Of crabs and flame trees and snakes

23 Dec 2013

I reckon it takes about 3 weeks to settle down in a place. When we first arrived in Kep everything seemed strange and unfamiliar and slightly scary – or at least worrisome. What are those strange smells? Is it safe to walk along the seafront in the dark? What creepy-crawlies are living in the roof? Am I going to break my ankle in these potholes? Can I trust that man to tell me the truth? Will that unusual tasting food make me ill? Worry worry anxious anxious.

Quite suddenly after a couple of weeks those fears subside and everything feels comfortably familiar. We know every section of the path along the seafront like the back of our hands and feel quite happy to stroll along there in the dark, saying hello to the shadowy fishermen as we pass by. We’ve found our favourite restaurants and cafes for breakfast, fruit shakes or evening meals. We know where we can get a cheap beer at sunset. And we like our little bungalow home.

I don't quite understand the architectural priorities of the Cambodians yet. Sometimes quite modest dwellings have massive, imperious gateways and entrances like this! Odd.

We even went in the sea this morning! The advance press for Kep Beach was not inviting – “a small, rather dirty, stony beach, popular with locals but too shallow to be good for swimming”, so we were pleasantly surprised to find it’s clean and sandy and great for swimming.

No caption required.

Apparently, up until about six months ago, the road into Kep was a beautiful, tree-lined avenue with hundreds of magnificent mature “flamboyant trees” producing stunning red blossom in April. Then the regional authorities decided to widen the road into this huge inexplicable six-lane highway. The avenue had to go! But to their credit, someone somewhere decided that the trees should be saved and although they uprooted them, they did it with care – removed the branches, dug them up with a big rootball and replanted them further back. And amazingly, most of the trees have survived. They look a bit odd now but they have already started sprouting feathery leaves. Hundreds of new young trees have also been planted and are watered with care every morning. I find this interesting. Such care, when other areas are such a mess!

One of the trees that didn't make it. But you can see the rootball.

This one is doing well - sending out new leaves.

and here is the new road which replaced the avenue. It will recover in time but I'm not sure who they think will make use of this massive highway.

 Yesterday we ate breakfast at the crab market. It was fascinating to watch the people at work. The crab market restaurants are a row of bamboo and tin shacks on stilts on the seashore. You can sit over the sloshing water, drinking your coffee, watching the fisherwomen haggling over their sales. The crabs are kept in bamboo cages in the shallows and the women wade out to sort them or bring in samples for their customers.

The Crab Market in action.

The crabs are stored in bamboo baskets in the shallow water.

They are sorted on the shore.

Then the cages are dragged back out and anchored.

Buyers from local and regional restaurants come a haggle over price and quality.

 So yes, I feel thoroughly embedded in this place. Quite at home among the sights and smells, beauty and grime.

No live ones seen yet!

The Move across the Road

20 Dec 2013

Goodness, is it that time already!? It’s the 20^th December – time just flies.

On Wednesday, a couple of days ago, we did our scheduled move from our lovely, comfortable bungalow at Bacoma, across the road to Kimly Lodge (because Bacoma was booked up for Christmas months ago). Not an altogether straightforward transition.

There’s nothing wrong with Kimly – it has a lovely garden and a row of half a dozen well-appointed concrete and tile bungalows – but it’s much more formal and hotel-like than we’re used to. And there’s no restaurant/cafe where everyone can gather. And the mini-bar is expensive. And the wifi is weak. And the staff don’t speak much English. And generally we felt unhappy about spending two weeks in a hotel room. So yesterday we had a little trawl around to look for somewhere else, hoping that we wouldn’t lose all our money already spent on Kimly.

Kimly gardens and bungalow. Very neat and clean.

Our abode at Kimly.

Eventually we found a room at Tree Tops – a backpacker place not far away, with thatched bamboo bungalows on stilts set in a lovely wild garden. They had one room left which we could have for $20 a night. It would be a bit like camping for a couple of weeks – very basic accommodation, small and dark, with holes in the walls and floor and no hot water - but friendly people. We booked it.

Back at Kimly overnight, we had second-thoughts! And by morning we had decided to revert to the relative luxury of hotel-dom – the lure of warm showers and a clean, bug/snake/spider-proof room proved too much for us. So here we are back at Kimly. Nothing is ever straightforward in paradise!

Artist at work. Artists have such sensitive souls.

Unlike most places, which have dogs to act as guards and cats to deal with the rodents, Kimly has ... a pair of ducks, which patrol the grounds assiduously, cleaning up around the plants.

Nick.

There's a family of monkeys who live on the shore. Most are too fast-moving to photograph,but this fella decided to pose for me. 

Youngster sitting on the sea wall.

Hanuman - monkey god - outside the tourist office. We haven't seen the tourist office open yet!

I've been trying to learn to identify tropical fruit. I think this might be jujube - but I'm not sure.  

I still find these ruins fascinating. You can imagine the ghosts of early-twentieth century French glitterati holding magnificent parties. 

This is the famous Crab Market. A little less glamorous than its billing - but you get used to that round here.

We went for a walk along a jungle path through massive trees. Trevann always seems to get followed by a dog.

And did I mention the sunsets? Kep is famous for them!

The Daytrip

14 Dec 2013

So, having settled in here for a week, we thought we’d better do a trip to somewhere, just to show willing. Through Michael, we booked minibus tickets to visit Kampot, the nearest town, which is said to have some lovely French colonial architecture on a riverside setting. It’s about 45 minutes each way, along the main road.

Our bus was due to pick us up at 10.30 from the bungalows so we were slightly surprised when a tuktuk rolled up and the driver told us that he was to drive us to the bus station half a mile away. Not a problem. We were then unperturbed, but again slightly surprised, to be told that the bus we had booked was full – which indeed we could see was so. The sweating passengers were patiently waiting in the bus on the forecourt.

We weren’t fussed – it was only a day trip for us on a whim, we didn’t have a plane to catch or anything, we thought we could try again another day once we had our money back. Eventually – several phone calls later - we got our money back and the bus went on its way. This is everyday chaos and confusion in Cambodia.

Meanwhile our tuktuk driver (Blue) said he could take us to Kampot himself, so having negotiated a price, we accepted his offer. He assured us that the road was now good enough for his little tuktuk to manage. So off we chugged - having filled the tuktuk's water container from a roadside pond to keep the engine from overheating.

A huge new road is being built between Kep and Kampot. It's as wide as the M1 but only has tarmac along a narrow strip in the middle. Whether you choose to drive on the left of the strip or the right, or indeed straight down the middle, seems to be arbitrary.

On the journey we passed through lovely scenery - past lush jungle, productive wet paddy fields and mangrove swamps with a background of green mountains.

Rice paddies.

Creeks run up from the coast through the mangroves, and the fishermen, having been out at sea all night, bring their boats up inland in the morning to where their homes are. They sleep in the afternoon.

To be honest, although it’s a picturesque journey, the town of Kampot was hardly worth the effort. Poor old Kampot is, as one of our fellow guests said, “just another dusty Asian town”. Nothing much to write home about, although the fruit shakes were good!

This is the centre of Kampot. It has aspirations to be Parisian, with a wide boulevard down the middle, but hasn't quite made it yet.

You can just about make out the famous French colonial architecture under the tin roofs and tattered tarps, but it's a bit faded.

After a couple of hours wandering through the streets, we found Blue snoozing by the river and asked him to take us home. Still, at least we got out for the day!

Back at the bungalows in Kep, Trevann admires the flowers in the tropical garden

Today I've been taking pictures of the flowers:

Bananas never cease to amaze me with their red flowers and curious fruit formation. Why!?

Frangipani of course. Heavenly scent.

Not sure what this one is.

This one is Senna alata - the candlebush flower. Large, dramatic shrub with mediciinal uses - not that we'd have a need for that particular property right now!.

Another unnamed waxy red flower.

Sleepy town Kep

10 Dec 2013

What we didn’t know when we booked a couple of peaceful months in the tiny sleepy Cambodian seaside town of Kep was that in our first week it was due to host the second ever annual national Cambodian“Festival of the Sea” with an expected influx of up to 100,000 visitors from all over the country for the weekend – including dignitaries, celebrities and attendant media crews!

In our first few days cables were being laid, stages erected, banners and flags unfurled and roads swept in anticipation. Michael was anxious – worrying that the noise and crowds would disturb his guests.

In the event it all passed peacefully enough. We saw a bit of a parade – the Cambodian Bikers Club led by some electric cars and robots – which was colourful, although we weren’t sure what the connection with the sea was.

Presumably a traditional Khmer costume?

A few singers and musicians belted out the ever-popular Asian ballads, stalls selling Kep delicacies lined the road and families laid out picnics in every available spot. Best of all – the roads were closed to traffic so we could walk to town along the road without getting run over.

Dancers perhaps?

A bunch of senior police officers stayed in the house at Bacoma, but they were friendly enough and waved cheerfully as they walked by the bungalow in the evening (with their guns and cases of beer!).

Sunsets are one of the main features in Kep so we need a few pix of them.

You can just see the naked fisher wife statue through the bottles here.

I did tell you that Kep was famous for its sunsets and crabs didn't I!?

Same Same, but Different

8 Dec 2013

It’s hard not to compare Kep, Cambodia with Luang Prabang, Laos (where we were this time last year)– noticing things that are the same and things that are different – sometimes better, sometimes worse, sometimes just different. Both South East Asian, both basically Buddhist, both with warm tropical climate and friendly people, and both carpet-bombed by the Americans during the Vietnam War. Today, Laos has a single-party communist government and a population of just 6.5 million in a rumpled green land while Cambodia is a much flatter, more agricultural country with a population of about 13 million, still recovering from its extraordinarily brutal recent history.

The entrance to Bacoma Bungalows.

From our point of view the differences are subtle. The bungalows here at Bacoma are similar in feel to the ones we stayed in outside Luang Prabang last year.

One of the round bungalows.

Bacoma has been built by an ex-pat, Michael, from  Switzerland and sits in a lovely spacious tropical garden tucked below the green hillside of Kep National Park. There are three or four little round thatched “hobbit huts” for the backpackers, a wooden Khmer-style house on stilts and our concrete and thatch “square bungalow” with tiled floors and integral bathroom – home to the massive spider, Gregory! Apart from the geckos bombing us with poo from the ceiling it’s very peaceful.

Artist at work.

So far the electricity has been on all the time, although Michael tells us that it is intermittent and expensive. In Laos, of course, because of the hydroelectric plants, electricity is dirt cheap but goes on and off at the drop of a hat. Constant electricity means constant wifi and internet access. I haven’t decided whether this is a GOOD thing or not yet. In Laos I rather enjoyed the days of enforced freedom from Facebook or emails. Here I’ve been reading the news, checking the weather in UK, talking to Holly and Ben, dealing with emails, etc. Hmmmm

A massive new road is currently being built, hoping to bring more tourists to the region.

Kep is a seaside town, strung out along the coast on the strip of land between the sea and a line of steep green wooded hills. It is basically a fishing and beach town and at weekends is busy with daytrippers from Phnom Penh. Families come to picnic along the seafront, sitting on rugs by the side of the road, eating and drinking, or in hammocks under thatched shelters that can be hired for the day. Much like Branksome Chine really - but warmer.

Kep beach.

Compared with Luang Prabang there is less overt spiritual practice here in Cambodia. Fewer monks of course. In Laos every house has a spirit house out front – a structure a bit like an elaborately carved bird feeder, often painted gold – where the family leave offerings of food and drink for the household gods. I’ve seen one or two here but not many. In Laos you also get a much clearer picture of everyday life. The huts along the side of the road are open and you can see families eating, or preparing food or washing as you pass by. I suppose there’s more space here because the land is flatter, so the houses are often further away.

This is a typical scene - dog snoozing in the middle of the road. So far they've all been peaceable.

In Kep the land seems to be divided into plots bounded by walls, with pillared gateways. Sometimes the plot is a field, perhaps with a few cows grazing, sometimes an orchard, sometimes an abandoned garden with a ruined villa. 

Ruined villa.

In its heyday in the 1950s and 1960s the town was a popular resort for the rich and famous. Large luxury villas were built by the French colonial expats all along the seafront, and Kep became the St Tropez of SE Asia. Sadly, almost all the villas were destroyed in the 1970s, either burnt out by the Khmer Rouge or pulled apart for materials by a local population struggling to survive in desperate times. Today, the blackened remains peek out from the vegetation, sad ruined shells with occasional hints of their former glory – a sweeping staircase here, carved detail or colonnaded verandah there.

Fishing boats.

Of course as money starts to come back to Cambodia the houses are starting to be rebuilt. Developers are showing a keen interest in this bit of coast. Already a few luxury resorts have been opened and no doubt in a few years’ time it will be in another cycle of wealth.

Newly completed villa.

It certainly has the climate. Another contrast with Laos is the near constant breeze. Although the temperature is higher – reaching 30 in the afternoons – the wind keeps it comfortable all the time and it never feels too hot. Yet. We don’t get the morning mists either.

And there are birds! The garden here at Bacoma is full of birdsong and I can hear owlets in the woods on the hill behind. Lovely.

Lovely sunsets across the Bay of Thailand.

Yesterday was Michael’s son’s fifth birthday and we were invited to join in his party along with some teacher friends. A multi-cultural gathering of Dutch, Swiss, Khmer and English guests enjoying Senegalese music and BeerLao on a tropical evening!

Michael, Somnang and his mum, SriaNa, cutting the cake.