season. Between the homes is lush jungle greenery. I came to another ruin, which as ruins go was not too impressive. I ended up riding around all day seeing various ruins, though the real sight to see were the villages I passed through. Here I received an unfiltered view of rural Cambodia, and aside from a moderate sunburn and some bugs in the mouth, I came out of the experience unscathed.


That night, after returning the hog, I explored downtown on foot some more and had a couple nice meals. I purchased my ticket to depart by boat to Siem Reap the next morning (where I am writing from) and again went to bed early for the 6:30 a.m. departure.

Battambang and its surrounding villages presented me with my best memories on this trip thus far, though the events of the next day would take the cake. That, however, will have to wait until the next chapter: Riverboat to Siem Reap