Thursday, March 20, 2008

Cambodia one

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when in asia please be advised that most ceilings are lower than what we are accustomed to. i learned this lesson as i boarded my fishing/transport boat off of phu quoc island yesterday. so not only did all forty pairs of eyes get to stare at my crazy hair and weird wide eyes but also at the blood dripping down my face following the loud thump that turned their heads in the first place. after the initial misfortune, the three hour ride was actually quite pleasant. i would say quiet but for the majority of the voyage i was involved in a fierce hand gun war with a six year old boy. from there a quit moto-bike ride to the border in the pouring rain. the adrenaline rush of riding through a thunderstorm on the back of a moto-bike headed for the cambodian border is one that i would highly recommend. nothing could wipe the smile from my face, not even the denial of my visa at the border. because this was an infrequently used border crossing they didn't see any reason to install internet capabilities (can you imagine life without this blog) therefore they were unable to verify the validity of my e-visa. after a meeting with the military colonel in his office with his two henchmen on either side of him armed with very large sub machine guns and a lot of glaring me up and down and jabbering in cambodian they decided that i would have to reapply. i guess i wasn't dressed well enough for the interview. no big deal, twenty minutes later i am through. i jump on the back of another moto-bike and head to a town called kampot, about 75km away. riding the distance between washington, dc and baltimore on the back of a moto-bike for about three hours can be a painful experience. defication may be delayed for a day or two. the open air ride through the country side of southern cambodia was amazing. farmlands with small villages as far as the eye can see. kampot turns out to be a cool little town on the river and i think that i will stay for a couple days, very quiet and hardly any tourists. my relationship with with mr. long, the hostel's owner got off to a little bit of a rough start after i broke my key off in the lock. no locksmith until tomorrow so i slept in the lobby with his three grandsons who treated the matter as a sleepover party. i feel like i'm eleven years old again. cows wander the streets at night.

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