Happy 26th!! Sending you love and birthday wishes from across the sea. Enjoy your dinner, cake, and WINE, and keep an ear out for the phone…

For those of you unfamiliar with my upbringing, I grew up in rural Upstate SC. So rural, in fact, that Google can’t find my house. Which is a source of great amusement to me. (For the absolutely curious you can see the farm here but ignore the address, it’s just how I found my bearings. My parents’ place is the big mass of trees in the middle with the light tan colored pasture out front.)

I have to admit, it could be a lot more rural. When I was growing up, the city nearby (30 minute drive) was 40,000 people. Now its 175,000 people. Big enough, apparently, to have gangs that shoot up Applebee’s. (The newspaper here is almost as fun as reading the NYDN… but without the great headlines.) (more…)

After our wonderful boating experience (See Gilligan’s Boat Ride), Abby and I happily embraced dry land and found a nice hotel with a roof bar and restaurant in Battambang (AKA bada-bing! to Abby and me). Because we had unexpectedly wasted a day in transit, we decided to stay an extra day before continuing on to Phnom Penh.

We weren’t sure if Abby was going to make it to the Killing Fields in the city due to this change of plans, so we decided to head out to another site of Khmer Rouge atrocities outside of Battambang called the Killing Cave. We were told that tuk-tuk drivers couldn’t take the road because they frequently flipped over due to the horrible, pot-holed conditions. They assured me that a moto would be much safer. Uh huh.

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Abby and I left Angkor in the morning, headed for a small town called Battambang via boat. We headed to the dock in a pick up truck that was more crowded with “Barang” (foreigners in Cambodian) than was really necessary. Just when we thought they couldn’t cram one more person in, they did, throwing their heavy backpacks over our interlocked legs. That was the first indication of what the day was going like. We were in the hands of a sadistic, cheap tourist company hell bent on cutting corners and taking those damn Barang for everything they’re worth.

We boarded a boat by the dock, and had a very similar experience to the taxi ride there. More and more tourists kept pouring in to the bottom of the boat, and when that was jam packed, they directed more tourists to the slighty rounded roof of the boat where there were no chairs, no railings, and no shade from the relentlessly hot sun. Two Russian guys took stock of the situation, grabbed their bags and took off.

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The following morning, Abby and I awoke to the loudest and longest thunder I have ever heard in my life. We were convinced that either Bush had decided Cambodia was the newest target on the list de le axis de evil or that a monsoon was surely on its way. However, it was neither, this is just how Cambodia does rain.

It poured for a few hours and while we were at lunch it stopped. A tuk-tuk driver had been hovering over us the entire lunch, staring at us, watching every grain of rice that was consumed. We thought we’d ask someone else the price to Angkor Wat just on principal alone. But we ended up checking with him afterall, as no one else was around. The price was right, and he didn’t seem nearly as creepy as we anticipated once we talked to him, so off we went to the temples with “Mr. Ron”.

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Our first 24 hours in Cambodia was a whirlwind of traveling. We got off the plane in Phnom Pehn, and immediately went to the taxi counter to see if there were any buses left that day headed toward Angkor. They hurriedly said yes, and started running with us to their taxi. We were driven to the bus depot where we were virtually attacked by a slew of Cambodians offering rides, bread, and other goods. We boarded a public bus shortly thereafter, and being the tallest people in the group, somehow landed tight seats over the wheels. Abby and my legs just barely fit behind the seats in front of us. I felt like Shaq in a Mini.

The first thing that stuck out as unusual to us was a naked baby boy around the age of 2 or 3 sitting with his mother on the bus. Just plain, butt naked. On a crowded bus.

We headed out into the country side shortly after we left the city, and were met by sights of rural Cambodia, I have to say, I was not expecting. It was breath-takingly beautiful, but so unlike anything I had seen before. It’s rainy season here, so everything is covered in water. Everything. There are puddles everywhere, big ponds in front of and underneath people’s homes, and vast bodies of water surrounded by rice patties on either side of the road. Anything that is not under water is bright green.

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Assault by tuk-tuk

Tuk-Tuk Driver:  You want tuk-tuk? You want tuk-tuk?
Abby: No, i’m trying to get to my friends, they’re waiting for me over there.
Tuk-Tuk Driver: If you don’t have friends, and if you’re lying, would you like me to take you somewhere?

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Abby and my brief stop in Vientienne was just enough. We had a great time walking around and checking out the sights, but after our “enchanting” Luang Phabang experience and with Cambodia looming, we were anxious to get to our next stop.

Our first night we went down to the Mekong and checked out all the hundreds of food carts lined up and down the river bank. Vendors were frying up Mekong Fish and other street meat items on portable grills and stoves and serving them to folks lined up at nice candlelit, table-cloth-draped seating areas by the river. Despite our immediate attraction to the ambiance, my hypochondria and over-cautiousness about protecting my ‘falong’ stomach kicked in as I passed the cooking areas and noticed no ice for fish or meat, cleavers dripping with mystery goo, and rotting eggs.

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So… I cut my hair. Chopped it down to college length. Between the low water pressure, unusual SE Asia showering techniques, and my snarls, I just couldn’t take it anymore. I’m trying to get my pictures uploaded, so anyone who’s interested will be able to see the new do soon. I went to a very expensive Salon: Hair a la Abby. It’s all on video.

Luang Phabang has been incredible. It’s a very charming old colonial town where huge old mansions have been converted to wine bars, restaurants, and jazz bars, and all the sidewalks are made of brick. There are two main roads right between a fork in the Mekong River that are lined with stores, internet and travel cafes, and places to eat and drink. Abby and I have visited a few Wats and the Royal Museum, and have been checking out as many stores and restaurants along the Mekong as we can. Food continues to be amazing at every meal. The most bizarre thing I’ve had here is french fries with fried eggs and soy sauce on top. It was actually quite delicious.

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Abby and I set off for Laos the morning after I arrived. After a 7 hour bus ride, we reached Chiang Kong, the border town in Thailand before Laos. A tuk-tuk brought us directly to a travel agent who said she’d set up our border crossing and boat ride from the border to the center of Laos down the Mekong River (we paid $20 and found out later that we could have done the boat ride for $11. So begins getting ripped off).

We found a hotel right on the Mekong and had a room with a sliding glass door onto a deck over looking the river, and had an extremely spicy dinner also overlooking the river. By the way, the Thai food (despite the spice) is absolutely amazing - curries, fried rice, noodle dishes, flavorful soups. Not missing Mexican as quickly as I thought I would be…

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