Friday morning we were supposed to be picked up at our guest house at 7:15am for a ride to the bus station for our journey out of Cambodia. Erin and I were eating breakfast at 6:45 when the manager came over to tell us a driver was waiting on us now. We had just started eating. We had to run up to the room, cinch up our packs and hurry down to the van.
We were driven to a street corner where there were lots of people and a bus. The driver opened the van door and curtly said "you get out". This phrase would become our phrase of the day.
We took our packs and made our way thru the crowd, including street vendors hawking their wares (te aw kuhn). Boarded the bus. Turned out this was the 7:30 bus, and not our 8:30 bus. Apparently they did not fill up the first bus so they came to get us and I suppose cancelled the second bus.
This bus had no amenities at all. Cambodian pop songs blared along with a mid sized TV screen up by the driver. My noise cancellation headphone batteries were dead so I really had to crank up the volume to drown out the hideousness that was coming out of the TV.
A lot of our drive to Ha Tien, a border town, was on dirt roads. We rattled, swerved, and bumped. One older man got sick. We stopped at a lunch stop and the bathroom consists of walking to a field and doing you business (men only). There was one very very nasty bathroom (the term is generous) for the women.
Eventually the bus stopped on the side of the road and the man told us "you get out!" I woke Erin up and we scrambled off the bus and pulled our packs put from under. Then they hustled us to a waiting van that already had a few foreigners in it. "You get in!". The van took off down even more bumpy dirt roads. We stopped again and the man said "You give passports". He left the van for a while and returned. We have no idea what he did as their did not seem to be much other than street vendors around.
Finally we got to Cambodian exit station and he took our passports and facilitated our exit visas: "you get out!". We then walked across the border to the Vietnamese entry station. He again facilitated our entry and we each paid a $1 bribe to the officer.
Back on board the van. Bump. Swerve. Pick up a Canadian. We arrive at the high speed ferry and offload our bags: "you get out!". Erin and I have lunch with Nastya, a Russian girl from Moscow traveling alone. Fried rice and Vietnamese beer while sitting in child sized plastic chairs and table. The ferry itself was nice. We could have water ski'd behind it. A fast and air conditioned 2 hours to the island of Phu Quoc.
We arrive on a very small dock crammed with dozens of motorcycles looking for fares. We walk maybe 300 yards carrying our packs. Give our van ticket to a guy who crams 13 of us into a small non air conditioned minivan. Two British, one Russian, two Americans, two Spanish, one Swiss, one Vietnamese, and one unknown (and seemingly unknowable). A veritable United Nations of hot, sweaty, weary travelers immune to the discomfort and danger of their current mod of transportation. I only took one picture of this van, a shot from the outside.
Finally we arrive at our resort and are greeted by a very nice Frenchman named Gerard, who owns the resort. We are pleased to find his taste of wine to be excellent as we sip white wine and watch a fantastic sunset. Ahhhhh.
We were driven to a street corner where there were lots of people and a bus. The driver opened the van door and curtly said "you get out". This phrase would become our phrase of the day.
We took our packs and made our way thru the crowd, including street vendors hawking their wares (te aw kuhn). Boarded the bus. Turned out this was the 7:30 bus, and not our 8:30 bus. Apparently they did not fill up the first bus so they came to get us and I suppose cancelled the second bus.
This bus had no amenities at all. Cambodian pop songs blared along with a mid sized TV screen up by the driver. My noise cancellation headphone batteries were dead so I really had to crank up the volume to drown out the hideousness that was coming out of the TV.
A lot of our drive to Ha Tien, a border town, was on dirt roads. We rattled, swerved, and bumped. One older man got sick. We stopped at a lunch stop and the bathroom consists of walking to a field and doing you business (men only). There was one very very nasty bathroom (the term is generous) for the women.
Eventually the bus stopped on the side of the road and the man told us "you get out!" I woke Erin up and we scrambled off the bus and pulled our packs put from under. Then they hustled us to a waiting van that already had a few foreigners in it. "You get in!". The van took off down even more bumpy dirt roads. We stopped again and the man said "You give passports". He left the van for a while and returned. We have no idea what he did as their did not seem to be much other than street vendors around.
Finally we got to Cambodian exit station and he took our passports and facilitated our exit visas: "you get out!". We then walked across the border to the Vietnamese entry station. He again facilitated our entry and we each paid a $1 bribe to the officer.
Back on board the van. Bump. Swerve. Pick up a Canadian. We arrive at the high speed ferry and offload our bags: "you get out!". Erin and I have lunch with Nastya, a Russian girl from Moscow traveling alone. Fried rice and Vietnamese beer while sitting in child sized plastic chairs and table. The ferry itself was nice. We could have water ski'd behind it. A fast and air conditioned 2 hours to the island of Phu Quoc.
We arrive on a very small dock crammed with dozens of motorcycles looking for fares. We walk maybe 300 yards carrying our packs. Give our van ticket to a guy who crams 13 of us into a small non air conditioned minivan. Two British, one Russian, two Americans, two Spanish, one Swiss, one Vietnamese, and one unknown (and seemingly unknowable). A veritable United Nations of hot, sweaty, weary travelers immune to the discomfort and danger of their current mod of transportation. I only took one picture of this van, a shot from the outside.
Finally we arrive at our resort and are greeted by a very nice Frenchman named Gerard, who owns the resort. We are pleased to find his taste of wine to be excellent as we sip white wine and watch a fantastic sunset. Ahhhhh.
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