Of course, there isn't much rhyme or reason, or so it seems. 294 is followed by 302, though 296 and 300 exist, just further to the west, across Monivong (one of the main arteries). Only the main arteries have stoplights, the rest is a free for all in the intersection.
(Don't get me started on the housing numbers, which make even less sense than the street numbers. They proceed more or less in chronological order, but one odd number on one side of the street is absolutely no guarantee it will continue, and simply because the numbers are going down doesn't mean they will continue to do so. If, as is often the case, two houses have the same numbers, a letter is thrown on the end for kicks -- the most common being A and EO, though why is really quite beyond me.)
In the meantime, there are certain rules that everyone follows, though they cannot really be called traffic laws in the way we westerners would think of them. Once you figure them out, however, you can get along just fine, if by fine you don't mind a few heartattacks on each trip.
The most disconcerting thing for me is the way to turn left at intersections. You turn to the far left side of the road you want and drive on the wrong side of the road until the opportunity to cut across oncoming traffic presents itself and you can get back to the right side.
At stoplights, the motos and bikes wind their way up to the front, disregarding the lane markers entirely and often spilling into the oncoming traffic lanes. Red lights for many motos means 'take more caution when crossing the road', and they wait until everything is most calmed and then motor on across. If you don't start pedaling when the countdown -- large red numbers on the stoplights announcing just how long you have to wait -- hits "4", you'll be left in the dust, but then it's important to be aware as someone will always be pushing the limit of when the red light actually appears.
For those intersections without stoplights -- that is to say, most of them -- it's just a touch and go process to wind around everyone and hope the car in front of you isn't blocking a moto traversing on the other side (which it inevitably is.) This is similar to turning left without a light, in which case you just wind your way through oncoming traffic wherever there are gaps.
My trick is usually to find a moto or a car turning at the same place as me and then hiding behind them, using them as a shield and zipping through the hole they create. It works, most of the time.
Cambodian drivers are remarkably patient with this crazy system, and despite the hundreds of near collisions in one short drive, road rage is very rare. Honking, however, is common place. Generally speaking, though, the honk is used for both moto and car to simply announce its presence, usually as it is cutting across several lanes of oncoming traffic to turn left or something of the sort. Since people get cut off all the time, honking usually serves as a warning that, although you may have just swerved in front of me, I am still here.
Honking can also be used to clear the way, as the more important cars use it just to make the smaller ones get out of the way. There is definitely a hierarchy, starting at the top with the big cars, then the small cars, then the tuk tuks, motos, and lastly bikes -- yet another reason to use the cars as a shield.
The last thing you need to avoid are the huge carts carrying supplies - they move slowly because it's just one moto pulling it (no chevy trucks here, no sirree), laden with supplies and with at least one or two young men sitting on top, with dusty clothes and scarves over their mouth - and the food carts. These are sometimes like huge, glorified wheelbarrows or like the push carts you might find in Central Park. Their owners either walk them around or attach them somehow to a moto, and drive along the side of the street, announcing their presence with a little horn playing a ditty that may be the most annoying thing I have ever heard. But it works like an ice cream cart.
And I may have mentioned it before, but the motos, aside from being absolutely ubiquitous, carry the damndest things. It is not uncommon at all for whole families, including very small children, to be perched on top, or for huge boxes of god-knows-what tied precariously to the back. If you can put it on the thing and it doesn't collapse, well, then there you go.
It's not unorganized, as I thought at the beginning, and perhaps seems much more dangerous than it really is. But if you are paying attention, and understand where you are supposed to turn, it works out just fine.
However, and especially since the bag snatching incident, I wear a helmet.
In the meantime, there are certain rules that everyone follows, though they cannot really be called traffic laws in the way we westerners would think of them. Once you figure them out, however, you can get along just fine, if by fine you don't mind a few heartattacks on each trip.
The most disconcerting thing for me is the way to turn left at intersections. You turn to the far left side of the road you want and drive on the wrong side of the road until the opportunity to cut across oncoming traffic presents itself and you can get back to the right side.
At stoplights, the motos and bikes wind their way up to the front, disregarding the lane markers entirely and often spilling into the oncoming traffic lanes. Red lights for many motos means 'take more caution when crossing the road', and they wait until everything is most calmed and then motor on across. If you don't start pedaling when the countdown -- large red numbers on the stoplights announcing just how long you have to wait -- hits "4", you'll be left in the dust, but then it's important to be aware as someone will always be pushing the limit of when the red light actually appears.
For those intersections without stoplights -- that is to say, most of them -- it's just a touch and go process to wind around everyone and hope the car in front of you isn't blocking a moto traversing on the other side (which it inevitably is.) This is similar to turning left without a light, in which case you just wind your way through oncoming traffic wherever there are gaps.
My trick is usually to find a moto or a car turning at the same place as me and then hiding behind them, using them as a shield and zipping through the hole they create. It works, most of the time.
Cambodian drivers are remarkably patient with this crazy system, and despite the hundreds of near collisions in one short drive, road rage is very rare. Honking, however, is common place. Generally speaking, though, the honk is used for both moto and car to simply announce its presence, usually as it is cutting across several lanes of oncoming traffic to turn left or something of the sort. Since people get cut off all the time, honking usually serves as a warning that, although you may have just swerved in front of me, I am still here.
Honking can also be used to clear the way, as the more important cars use it just to make the smaller ones get out of the way. There is definitely a hierarchy, starting at the top with the big cars, then the small cars, then the tuk tuks, motos, and lastly bikes -- yet another reason to use the cars as a shield.
The last thing you need to avoid are the huge carts carrying supplies - they move slowly because it's just one moto pulling it (no chevy trucks here, no sirree), laden with supplies and with at least one or two young men sitting on top, with dusty clothes and scarves over their mouth - and the food carts. These are sometimes like huge, glorified wheelbarrows or like the push carts you might find in Central Park. Their owners either walk them around or attach them somehow to a moto, and drive along the side of the street, announcing their presence with a little horn playing a ditty that may be the most annoying thing I have ever heard. But it works like an ice cream cart.
And I may have mentioned it before, but the motos, aside from being absolutely ubiquitous, carry the damndest things. It is not uncommon at all for whole families, including very small children, to be perched on top, or for huge boxes of god-knows-what tied precariously to the back. If you can put it on the thing and it doesn't collapse, well, then there you go.
It's not unorganized, as I thought at the beginning, and perhaps seems much more dangerous than it really is. But if you are paying attention, and understand where you are supposed to turn, it works out just fine.
However, and especially since the bag snatching incident, I wear a helmet.
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