Angkor What?

My trip through Cambodia started off on precarious footing. I had been in contact with some family of my mother's colleague who were in Phnom Penh to show me around. However, in communicating, I had gotten the name of the bus company I was taking from Vietnam wrong and the bus had been late. Luckily, I had the phone number of my host, Kheng, handy and gave him a buzz. We eventually connected, and spent the next few days touring Phnom Penh with two of his cousins.

After arrival, we found a hotel for me and then were off to Wat Phnom, a famous hilltop temple in the center of the city. We followed this with my first western food in ages--pizza--in the heart of Phnom Penh. After what amounted to a long day, we called it quits early.

The next day we started early to the Tuol Sleng Museum, home of the infamous S-21 detention and torture site of the Khmer Rouge. If not chilling enough, we followed this with a trip to the Killing Fields outside of Phnom Penh. Here the Khmer Rouge would send the prisoners of centers like S-21 to be killed in their brutal attempt at social reengineering that cost the lives of 2 million Cambodians between 1975-1979. The devastation of this time in Cambodian history, I would come to find out, is still vivid in the minds of the eelder generation and a very important part of Cambodian culture. Children separated from parents, husbands separated from wives, millions moved out of cities and into the country to be worked morning to night in an effort to revamp Camobian rice production to create a fully self sufficient Cambodia. The massive devastation from the four short years of Khmer Rouge rule so severely stunted Cambodia's growth that it is only beginning to recover.

We lunched at a fabulous Khmer restaurant and had some great local cuisine before touring the large market in the center of the city. After a break to wait for Kheng's cousin Malin to join us, we took a river cruise and finished with more Khmer food, including what became my favorite dish in Camobida, ground pork sauteed with eggplant. Yum!

Our final day in Phnom Penh, we toured the colorful and ornate Royal Palace, checked out the largest pagoda in Phnom Penh, then lunched outside of Phnom Penh on some more fabulous Khmer food, including my first time eating frog, which was quite tasty! Finally, Kheng and I caught a bus out to Siem Reap, and I was ready to see some temples!

We arrived in the evening, grabbed some grub and crashed early, ready to get up at 4:30 to view the sunrise over Angkor Wat. And it was majestic! The view was magificent from the western courtyard as the brilliant red/orange sun slowly rose over the largest religious building in the world. We spent the next few hours touring this largest of temples before heading to the Angkor Thom complex a few kilometers away. This complex was the seat of the Khmer empire for a time after Angkor Wat, and it is home to the magnificent Bayon temple, built with many four-sided towers, each side depicting a different face of Buddha. After lunch we saw the Ta Pramh temple, known for being the location of the Anjelina Jolie film, Tomb Raider, but also notable for the massive trees reclaiming the temple walls. Kheng and I spent the afternoon at the Cambodian Culture Town in Siem Reap learning about Camobidan culture through a series of skits detailing Cambodian customs, including a wedding ritual. It was a great experience getting a brief, but informative glimpse into traditional Cambodian culture.

The second day: more temples. There are a vast number throughout the area, and I no doubt only saw a few. However, the second day was particularly enjoyalbe because the crowds were smaller in the morning as most visitors headed to Angkor Wat for the sunrise. Between temples, we stopped at the Land Mine Museum and learned that there are still many areas in Cambodia where the Khmer Rouge planted land mines that have still not been recovered. To this day, people are still being injured by newly discovered mines, as Cambodia races to rid the country of these hidden and long-forgotten instruments of death. Half a day of temples, followed by the Angkor National Museum to learn about the history of the Khmer empire in Southeast Asia, and we were off to Battambang, Kheng's hometown, for a quick visit.

We arrived in the evening, and after a much-needed shower, I met Kheng and his parents at my hotel and we headed for dinner. His father and mother, who own a rice processing factory, were very kind and accommodating hosts. We had Cambodian BBQ, beef fried rice and an excellent sweet fried corn dish that was another favorite of mine in Cambodia.

My only day in Battambang started with breakfast with Kheng and his parents, before Kheng and I headed off to a mountain outside the city to see the temple located on top. It was beautiful to look out from the temple to the Cambodian countryside, and we even had a chat with the monk in the temple. Of course, by "we" I mean Kheng, since it was a fully-Khmer conversation. I mostly smiled and nodded whenever the conversation seemed to include me. Outside the temple we checked out some cool caves, then made our way to a temple another hilltop temple with splended views. At the base of the temple, we lunched on fried eel and frog stew with rice, while laying in hammocks resting from the hot afternoon sun. We headed back toward Battambang stopping at the first Cambodian winery for a tasting of their fine red wine, brandy, grape juice and ginger juice, where we chatted with a vacationing German couple. After that, we checked out Kheng's future place of employment, his family's under-construction new rice factory where his father explained that the fields it is built on were in the middle of the fighting during the civil war that led to Khmer Rouge rule in 1975. Another reminder of the haunting past of this beautiful country. For our last dinner together, Kheng and I went to a restaurant locally known for its fried pig intestine, as well as a traditional Khmer fried fish delicacy. Both were delicious, and a fine meal to be my last in Cambodia. Good company and good food, I can't complain.

The final morning, I had breakfast with Kheng and his parents before they gave me a quick tour of downtown Battambang and then whisked me to the bus station to catch my passage to Bangkok. Five days was nowhere near enough, but with my still-recovering shoulder, I was eager to get on to Thailand and continue recovery.

Gooood Morning Vietnam!

Before I could get to Vietnam, I had to make the 26-hour bus ride from Luang Prabang to Hanoi. 26 hours in a reclining seat? No worries, thought I. Little did I know that this particular bus I would be taking only had reclining seats for about half the customers. The remaining passengers, of which I was one, slept underneath their seats, laying on the ground with about 6 inches of space separating our nose from the floor beneath their seats. At least we got pads to lay on. It was like riding in a coffin, with a neighbor.

After the arduous journey, I ended up in Hanoi late at night, with an aching arm and no idea how to get to my hostel. Finally wrangling a taxi, I arrived at my hostel exhausted and ready to sleep. More immediate than my urge to sleep, however, was one to eat. I hadn't had food since the morning bus stop some hours prior. With a recommendation from the hostel, I wandered over a few blocks to the street with the late night eats and grabbed a bowl of pho bo, or beef noodle soup. This was to be my first of many and it was fantastic! The rich broth and hearty pieces of beef with perfectly cooked noodles; I was in heaven, if only for a moment. I headed back to my hostel and crashed. Hard.

The next morning, greeted with cool, overcast weather, I set out to find the post office and mail some items home, as my heavy pack was a bit of a burden with my injury. After getting my heavy clothes and first round of souvenirs in a box ready to be shipped stateside, I took a tour of old Hanoi, wandering the alleys, seeing the large cathedral and admiring the lake in the center of the city.

More touring of Hanoi followed, including a visit to the closed Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum, and some of the other famous sites in Hanoi, like the Temple of Literature and the Opera House, led into an evening of wandering the streets looking for dinner. I happened upon a corner cafe and ordered some beef fried rice and a Bia Hanoi, the local brew. Just my luck, an English DJ named Luke, a spanish fellow named Javi and a Belgian gal named Sophie sat next to me and we ended up checking out Hanoi for the night.

My last day in Hanoi I went to the train station to procure a ticket to the beach town of Nha Trang, some 24 hours by train south. I figured the fewer the stops, the better. And I think it was the right call. After getting my ticket, I wandered more of Hanoi, down to Lenin Park, named, of course, after the father of modern communism, Vladimir Lenin. Here I enjoyed a Bia Hanoi and rested as the afternoon sun faded and I awaited my train. On my way back to the hostel, I stopped by the large night market in the center of the Old Quarter, grabbed my last Hanoi pho bo and headed to catch the train.

The train journey was uneventful, until the last few hours when I was lucky enough to get some new companions in my compartment. Lisa, a native of central Vietnam, was headed back to Ho Chi Minh City with her father and niece. We struck up a conversation, started by a concerned query into the happenings that led to mangled limb, and talked until I had to depart at Nha Trang. We exchanged email addresses and kept in touch for when I made it to Ho Chi Minh City.

I spent the next five days bouncing between my air conditioned dorm room, the street vendors selling food and the wonderful beach. The views were magnificent of the green-blue water and the rich, white sand. The nightlife is the primary attraction to the city, but in my condition, I decided to forgo the festivities and rest. Even still, I had the luck of meeting a few good people in my hostel, including a Russian gal, Kiwi cousins, a Dutchman, a feisty American from Utah and her Dutch traveling partner and a Canadian. Good people, and we spent a few good dinners together exploring Nha Trang. After five days though, it was time I was on the move.

Headed to Ho Chi Minh City, my arm was still a nuisance, so I decided to continue to take it easy a few days before heading to Cambodia. The first night I checked out the night market and ended up meeting a few people from my hostel for dinner at one of the stalls. Amazing streetfood! And on the way back to the hostel, we stopped for a talent show featuring, among other performers, a cute five year old vocalist, pair of jugglers, and a gentleman taming some rather large snakes. The rest of my days in Ho Chi Minh City were spent reading in cafes enjoying the delicious Vietnamese coffee, which hit the spot on those hot Saigon afternoons. I also visisted the Vietnam War museum. A fascinating, and terribly tragic, part of American and Vietnamese history.

Because we exchanged email addresses on the train, I was able to meet up again with Lisa, from the train ride from Hanoi to Nha Trang, her father and her cousin and go to dinner. One night, we went to a fabulous Vietnamese BBQ restaurant and had some amazing venison, octopus, shrimp and goat which we grilled in the middle of our table, and followed with a nighttime tour of Ho Chi Minh City by scooter. Then, Lisa invited me to dinner the next night at her house with her father, who prepared the meal himself. It was incredible! Salad with egg and beef, pig ears with rice paper and a cooked beef dish, of course with rice. My mouth is watering just remembering the flavors!

After that, it was time for Cambodia. Off to Phnom Penh!

DisLaocated

My brief visit to Laos provided some of my best, and worst--or at least most exciting--travel experiences to date. In only 8 days, I met some incredible people and was the beneficiary of some very generous hospitality, while also experiencing, and causing, a good bit of worry.

After catching a last minute bus for Kunming to Jinghong, China, I was lucky to nab a ticket for the next morning's bus to Luang Nam Tha, Laos. Not originally part of my Lao itinerary, I am incredibly fortunate to have had this change of plan. But, as my bus to the border wasn't until the next day, I had a night to spare in Jinghong. Without Internet, I wandered the streets seeking accommodation. Unfortunately, all places were overpriced and the city was terribly cheesy, like a poorly done, Chinese version of Las Vegas. After failing to find reasonable accommodation, I retired to the comforts of the metal benches of the bus station for the evening.

In the morning, I hopped the bus southbound along with another American traveler on holiday from his job in Beijing. And as soon as we crossed the border, I was excited. The landscape changed to lush jungle almost immediately and you could sense the awaiting adventures in the warm tropical air.

I arrived in Luang Nam Tha and had dinner at the quaint night market with the same American fellow I met on the bus, as well as two other fellow arrivals; an Italian and a German. On offer was Papaya salad and sticky rice; Lao staples. And they did not disappoint. The papaya was freshly cut and mixed with a spicy red pepper native to Southeast Asia as well as some tomato and lime. Over dinner we discussed our planned itineraries for Laos and decided motor biking was all on our agendas.

We awoke the next morning and headed out, sans the Italian who had to work, and ventured north into the jungle toward Muang Sing. After climbing into the national park and passing small villages and a cool waterfall, we swooped into the plains surrounding Muang Sing and cruised along enjoying the fresh air and sights of the Lao countryside. Before lunch, we decided to follow the road outside of Muang Sing to see where it would lead. The answer: China. We nearly crossed the border at the small, locals-only checkpoint without realizing, but turned back in the nick of time. I had had enough of china for the moment, and didn't want to get stuck on the wrong side of that border. The rest of the day was spent exploring the villages and admiring nature's beauty as we cruised by at about 50km/hr. Or so I estimate, as my speedometer was broken, a commonality on all the scooters I rode in Laos. By day's end we had all vowed to scooter again the next day, trying a different route.

On the second day of exploring northern Laos we headed west from Luang Nam Tha toward Vieng Phouka. On the way, we stopped and explored a cave with the company of two Catalunyans traveling in Laos. We continued on to Vieng Phouka and lunched riverside on more sticky rice, papaya salad with rice, a grilled beef dish and some stir-fried vegetables. Good eats! Then, while wandering the village we happened upon a Lao wedding, where we were invited in by the bride and groom for some Lao dancing. As the evening approached, we bid farewell--and Congratulations--to our new friends and made our way back to Luang Nam Tha in time to return the scooters. Afterward, my fellow America and I hopped a rather bumpy night bus to Luang Prabang, the largest city in northern Laos.

While Luang Nam Tha had a distinctly rural feel, Luang Prabang was very colonial. Clearly influenced by the French colonization, baguette vendors and cafés littered the streets, interspersed with some fine temples. We wrestled up some accommodation and hit the streets to see what the city had to offer. After a few hours of walking, we retired for the afternoon to our fanned room before seeking out some Lao food for dinner near the brilliant, if repetitive, night market. Fried rice and Beerlao were on the menu, and that suited us just fine. On our way back, we met some Lao footballers who invited us to play bocce ball with them. Price of admission: Beerlao. We spent the evening getting whipped in bocce ball and debating the chances of Manchester United winning the Premier League.

We had heard about some waterfalls nearby and decided the next day that exploring them by scooter sounded much more interesting than a tuk-tuk, so we sought out Tim and his motorbike shop and got outfitted with two hot rides. After taking in Tad Sae waterfall, we were headed to Kuang Si waterfall when I had, shall we say, a boo-boo. After a fall on the motorbike, a passerby from Luang Prabang generously drove me to the Luang Prabang Provincial Hospital, where I was ever-so-lucky to discover a broken right collarbone. Initially expecting--and then hoping for--a dislocation, the bone was broken in two, and upon reading the x-rays, the technician, nurse, my incredibly generous new Lao friend and I let out a collective groan, "Ohhhh..." We might not have all spoken the same language, but we all knew what a broken bone looked like. A mildly humorous moment to lighten the mood a bit. A sling and a few pills later and I was released from the hospital. Luckily, my American friend was able to coordinate my scooter return to Luang Prabang and cart my clavical-ly impaired self back to the guesthouse to make what I knew would be an...upsetting...Skype call. Thankfully, my wonderful parents took it in stride and, though the experience has provided for a few sleepless nights for my mother, no doubt, they were generous in helping me decide on what to do next. After a day of weighing the pros and cons, I decided to keep traveling, though I knew it would be cumbersome during the healing process.

A few more days of loafing around Luang Prabang buying souvenirs and visiting the temples while the swelling subsided and I decided to head into the slightly more...modern conveniences of Hanoi, Vietnam.

But, as I would find out, getting there with two healthy collarbones would have been an experience in itself, and with only one was quite the trip.