January 18th, 2025
From Battambang, one can take a 3-hour bus ride or a 5-6
hour boat ride (I read even up to 8 hours online). The boat ride is more expensive than the bus
($30 vs $12), and the operators are definitely overcharging tourists for the
boat excursion. Hmm…which to do? Well, I’ve been on a few bus rides lately,
and who doesn’t like a boat ride? I know
I do. So, I purchased a ticket through
the guesthouse and was told to be ready for a pickup at 6:30 am.
At about ten minutes to 7, the guesthouse worker called
someone to check that the pickup was still coming, and it thankfully was. A couple of young German guys were also
taking the boat. The three of us with
our backpacks jumped in the trailer of a motorcycle tuk tuk and headed across
the city to a spot by the river where a pickup truck was parked, loaded with
tourists sitting in the back on bench seats, with a pile of luggage in the
middle of the truck bed between them.
They looked full…but no, where there’s a will, there’s a way.
The driver of the truck told all the tourists to get out of
the truck and he proceeded to strap six large backpacks and suitcases on a roof
rack above the cab of the vehicle. He placed
half of a tarp across the open tailgate, placed bags on it and then roped the
other side of the tarp over the gear, including my backpack. Okay, he definitely freed up space for a few
more of us and this could work…but then another tuk tuk showed up with 3 more
tourists, a couple of women and a man, all French and in the late 60s. The driver and the tuk tuk driver looked
perplexed and eventually said that they would have to get another vehicle.
I had already claimed a spot on the bench seat of the truck
that was present, but the Germans and the three new arrivals would have to wait
for the other truck. After waiting about
20 minutes, our driver decided to get on the road and the others would catch up
to us. We seemed to go on a bit of a
milk run leaving town. We stopped so the
driver could put air in the truck tires, pulled over by what we assumed was his
house as a woman came out and gave him some lunch in a container and picked up
some package from another location.
Soon we left the paved streets and started into the countryside,
following the river, which was very low and not suitable for a boat that could
ferry all of these tourists without running aground. I had read about this on some online reviews,
but we were only into the dry season by a month or so and I expected the water
levels to be higher, as did some of the other tourists. But these days with climate change, things
seem to swing wildly one way and then the other.
The road got bumpier and bumpier and occasionally a few of
us near the back of the truck got airborne (all of an inch off of the seat…but
still). We started to chat a bit and get
to know each other. There were a couple
of teachers from Perth in their mid 50s named Derek and Kate. Another couple from France, probably late 30s
or early 40s but I never got their name.
A young woman from the same area in France named Cora. A man in his early 30s named Sam, who hailed
from Wales, was on a very different trip than most. He had quit his insurance underwriter job in
London and travelled through Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, Kazakhstan and also
Vietnam…and he said that he’d only been travelling for 3 months. He must have been moving quickly.
Our bumpy truck ride.
It was interesting to see how the homes of the locals got
more and more basic as we ventured further from the city. It really makes you appreciate how lucky we
are in the Western world when you see how people are living here.
The water level was low.
As the truck slowed down to navigate the bumps, that allowed
the dust to catch up to the vehicle and coated all of us, especially those
right in the back. I was the second last
guy towards the end of the truck and got a bit dirty, but poor Sam started the
morning with a white t-shirt, but now it was closer to a tan colour!
From online research before the trip, I was under the
impression that we would have a 45-minute truck ride to get to the boat. It turned out to be about double that. I guess it can depend on the water levels and
even though we were just a month into the dry season, it had been a long time
since this area has seen rain.
After about an hour and a half, we stopped at a house near
the river. The guide told us that we
were going to wait for the other truck with the five remaining tourists to
catch up to us. It was a good time to
meet and talk with some of the other tourists.
There was one couple, probably late 60s or early 70s, and the woman was
Cambodian but lived in France since the 70s.
They were cute as they were constantly holding hands or had one arm
around the other. She was great as she
was the translator for what was going on.
After the guide received a phone call, she relayed that other truck was
delayed, it got stuck in the mud…
An hour later, we were told to get back in the truck and we
continued our drive even though the other vehicle hadn’t caught up to us. Oddly, only about a kilometre later we
arrived at the boat. Huh?!? A few of us Westerners mused that we could
have walked there from the house, and they could have sent our truck back to
retrieve the others…but hey, logic doesn’t always win.
Beside our boat was a smaller vessel that was full of tiny
fish that had been caught. The fish
covered the floor of the boat and was maybe about a foot and a half deep in the
middle. A plank was set down from the
riverbank to our vessel and it crossed over the fishing boat. This was how we were going to get on our
boat. Whoa, that sure ups the ante. I wouldn’t want to fall into that fish slop!
About fifteen minutes after we boarded, the other truck
showed up with the five tourists, they hopped on, and we were off…finally as it
was 12 pm already. It was very slow
going at first, barely faster than walking speed as the river was narrow and
windy and the water level was still quite low.
For the next couple of hours, we passed by a handful of tiny
villages. The houses were very basic,
some just made of a wooden frame and corrugated sheets of metal for the roof
and walls. They must be an absolute oven
in the hot season. Other homes were modified
boats which were no longer functional, so they were dragged up onto the
land. Sadly, there was a large amount of
plastic garbage strewn along the banks, from the houses to the shoreline.
I was reminded of being in Africa last year as little kids
would stop whatever they were doing, wave and yell “Hello” as we passed by. Super cute.
We stopped for lunch at one of the larger villages, at a general
store that was raised up on stilts. I
didn’t realize we would be stopping so I’d packed food for the trip, but it
gave Derek and me a chance to try a “Krud” beer, which we had just been joking
about 20 minutes earlier, having seen advertising for the drink on our travels
in Cambodia, but never actually finding one for sale.
Continuing our journey, Derek, Sam and I ventured up on the
roof of the boat where it was quieter, being further away from the engine, plus
the view was better. As we got closer to
the lake and the sun started to get lower in the sky, most of the other
passengers joined us. I also noticed
that a lot more of the homes, schools and churches were floating on the river,
rather than being on shore like earlier in the trip.
We finally made it to the massive Tonla Sap Lake, but still
had close to an hour to go.
Reaching our destination around sunset, we were split up into groups to ride motorcycle tuk tuks for the 45-minute drive into town. I was matched up with Cora and Denis from Germany. It was dark by the time I was dropped off at my guesthouse, The Urban. Our driver, whose “tourist name” was Simon, offered his services for visiting Angkor Wat. I contacted him later via WhatsApp and arranged for him to pick me up at 5 am tomorrow to see sunrise, which was highly recommended online and by the hotel staff member Chang. Oof, that’s early, and it was a long day…but when in Rome…
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