So here is an aspect of travelling on a budget that takes some getting used to. Sure on a general holiday you hop a flight, board at A, disembark at B and voila, Bob is your proverbial uncle. I won't go in to the translation of that phrase or those from a non-British disposition, just trust me, it's a good thing.
It is a pricey passtime though. When you move around at the rate required to undertake a journey such as this, flying is a habit that defies boundaries of budget and practicality. Thankfully when the locations you are travelling between do not find themselves divided by vast oceans, overland travel becomes an entirely viable means of transportation. I mean, you can just drive between countries! All you have to do is make a little stop at the border to get your visa and you are on your way once more. So as you all know, I, at this point in the journey, am now an intrepid and established traveller. I am ready to embrace inter-country journies and all the border burdens that go along with the process. How hard can it be? And at only 300 baht, why that is hardly more than a 5 pounds! What a bargain.....
Soooooo this is the story of my exodus from Thailand to Cambodia.
Wake up. Its 6 am. Bus leaves at 6.30. Perfect. Finish packing, shower, dress, refresh. Off to a good start.
Its 7 am. The bus arrives. My fellow travel buddy for this journey is already on board. We get on our way. A brief snack stop ensues before the ferry crossing. The morning breeze aboard the ship wafts us gently onwards. The island disappears as the mainland draws ever closer.
I sleep for a large chunk of the ensuing journey. A couple of hours through the Thai countryside, passing fields, mountains and oddly frequent groups of small Thai children surrounding one chubby child. There seems to be one in every community. No idea why.
So we keep going and before we know, the bus pulls over and the driver announces that we are here. And in such good time. We're here! We're at the border! We're at...wait....isn't that a cafe? The border is a cafe? Between two big countries? Seems kinda informal...
So we are in fact not at the border. We are near the border. The bus has gone. But we need not fear. We are in safe hands. He explains that these are his friends. He seems like a nice guy, im sure they will look after us. I mean look at all those other confused looking western faces eating small plates of over priced Pad Thai. This is clearly a caring bunch.
Turns out they will even sort our visa out for us. We simply fill in the immigration forms and they take care of the rest for us and all for the low, low price of...Forty dollars? Isn't that double the normal price of a visa? But It makes the process quicker though apparently. But I am not in a rush. But the new tour operator is. But I can just be dropped at the border, sort my own visa out and meet the bus on the other side. But the bus may not wait for me on the other side. And I don't want to be left at the border. I may have been under the impression that my transportation from this point to my ultimate destination is his problem but he assures me, it is not.
I eventually get it down to thirty dollars which is hardly breaking the bank and genuinely does expedite the process. There is no longer a long wait on the Thai side of the border. So we get on another bus and drive 10 minutes down the road to the actual border. The official, not-at-all-resembling-a-cafe border. Here we meet our guide. He will take us on our way. He takes us past the long line of people waiting. And through the car park. And past the barbed wire. And around the murkey sewage strewn trench. And...where the hell are we actually going?
Well me make it to the passport office. Safe and sound. We get another fantastic bargain of an offer. Apparently in Cambodia, they are a mean country. They like to rip off tourists for currency exchange. Not like this kind fellow. He wants us all to have the opportunity of making a great deal. We can change all our horrible old Thai baht in to delightful Cambodian riehl. And wouldn't you know it, he has a friend just over the road operating a currency exchange service with the best rates in town. What are the odds? These Thai people sure do have a lot of friends.
Already safe in the knowledge that Cambodia operates almost entirely on the currency of the US dollar and that, as it happens, Cambodian riehl is one of the few world currencies less valuable than monopoly money, I politely declined his offer. So once more we move on, get through the Thai immigration control and cross the bridge in to no mans land.
No mans land I believe is Latin for Do Whatever The Hell You Want, so you find yourself passing liquor, casinos and hookers in abundance. Kinda like Vegas when you think about it. Taking another bus across this landscape, we find ourselves at the Cambodian side of the border. Here the lines are longer and the officials even less enthusiastic to welcome us to their country. We continue diligently through the line, I have lost all sense of what time it is. It is very hot. I have made it though. I am actually in Cambodia! I have...no I don't want to buy cigarettes off you. No, honestly i'm fine. Yes im sure its a great deal. No I don't want to buy your liquor either. No, look please I am just waiting for my bus. I don't want to buy anything. Honestly.
5 minutes of hassle later. We board our next bus. For anyone who wonders where their ancient school busses go to die after they are ruled unfit for human transportation, the answer is Cambodia. We are once more on our way, finally heading for our destination and...oh wait, we have stopped again.
Another bus station, another bus, another start, another stop. The final stop before our destination. This time at another cafe. For an hour. If anyone is wondering where to find it, just look between the 56th billboard for Angkor beer and the 27th mini mart with no customers in it, the one surrounded by empty wildernes, just next to the half naked cambodian child trying to get his partially sunk bike out of the water logged crater. You can't miss it.
We eventually set off for the last time along the same long road/sand and gravel track where a road might one day be, and set a course for Siem Reap. Half delerious from heat and culture shock we entered the city limits, got off the bus, changed transportation once more and boarded a tuk-tuk (think the bastard offspring forged in an illicit menage-au-tois between a motorbike, a horse cart and an enthusiastic street vendor) and finally reached the heart of the city and our hostel.
We disembarked, I surveyed my surroundings, breathed a huge sigh of relief and thought
'We have made it!'
'What the hell do we now...??'
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