Kampot Trip - Part 7 - Scammed

Rotha got us back to Kampot in plenty of time, likely because the temple visit got cut short after my vertigo.  He dropped us off at a corner restaurant telling us he'd call the bus driver to pick us up there.  Promptly at 3:30 pm, the bus arrived, and we boarded.  The bus driver didn't ask to look at our ticket and I never gave it a second thought.

This bus headed for Sihanoukville, where we would eventually board the sleeper bus to Siem Reap.   Along the way we picked up and dropped off passengers, including three young monks.  I'd guess the age of the older monk at about 25, but the two youngest looked barely 10 years old.  Although I couldn't understand what they were saying, the young boys chattered as kids will do when they play together.  Although it was a fanciful thought, I imagined one of them pulling out a 'Transformer' toy from the sleeve of his robe, and I wondered if they'd ever done anything like that.

The day had been a hot one, overcast and muggy, and for the first time since we'd been in Cambodia, it began to pour... .... buckets.  The bus careened around corners and passed slower vehicles and people who stopped for cover.  At times the visibility was so poor I wondered if we would make it, or if we'd slam into something.  The bus stopped, and the monks got off, drenched before they'd gone only a few feet.

Running for cover

By the time we reached Sihanoukville, the rain had stopped as suddenly as it began.   We still had nearly three hours to wait before boarding the sleeper bus, and it might have been nice to explore the town, famous for its beaches and party atmosphere, but the bus terminal was on the outskirts.  We contented ourselves with exploring the bus terminal complex, grabbed some fried noodles at one of the food stands, then sat down to wait some more.  An hour later, Gordon wandered off and returned with some tins of peanuts for the journey.  He thought he'd also seen a bottle of wine in a display case, but the little old man who ran the kiosk wasn't letting it out of the case without payment.  I went over to have a look, and in my broken Khmer, managed to get the bottle of wine with a couple of plastic glasses (kao) thrown in....all for $1.00.

For the next two hours we watched as buses and people came and went.  Young men, clad only in their underwear, scrubbed buses down with soapy pads on long bamboo poles, and tossed buckets of clear water high up the sides of the buses to rinse them down.  No automatic bus wash (or even hoses) here.

Near our departure time, a bus arrived, and a man hollered for everyone to get off.  The bus was broken, he said, and pointed to another bus, commanding everyone bound for Phnom Penh to board.  I approached him and asked when the sleeper bus would come.  He asked for my ticket, and when I showed it to him, he growled 'Where did you get this?!'.  When said I'd bought it at the Kampot Riverview Guesthouse, he grabbed it from me, sat at a desk without a word, wrote out two new tickets, and kept mine.  He also asked me to write down my name, saying there'd be a free tuk-tuk waiting at the Siem Reap bus terminal for us.  Strange....These two new tickets had stubs attached...The one I'd given him didn't...But it still didn't register.

'Get on that bus' he said, and pointed to the double-decker bus with upright seats.  I began to refuse, trying to explain we'd purchased tickets for a sleeper bus.  'The bus is broken,' he said.  'Get on!', and realizing we had little choice, we boarded the bus with reassurance we'd be transferred to a sleeper bus in Phnom Penh.  To say I was upset is putting it mildly.  Not only had we paid for a sleeper bus, I had really been looking forward to my first time on one!

So there we were, crammed into a crowded bus.  Nothing more to do than sit back (not lay down) and enjoy the ride.  There's nothing better than humour to break a bad mood, and nothing else can get a few laughs going like a bottle of cheap wine.  I sneaked the bottle out of my bag, unscrewed the cap, poured some into our plastic cups, and we toasted.  Next came the peanuts....coated with chicken flavour.  (Chicken flavour? Yep, you read that right.)  Actually, it looked like CHSCKEN which really cracked me up.

Ginseng Wine - 23% alcohol
Tastes a bit like creosote.

 

'Coated with CHSCKEN flavour'
Pretty tasty, actually....

  
We managed to grab some sleep, and I woke with a stiff neck which made me even more anxious to stretch out in that sleeper bus.  (Sleeper bus? Did I say sleeper bus?)  In Phnom Penh, they herded us onto another double-decker bus.  Now I was furious.  But we were in a strange city, in the middle of the night!  What else could we do but get on the bus, and figure it all out when we got back to Siem Reap.

The bus was filled to capacity, and most of the seats were in poor condition.  Our seats wouldn't recline.  In place of the air vent above my head was a huge gaping hole that blasted arctic air.  I stuffed my kroma (scarf) in the hole, and tried, unsuccessfully, to get some sleep.  At 6:30 am, as we pulled into the Siem Reap bus terminal, another bus pulled in right behind us.   (You guessed it....the sleeper bus from Sihanoukville)  Of course, there was no free tuk-tuk waiting for us...... I wasn't surprised.

Later that day, we made some calls, and learned some interesting things.  In the end, we had to accept that we'd been scammed and there was nothing further we could do.  

 *******
Looking back, here is what I believe happened:  Rotha took our money for the bus tickets ($20 each), gave us a used ticket, and pocketed the money.  (I now know from sad experience that bus tickets are supposed to have a detachable part on one end, which ours didn't.  I also know that we are supposed to get one ticket per person, not one stub like Rotha gave us.)  We've since learned that several similar incidents have originated in Kampot.  It makes me wonder if  it's a scam that has been cooked up between Rotha and the bus driver in Kampot, as we weren't asked for our ticket when we boarded the bus there.  What better place to get used tickets than a bus driver?

When the man at the Sihanoukville bus terminal asked me where I got the ticket, and then later asked me our name for the 'free tuk-tuk', I wonder if he was planning to use this information to track down Rotha, the scam artist?  I hope so.

Bhuddism teaches that 'If you do good, you'll get good, and if you do bad, you'll get bad.'  After that awful episode was over, I wondered to myself what bad had we done to deserve this?  In retrospect, I see it differently now.  You know, when I handed that man the used bus ticket, he had every right to make us pay all over again, or leave us stranded in Sihanoukville.  Fortunately for us, he had a good heart, and said nothing... just wrote us out two valid tickets, and got us back to Siem Reap.  That was a good thing.  Funny how I was mad at him at the time, and now I realize I should have thanked him.  So often things aren't what they seem... 

******

Kampot Trip - Part 6 - Salt and Pepper

On our last morning in Kampot, when Rotha pulled up in the tuk-tuk to take us on the Salt & Pepper tour, things started to make sense.  Two evenings before, when faced with two exhausted and unsuspecting tourists (us), Rotha had seized a golden opportunity - He'd taken our $36, written us a bogus ticket for the tour, and borrowed or rented  a tuk-tuk to drive us around so he could pocket the profits.  Now, as we loaded our bags into the tuk-tuk we knew it, and he knew that we knew it.  Perhaps that's why he didn't speak more than twenty words the entire day, and although we'd paid for a guided tour, we ended up with a high-priced tuk-tuk ride to all the places listed in the tour brochure.

On the first leg of our ride, we passed through an area which appeared to be primarily populated by Muslims.  We'd seen some ladies in the Kampot market wearing head coverings, but weren't aware that this part of Cambodia is also home to many people who adhere strictly to Islam and the garb of their faith.  Riding past small villages, we saw women dressed completely in black robes with only their eyes showing, men and boys in white robes and caps, and a very elaborate mosque. 


Muslim man off to the far right



Mosque

We turned off the road at a sign indicating a pepper plantation with restaurant, bar and tours, but this wasn't  to be our destination.  Instead, Rotha took us to a small roadside plantation where a few people sat in the shade of a small rotunda while a monk, stripped to the waist, slugged away outside, digging up some ground in the hot sun.  I'm still not sure what the monk was doing or why, but it just struck me as curious.

A few steps away was a small pepper plantation, where we were fortunate to meet a young boy  eager to practice his English, who explained all about pepper cultivation.  We were amazed to learn that pepper plants have a vine-like growth habit, and some plants can be as old as 30 years.  Pepper grows in grape-like clusters.  The corns are green and hard at first, then as they mature, they form a red fruit over a large white seed, (similar to a chokecherry, I thought).  We learned that black pepper is made by drying the green peppercorns, red pepper comes from dried whole red peppers, and white pepper is produced by removing the outer red fruit, and washing and drying the remaining white seed.  

Kampot pepper is considered to be one of the best and most exotic in the world.  During the time of the Khmer Rouge, production was halted, and all but died off.  Currently, Kampot produces about 4,000 tonnes of pepper a year, and if you buy it anywhere else except Cambodia, it's pretty expensive.  Check out the prices and descriptions by clicking >>> here<<<. 

This young man knew a lot about pepper production

The young pepper plants are started from cuttings from the mature plants
These ones are about 3 months old
The hole next to the plant is for water

Nearly mature pepper plants, about 3 years old
As they mature, they are watered between the rows only

Can you see the clusters of green peppercorns?

The peppercorns turn red

After making or purchases, we hopped back into the tuk-tuk, again with no inkling of our next stop until we got to the salt flats.  There wasn't a soul around, nobody to give us any information, so it's a good thing Gordon knew something about how salt is produced from seawater.  

As far as the eye could see, there were square pools of water.
When the tide comes in, a gate is opened to flood the pools,
then it is closed to prevent the water from returning to the sea.
The seawater is then evaporated by the sun and the salt is collected

Salt crystals on the ground

Salt crystals are dirty and mixed with sand

There were many storage shacks like this one, filled with salt

Mounds of salt inside the shack

We wandered around the fields for a while, marveling in the wonders of nature, and the ingenuity of man.  It would have been interesting to know what happens to the salt, how it's harvested, where it's refined and sold.  That's another subject for a google seach, I suppose.

We hopped back into the tuk-tuk, with no idea where we were headed from there, until we arrived in Kep.  Once a bustling seaside resort, Kep was almost entirely abandoned during the reign of the Khmer Rouge.  Many buildings still lay in ruins.

We continued toward the seaside, where vendors sold their wares, mostly handmade.  I bought a few trinkets and some sweet treats, all for mere pennies.


Along the road, a horse cart



Kep Beach

I dipped my toes in the Indian Ocean

Buying some trinkets

Twenty small packets of sticky rice for about 50 cents

Yummy treat inside, still warm....

It was lunchtime, perfect time to head to the market for some fresh seafood. 

All kinds of seafood for sale - fresh, salted, dried.....

Gordon went for the grilled squid,
but I couldn't look another fish in the eye at that point...

More trinkets

I settled on half a jackfruit....

And yes.... I ate the whole thing....Delicious!

Being in Kep for such a brief period left us wishing we'd had more time to spend there, exploring or just walking on the beach, but we were watching the time, and with only a few more hours before we boarded the bus back to Siem Reap, we jumped back into the tuk-tuk, expecting to head straight back to Kampot.

We turned down a road with a sign pointing to Phnom Sosir Resort, and Rotha stopped at the foot of a long set of stairs leading to a temple.  Seeing the stairs, Gordon held back, thinking his knees wouldn't take the climb, but I forged ahead.  At the base of the stairs, I passed a man who followed me up.  At the top, he showed me stairs that led up further to a cave shrine.

Stairs up to the temple - I love the soft pastels

A monk contemplating in the shade

As we passed this on the way to the cave,
the man pointed and said 'Holy Cow'.
I replied 'We have the same saying in my country'.
I bet he thought I was nuts...

At the cave entrance was a steep narrow set of steps descending into the cave.  There was no handrail and the stairs seemed to drop off into nothingness.  I took a few steps down, felt my knees buckling, and had to turn back.  Vertigo had won.  Whatever beauty was in the depth of that cave would have to wait for the next visitor.

Kampot Trip - Part 5 - Hoodwinked?

On our first evening in Kampot, we'd booked (and paid for) our tours and return bus to Siem Reap through a man named Rotha at the Kampot Riverview Guesthouse.  He'd written out our tickets, and I'd tucked them securely into my wallet.   For Day 2, we'd booked a 'Salt and Pepper Tour', which ended at 4:00 pm, but the bus to Siem Reap was scheduled to leave at 3:30 pm.  "Is no problem!" -  He reassured us we could ask our tour driver to take us back early.

Rotha

When our tour on Day 1 ended late, we began to worry whether we'd be able to interrupt our tour on Day 2 to get back early.  What if there were a big group of people as there had been on Day 1, and we were somewhere far away?  How could we just tell the driver to turn around and get us to the bus station?  To be on the safe side, we set out in search of 'Smiles Tours' to double-check. 

The 'Smiles Tours' agent gave us a strange look.  "I don't have anyone booked for tours tomorrow.  Where did you book your tour?"  I took our ticket out of my wallet, and he smiled. "Oh, this ticket is for Kampot Tours, around the corner.  You'll have to check with them."   Gordon and I looked at each other in bewilderment.  How could we have a ticket for Kampot Tours when the brochure Rotha had shown us was for 'Smiles Tours'?   Strange.....   At Kampot Tours, the agent told us he didn't have any tour booked either!  Stranger still....

It was already getting late and dark, and we hadn't even had time to look for another guesthouse.  Then it dawned on us...  Rotha said the driver for the Salt & Pepper tour would pick us up at our guesthouse, meaning Kampot Riverview.  We we were stuck - We'd have to take the crappy room he'd offered us that morning after all.  While Gordon went in seach of  a phone card for our cellphone, I headed back to talk to Rotha.  (Oh well, it was only for one more night, right?)  Wrong.  The room was gone....already rented out, but Rotha said we could still have the room we'd stayed in last night.  (No way!  Over my dead body!)  Just as I was about to flip out, Gordon arrived, looking a little shaken, and said he'd been bitten by a dog!  (What else could go wrong?)   Fortunately, it hadn't broken the skin.  

That was the last straw.  We told Rotha about going to Smile Tours and Kampot Tours, and said we were leaving, cancelling the tour and wanted our money back.  We were fed up with this guy.  How could we trust him?    He said everything was already arranged - Either we forfeit the money or go on the tour.  "And how will they know where to pick us up tomorrow morning?'  'No problem, I will arrange for you'.  He dialled some numbers, speaking in Khmer, then told us all  the guesthouses were full.  (Now I was fuming.  I was convinced he was lying so we'd feel we had no choice but to stay one more night at this dump, and I wasn't buying it.) 

I told him we'd rather sleep on the road than stay another night in that room....and miraculously, he made one more phone call, and found us a room.....  right next door.  It was a much better place, albeit at a higher price than we were paying in Siem Reap, but we were in no position to argue.  As Rotha left, he reassured us our driver would there to pick us up at 8:00 the next morning.

Natural Bungalows is a lovely spot, right on the water's edge, with attention to detail in every aspect of their accommodations. All the rooms are in wood bungalows, extremely well built and luxuriously furnished.  The grounds are lushly planted.  A lot of loving care has gone into this establishment.  (They do, however need a little help with the English on website and their menu. - Where else can you get DEET fried vegetables?  Nothing like getting your required dose of mosquito repellant internally!) 

All the signs are made with rope on wood.
This one is both in English and Khmer

Sign advertising their offerings

We stayed in this bungalow, in the room on the left.
There was a separate room in the right portion of the bungalow

Gordon hadn't been successful in finding a phone card after all, so after settling into our room, we set off for the phone shop we'd passed while walking to The Bungalows.  The road was very dimly lit.  As we walked back, dogs growled and barked at us, then seven or eight of them began forming a pack farther down the road.  (This is really strange, since most dogs in Cambodia seem so docile.)  I could feel myself being overcome with fear.  I know dogs sense that, and now I was really afraid to pass them, so we walked back to the phone shop.  In my broken Khmer, I begged the lady to help us.  Thankfully, she walked with us to the entrance of the Bungalows, and only then I breathed a sigh of relief.

After a meal at their restaurant (which has magnificent tables made out of some of the hugest slabs of wood I've ever seen) we settled in for the night, wondering what more could happen?  Little did we know.....

OK, just a teaser....
Guess who was our driver for the Salt & Pepper tours the next morning? 

Yep, you guessed it.......  Rotha.

Kampot Trip - Part 3 - First Morning

On our first morning in Kampot, we woke very early.  A squealing fan will do that for you.  With nearly two hours to kill before our first tour started, we set out toward the market, in search of our favourite Cambodian breakfast, noodle soup.  

The road heading toward the market.
Not much traffic early in the morning

A lumber yard along the way

Although we didn't find soup at the market, I did get some interesting photos...

A lady shows off her purchase -
a live (tranquilized) chicken.

We discovered how they make 'fry bread'
Gordon bought a piece...still warm...

This little girl had a table set up selling tickets, I think.
It brought to mind girl scout cookies.

Two young muslim ladies selling fish.

Inside the market were a lot of fruit & vegetable vendors.
Biggest jackfruit I've ever seen!

Sorting out mussels

Baskets for sale!!
The upside down ones are chicken coops

We finally found a restaurant that looked 'safe' and went in for our noodle soup breakfast.  Delicious!  Man, it's really hard to leave the pork bones on the plate when you have a face like this looking up at you...

Please, please....

We walked back to our guesthouse which was down a little dirt road...

Gordon heading back to the guesthouse

Boat sailing past the guesthouse
Really, it's a nice setting.
Too bad it's not a nice place.

Rotha tried to talk us into taking a room with air conditioning and hot water for our second night.  He showed me two different rooms, both of which had filthy toilet seats.  One had a cracked sink, the other a broken shelf in the bathroom.  I was sure we could get much better for the same rate, so I said we'd think about it and decide when we got back from our tour.

Hey, how classy is this place? 
They have a car ramp (and fresh tire tracks)
leading up to the front door.

Kampot Trip - Part 2 - Note to Self: Next Time, Plan Ahead!

When I was a little kid, one of my favourite birthday party games was 'Pin the Tail on the Donkey'.  (If you don't know the game, read about it by clicking on the link.)  Looking back on our trip to Kampot, I can truly say it was just like that game.  We had only a vague idea of where we were going, and how we were getting there, and no idea where we would eat or sleep, or what we would do, other than buy Kampot pepper. 

When we arrived at the bus station in Kampot, it was already getting dark.  We were hot, tired, and hungry - two barang (foreigners) in an unfamiliar town - and the jackals were waiting.  Immediately, we were barraged at the station by tuk-tuk drivers all with brochures or cards for guesthouses in hand.  "Pick me!  Take my guesthouse!  I give you good price!  Best guesthouse in Kampot!  No, come to mine,  mine better!" They swarmed around us like bees, buzzing and hovering, and not giving us a moment to think clearly.  Finally in a fit of frustration, Gordon pointed to one card with a picture of a nice room, said "This looks pretty good.  Let's try it.", and we hopped in the tuk-tuk to the Kampot Riverview Guesthouse.

We were met by a young man named Rotha, whose English was fairly good.  Unfortunately, he said, he had only one room left - fan only, no air conditioning, no hot water.  Six dollars.  (Actually, he said sick dollars - That should have been my first clue).  He would have a better room tomorrow with hot water for $7.  Remember, we were hot, tired, hungry, disoriented.  We just wanted a place to lay down and rest our weary bones. We really weren't in the mood to start walking the dark streets looking for a place to stay.  We said we'd take a look, and even though it was pretty rough, we decided to stay one night.  After all, how bad could it be?  How bad, you ask?  Check this out.....

The blanket was smaller than the bed.
Gotta love the coordinated bedding!
The curtains were on a rod suspended over two nails

Mickey mouse clock

Romantic mood lighting

The fan was propped up with a string. 
It squeaked & squealed all night

No lid on the toilet
After the first flush, it broke,
so we had to fill up the tank by hand

And what hard thing do you think they are referring to?

Oh well, it was only for one night, right?  And after all, it did have this lovely waterfront restaurant and sitting area....

Waterfront restaurant

Sitting area

We registered, then went to the restaurant to get something to eat and drink.  Rotha was fast on our heels, chatting us up, not letting us get a word in edgewise.  (That should have been my second clue).  We mentioned we were hungry, but instead of a menu, he brought out a tour brochure, and started to pressure us into purchasing our tour packages and our return bus ticket.  (That should have been my third clue).  Not wanting to seem impolite, and anxious to get things sorted out and settled, we bought two tour packages and our return bus tickets. (Why would I be suspicious...It's very common to do this at guesthouses throughout Cambodia). 

It was late before the menus finally came out, and we ate heartily and headed back to our room.  As I opened the bathroom door and turned on the light, a HUGE cockroach the size of my thumb skittered down the open drain in the corner.  I held my feet up off the floor and got out as quickly as I could.  It couldn't get much worse (or could it?)

I will leave you all in suspense until the next episode, and I will only just say this one thing....
Fair warning!  If you ever go to Kampot and if you ever run into this man, turn around and run the other way!

Rotha