Race to Cambodia, Part 1

I have a tendency to change plans on a whim, usually because I'm not good at making plans to begin with. I originally only planned on staying in SE Asia for a week, but according to every single backpacker I met, that was ridiculously short. Since my ticket home was flexible, I decided to push my flight back a few days.

Ken and Dan were going to Cambodia to see Angkor Wat, so I decided to tag along (to be honest the opportunity to see the ancient city was why I stayed longer in the first place). The catch was that while they had already gotten their visas, I had not. You could get one at the border, but you had to pay a whole 5 DOLLARS more (with the possibility of extra fees depending on the mood of the border guards)! Absolute extortion. The other problem was that the border closed at 8:30 P.M. and if we didn't get there soon enough we would be stuck for the night in a Thai border town. There were some complications, but we thought we had plenty of time.

We departed beautiful Koh Chang Island (translation: Koh Island Island), early morning Friday at about 8:3o. I was in a low mood since the rain had ruined my plans to enjoy the great beach one last time, but I did get to see some monks begging for alms at each storefront. An employee from each place came out with a ready-made container of food, which was presented and accepted in a very ritualized manner. We loaded up on the taxi-truck and rode up the hills to the ferry. The road was wet and our driver busy texting his buddies. We managed not to run over the Scooterist who laid-down his bike in front of us on a tight turn.

We took the Ferry to the mainland at around 9:30. No one died.

At the other shore we had to take yet another taxi to the nearest bus station in Trat. There we had to wait until nearly noon for the bus to Chantaburi, which according to Ken was the town we needed to go to next. Ken was our leader because he had a guidebook. While we waited I had a Slushee and incredibly spicy Tom Yum soup.

There were very few people on the bus to Chantaburi. On the way I watched what at first appeared to be a pleasant movie about friends white-water rafting in a mountainous place that reminded me of home. Then someone was shot in the eye with an arrow. Everyone else soon decapitated or gutted as well. It was the beginning of a movie called Wrong Turn III. I resolved never to watch the first two. The bus route to Koh Chang Island had had better taste and showed District 13 Ultimatum. I never knew the French could make great action films.

We arrived in Chantaburi a little after 1, ready to catch the bus for the next stage of our journey. But we were informed that the next bus didn't leave until 3. The journey to the next city, which we calculated was over an hour away from the border, took about 4 hours. The border closed at 8:30. Uh Oh.

To be continued.....