Kampot: pink scooter, crab and coffee

The riverside town of Kampot is a charming place. It’s relatively quiet streets are easy to walk around and the people are warm and welcoming. There were a few things on our itinerary for Kampot, but weren’t sure how to tackle it. The sea side fishing town of Kep was just 15km away and then there was the locally grown coffee plantations that sounded like fun. As our final stop in Cambodia, we wanted to make sure we could see as much as possible, but didn’t want to be tied up in an organised tour. It left us one option: scooter hire! This would be my first time on a scooter, but more importantly, my first time on one in Asia! As a keen cyclist, I felt that my road sense was good and we both decided to go for it.

I’ve got to admit, hiring the scooter was the best thing we have done in Cambodia, possibly the best thing on this entire trip. Being free to see what you want and at the speed that you’re comfortable with makes the whole experience so much more enjoyable. The roads were not over crowded and we felt safe on our hot little pink scooter! A couple of occasions, the road got pretty bumpy, but it was fun traversing the holes. We had incredible weather, and with the constant breeze cooling us down, we didn’t think too much about the raging sun. Of course my arms were covered in a generous coating of sun cream, but it was the back of my hands that really suffered. A few days later, I had blisters full of water, not pleasant!

Hot in pink.

We found a coffee plantation and walked around the strange towers of green bushes. These bushes are dotted with little green and black coffee pods and really interesting to see. For those coffee lovers out there, traditional Vietnamese coffee is quite different. I wouldn’t say it’s an acquired taste, but its consistency is a lot thicker than normal and it has quite a chocolate taste to it. It is usually served in glasses with their own drip feed system (excuse the poor terminology) and condensed milk. It is…delicious. It’s so think and creamy and filling, it also has a good amount of caffeine in it to kick start your day!

Amazing Coffee maze.

From the farm, we followed the map on my phone and zoomed along towards Kep. This town is famous for its sea food, more specifically, it’s crab dishes. On arrival, we walked around the fish market and watched the ladies as they dragged in their wooden wicker baskets hopefully full of crabs. They would then delve their hands in and pick specimens out. How they haven’t lost a couple of fingers is beyond me.

The locals…who all had 10 fingers.

We walked down the main sea front street, and browsed through menus. Crab is expensive! 5-6 dollars is the going price at the moment – a lot when you consider we were paying 50 cents for a meal on the street. Still, it was something we really wanted to do and in the end, we found a place that did a sea food platter and rice for 2 people and for 10 dollars. We sat on their balcony over looking the sea and watched as the fishermen worked hard out in the waters. Our platter included a red snapper fish, octopus, squid, prawns, crab and a few other delights. It was so fresh and tasty and we felt like royalty dining in a 5 star restaurant. The meal was served with a black Kampot pepper sauce, mixed with lemon that was so delicious and of course local.

The best sea food platter ever…and the view was pretty good too.

A few kilos heavier, we hopped back onto our scooter, did a loop of Kep and then headed home. We stopped on the way back to walk around a little floating village and saw salt fields which was certainly interesting. Back in Kampot, we gave our trusty steed in and then noticed just how dusty we were. I had perfect sunglasses marks and looked like I had spent a week on a sun bed. Time for a shower and bed.

Looking like a cross between a Mexican and a miner.

The following morning we arranged a bus to pick us up and take us to our new distinction and our final country: the highly anticipated Vietnam. Needless to say, we were both very excited!

On a final note, Cambodia…WOW! This entire country is full of mystery, love, history and happiness. We had the pleasure to meet some amazing locals and feel so lucky to have had the chance to visit this beautiful part of the world. I might go as far as saying that this is my favorite place so far. We could have easily spent longer visiting different places and hopefully one day, we can return and do just that. Thank you Cambodia, we will certainly miss you.

Stepping out of India and into…Goa!

Arriving into Madgoan and you’d be hard pressed to notice anything strange or un-Indian about the place. We got off the train at 5am and apart from a handful of white people (spotting them has become a bit of a game) everything felt normal: the heat was sticky, the rickshaws wanted silly money to take us the main bus station and the locals were already in full flow. We found a local bus that would take us to the main station and upon entering it, immediately felt the Goan party spirit. With colorful lights dotted across the ceiling and music from various speakers we chugged our way through the dark city. Luckily, it was only a couple of minutes ride as the bags resting on our legs had started to deprive our feet of much needed blood. Still, everything felt ‘normal’.

At the bus station (known as the bus ‘stand’) we waited for 20 minutes and enjoyed another cup of chai. After enquiring as to our bus, we were pointed to one that was parked across the courtyard. Brilliant! Before all the locals crammed on and took the best seats, we had first pick and after checking again with the driver, we climbed aboard. One thing we’ve learnt that you can never do enough of in India, is to ask for help, especially when it comes to transportation. Ask as many people as possible if its ‘the right train…’ or ‘the right bus’. The locals are always helpful, but often wrong, hence why collecting as many opinions as possible is the safest way. On the bus, we stowed our bags in the drivers cabin and watched him as he prepared his bus; spiritually. Using incense (3 sticks), the man offered the cleansing aroma to pictures of his various gods that were dotted around the cabin. As smoke slowly danced its way to Malene and I, we found it quietly calming as we watched the sun slowly rise. Again, normal.

With the bus packed full of locals on their way to work and school, we took off on the journey which took about an hour. As we climbed mountains and raced down the other side, palm trees and dense forest engulfed us. The sun was already out and our adrenaline was being fueled by the speed the driver was managing to get out of the old bus. It’s like he was always 10 minutes behind schedule and trying to catch up. The winding roads both up and down the hills didn’t stop him overtaking various other motorists whether the corner was blind or not. Even passing an accident between a lorry and a couple of cars didn’t seem to lessen the haste at which he traveled. Everything was still normal.

We then made our way through the small town of Palolem and closer to the beach, of which we still hadn’t seen yet. The shops crammed shoulder to shoulder along the main street and signs for yoga, beach huts and restaurants seemed to swamp the road side. As it was still only half 6 on the morning, apart from the shop owners cleaning their front steps, there were very few other people around. We stepped off the bus and walked down to the entrance of the beach. On the 200 meter walk to the sand, we started to notice something. Something that seemed strange. There were soo many white people! It was still early in the morning, but local Indians were nowhere to be seen, instead, white tourists and very few clothes between them. As we’re got down to the golden beach and started our slow, labored walk, more tourists could be seen. The beach was covered with bikinis, topless men, short shorts and glowing white skin. A little bit dazed, we managed to find our ‘resort’: The Nest.

With a beautiful beach bar and little wooden huts surrounded by palm trees, we made our way to the bar. We met the slightly strange, yet kind owner, Mohal. As our room (or rather hut) wasn’t ready, we moved our bags into the restaurant where we enjoyed breakfast and a coffee over-looking the beach and the glorious sea. We were still so struck to see so many white people. We had come across a few tourists in the past cities, but we were always the minority. Here, the tables had turned.

Our beach hut was simple, yet beautiful. Equipped with bathroom and shower with hot water, a terrace and hammock that looked straight onto the beach, it was as if we had died and gone to heaven. Unfortunately, that feeling wouldn’t last the duration of our stay in Goa. That day, we lay on the sun loungers, drank cold beer and read our books. With the crashing waves like a soundtrack to our peace, it felt like the essence of chilling. Of course, with such a hyped tourism market, the prices, food, drinks and music all represented what the Western holiday maker wanted – we were quick to learn that this was not what we wanted.

With prices double what we had been paying for the last 4 months, we were struggling to keep to our daily budget of £15 each (including travel expenses). Yes, it was still cheap compared to Western standards, but we had grown accustomed to Indian prices and spending our daily budget on the accommodation alone was eating into more than just our wallets. We’re not cheap people, but we also don’t have lots of money to spend on luxury hotels and fancy food. Here in Goa, we were constantly thinking about whether we could afford that meal or how it would affect the rest of our travels. On the other hand (and without sounding too hypocritical), the food was absolutely delicious. On our small beach, there were plenty of restaurants to choose from, all with first class views of the beach and perfect sunsets – every night. Menus were crammed with continental dishes and fresh fish including lobster, prawns, king fish, octopus and shark. Most of the restaurants laid there tables out on the sand, and with just the candle light and the stars, we would spend hours just gazing out into the open sea.

The little shops in town (one street) were jammed full off colorful memorabilia and over eager owners. Although the colorful spices, sweet smell of incense and beautiful dresses looked wonderful, actually browsing through it all is next to impossible thanks to these shop owners. As a potential customer, you are constantly told “good price for you”, or “you look for free” and trying to leave empty handed is almost seen as criminal. It’s a real shame as the items for sale are truly beautiful, but unless you know exactly what you want, I would recommend giving these shops a wide birth. Hard as it may be, ignoring the shop owners tends to be the best policy for all parties.

After many quick dashes between various cities on the way down, we decided to spend a week here to recharge our batteries. Traveling is great fun and you always learn so much about yourself as well as culture around you. But it is tiring, in fact exhausting and spending a week in the sun came as a welcome break. It was just a shame that we had to leave ‘India’ in order to do so. We loved the nights in the mini open-air cinema and enjoying salmon and scrambled eggs for breakfast, but this place is so far removed from India that it feels like you’re back in Europe. In fact it came to the point where actually seeing local Indians on the beach was quite rare – probably in the same way as they saw tourists in the rest of the country.

Monkey Island provided a nice get-away from all of this. Although just a short walk from the beach, this island, covered by palm trees and monkeys, was a nice place to come to. And with a fresh pineapple, Malene and I could sit and watch the crashing sea and feel a little bit lost once again. Perfect.

The white sands and blue seas of Goa is of course a memorable place. The question is whether its memorable for the right reasons. Of course it was nice to recoup, get some ‘normal’ food and speak English again, but on the other hand, isn’t that cheating? The nice thing about India is that it doesn’t take too much from you, but instead gives back so, so much. This isn’t a conclusion we could make of Goa. So, thank you for your sandy beaches and your cooling sea swims, but we’re looking forward to stepping back into India – crazy, I know!

Our next stop is Hampi and its sacred monuments – will we find India again?