battambang
Battambang is Cambodia's second largest town and it is located in the north west of the country. I got there by bus from Phnom Penh in just over 5 hours. On board I met a decent chap from South Africa. He would be my travelling companion for the next few days. We got on very well as we are both committed booze hounds!
Battambang is a very sleepy place, extremely laid back. Our room came in at an pricey $2.50 per night but it was clean and comfortable. We shared it with a few gecko's. I have become quite found of these little green critters. They are quick and agile yet stupid too. If they figure they haven't time to run away from the imposing bulk coming toward them (me), they stop and freeze where they are. They must think it a clever disguise or something. But against a white washed wall, they're not fooling anyone. But they eat insects and I can heap limitless praise on anything that hunts and kills mosquiotos. I hate those little f*ckers!
By chance, we ended up in some karoke restaurant where we were something of a rarity. Throughout our time there, many drunken Cambodian men plopped down at our table and raised their glasses to us. No one spoke English and the scene was often comical. This activity reached its zenith when the local police chief (he had many shinny badges and medals but hardly any teeth) joined us and I think he was trying to explain that if we encountered any trouble, he would take care of us. It was unclear how he'd understand us if such a thing happened. Later he was joined by what appeared to the local gangster. He roused himself on several occasions to announce to everyone around 'no problem, no problem' while pointing at the foreigners. Protection from the cops and robbers!!
We hailed some motorbike taxis and headed off to the local nightclub. In our drunken revelry, we invited our drivers in too. It must have been quite a treat for them judging by the broad smiles. They were only whipper-snappers! Once they got on the dancefloor, these boys were dancing machines. It was worth the admission price to see them. The nightclub wasn't bad but it closed at 1am. The booze hounds weren't done yet so we asked our drivers/disco kings to take us to a place still serving beer. Once we got there, it didn't take us long to realise that they took us to a brothel!! I can only assume that our drivers figured it to be a great place for a nightcap. We drank two beers and left without availing of the services. Besides the girls looked like hell!
The next day we decided not to hire the dancefloor killers as we might end up in another brothel. Instead we found two new drivers, explained that our primary wish was to see some roosters peck the sh*t out of each other in a death match. Cock figthing is big in these parts and it is not for the sqeamish. The roosters really go for it. They square up to each other, circling, waiting for an opening. This generally involves getting the opponents head in a 'wing lock' and pecking the top of his head off. The owners of the bird tease and really p*ss off the unfortunate animal so thatwhen they get in the ring only one thing follows; unabated chicken violence. Blood streaming down their head, involuntary opening of the bowels (poor bast*rds, they're really frightened) and all to the backdrop of thirty Cambodian men screaming and remonstrating at them. A little man keeps the book and he's a busy chap. Anyway, I won't say anymore on this apart from I now want to see the following fights; cricket fighting, stag beetle fighting, fish fighting and mad dog fighting.
The remainder of the day was spent driving around pillion and choking on dust. The remote villages were great to see. Climbed a few mountains to see old temples and all. Finally we returned to Battambang on the so called 'bamboo train'. Okay, it is nothing more than an ordinary wood pallet mounted on a narrow guage track with a honda engine improvised to turn the wheels. So, two foreigners, two honda dream motorbikes and four locals speedy down a bendy, uneven railway track. On several occasions, I thought I was a goner. It was fun in 'a scare-the -sh*t out of yourself' kind of way.
We booked a boat ride to take us to Siem Reap the next day. 6 hours, they said. Instead, hungover and tired we were crambed into the back of a pick up truck. There followed the most uncomfortable two hours of my recent life. The truck tried to traverse muddy, disintergrating roads while constantly appearing to be on the verge of rolling over into a ditch. Plus I was whipped along my back by branches and bushes to such an extent that I had open wounds. Add to this that the damn thing kept getting stuck in the mud and the twelve passengers (minus one big fat Cambodian man and one big fat Dutch girl who stayed in the back - oh, how I hated them!) and have a tug of war with the truck. Once the rope broke and all of us went crashing in to the mud. We must have been a beautiful sight; heavily perspiring, haggard and caked in thick mud.
Thankfully that leg of the journey came to an end and we waited for a further three hours on a floating house for our boat. I was in a bad mood by this stage. Six hours they said and six hours had long passed and I still hadn't even seen the boat. I figured it best to try not to think of it. The boat finally came and I was very happy when the journey finally came to an end in Siem Reap.
Battambang is a very sleepy place, extremely laid back. Our room came in at an pricey $2.50 per night but it was clean and comfortable. We shared it with a few gecko's. I have become quite found of these little green critters. They are quick and agile yet stupid too. If they figure they haven't time to run away from the imposing bulk coming toward them (me), they stop and freeze where they are. They must think it a clever disguise or something. But against a white washed wall, they're not fooling anyone. But they eat insects and I can heap limitless praise on anything that hunts and kills mosquiotos. I hate those little f*ckers!
By chance, we ended up in some karoke restaurant where we were something of a rarity. Throughout our time there, many drunken Cambodian men plopped down at our table and raised their glasses to us. No one spoke English and the scene was often comical. This activity reached its zenith when the local police chief (he had many shinny badges and medals but hardly any teeth) joined us and I think he was trying to explain that if we encountered any trouble, he would take care of us. It was unclear how he'd understand us if such a thing happened. Later he was joined by what appeared to the local gangster. He roused himself on several occasions to announce to everyone around 'no problem, no problem' while pointing at the foreigners. Protection from the cops and robbers!!
We hailed some motorbike taxis and headed off to the local nightclub. In our drunken revelry, we invited our drivers in too. It must have been quite a treat for them judging by the broad smiles. They were only whipper-snappers! Once they got on the dancefloor, these boys were dancing machines. It was worth the admission price to see them. The nightclub wasn't bad but it closed at 1am. The booze hounds weren't done yet so we asked our drivers/disco kings to take us to a place still serving beer. Once we got there, it didn't take us long to realise that they took us to a brothel!! I can only assume that our drivers figured it to be a great place for a nightcap. We drank two beers and left without availing of the services. Besides the girls looked like hell!
The next day we decided not to hire the dancefloor killers as we might end up in another brothel. Instead we found two new drivers, explained that our primary wish was to see some roosters peck the sh*t out of each other in a death match. Cock figthing is big in these parts and it is not for the sqeamish. The roosters really go for it. They square up to each other, circling, waiting for an opening. This generally involves getting the opponents head in a 'wing lock' and pecking the top of his head off. The owners of the bird tease and really p*ss off the unfortunate animal so thatwhen they get in the ring only one thing follows; unabated chicken violence. Blood streaming down their head, involuntary opening of the bowels (poor bast*rds, they're really frightened) and all to the backdrop of thirty Cambodian men screaming and remonstrating at them. A little man keeps the book and he's a busy chap. Anyway, I won't say anymore on this apart from I now want to see the following fights; cricket fighting, stag beetle fighting, fish fighting and mad dog fighting.
The remainder of the day was spent driving around pillion and choking on dust. The remote villages were great to see. Climbed a few mountains to see old temples and all. Finally we returned to Battambang on the so called 'bamboo train'. Okay, it is nothing more than an ordinary wood pallet mounted on a narrow guage track with a honda engine improvised to turn the wheels. So, two foreigners, two honda dream motorbikes and four locals speedy down a bendy, uneven railway track. On several occasions, I thought I was a goner. It was fun in 'a scare-the -sh*t out of yourself' kind of way.
We booked a boat ride to take us to Siem Reap the next day. 6 hours, they said. Instead, hungover and tired we were crambed into the back of a pick up truck. There followed the most uncomfortable two hours of my recent life. The truck tried to traverse muddy, disintergrating roads while constantly appearing to be on the verge of rolling over into a ditch. Plus I was whipped along my back by branches and bushes to such an extent that I had open wounds. Add to this that the damn thing kept getting stuck in the mud and the twelve passengers (minus one big fat Cambodian man and one big fat Dutch girl who stayed in the back - oh, how I hated them!) and have a tug of war with the truck. Once the rope broke and all of us went crashing in to the mud. We must have been a beautiful sight; heavily perspiring, haggard and caked in thick mud.
Thankfully that leg of the journey came to an end and we waited for a further three hours on a floating house for our boat. I was in a bad mood by this stage. Six hours they said and six hours had long passed and I still hadn't even seen the boat. I figured it best to try not to think of it. The boat finally came and I was very happy when the journey finally came to an end in Siem Reap.
posted by Ciarán at 6:53 p.m.
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