Running Away from the Elections, and the Backpackers: A trip to the coast

As some of you may or may not know, there were just elections in Cambodia. It's the first time since the Khmer Rouge that the opposition party, the Cambodia National Rescue Party, has had significant support, and the campaigning season has been crazy, with huge rallies for both sides anywhere you look. While it is common knowledge that the ruling party had the election rigged, suddenly it became much more of an issue. In the weeks leading up to the vote, the embattled leader of the CNRP, Sam Rainsy, who had been in self-exile (that or face a long prison term in Cambodia for phantom charges), was granted a royal pardon by Hun Sen himself, and returned to the country.

The vote is over now and both sides have claimed victory, with reports of serious voter and poll fraud and both sides pointing fingers, and calls for investigations and recounts and all sorts of crazy things.

That's a story for another post, however, and what I mean to say is, this past weekend when the vote happened was the perfect excuse to get out of the city. My flatmate has been itching for a vacation for awhile anyway, and I thought that sounded like a brilliant idea, so on Friday we hopped in a taxi and headed south.

The road to Sihanoukville is very well taken care of -- and it needs to be. The main cargo shipping port is there and if the trucks carrying the shipping containers can't get there, the whole economy stalls. So instead of the very suspect and pot-hole filled road to Siem Reap, the road to Sihanoukville is smooth and paved.

The town itself is sprawled on the hilly coast, somewhat badly organized and winding. The second stoplight arrived recently, and the roads are mostly paved these days. It's developing quickly, but slightly too fast for itself and kind of haphazardly. Still, my first impression was that it was charming, with the hills and the one main street.

After getting everything organized for the rest of the weekend, we headed down to Serendipity Beach, down a short slope and then sprawling to both sides in boardwalks and restaurants. To the left, the sand beaches and restaurants, paroled by a few dozen women and children selling manicures, bracelets, and a waxing service that somehow ingeniously uses dental floss and baby powder to remove hair. To the right, the bungalows, a boardwalk of small beach-side bars and a number of huts built into the sleeply sloping hillside, which is where we stayed the first night.

Where we stayed the first night

Very happy to be away from the madness!

It was lovely -- except, of course, the booming bass music from across the beach, where the backpackers apparently partied until past 5am, right about the time the rain started and more or less drowned out the end of the party. By that time it was about time to get up anyway, and we were on a shuttle bus by seven, heading to the shipping port where a ferry would take us out to the island. It was a quiet enough ride until all the seats filled up and we stopped one more time to pick up a large group of still-drunk British backpackers, whose first words upon getting on the bus were, "Sorry guys, we're drunk as shit."

They were covered in paint (paint!) from the previous night's party and filling the bus with loud, inane chatter, including announcing very loudly that the people sitting down didn't appear to be enjoying their banter (really, ya think?). Needless to say, when we all saw that they were occupying the top level of the boat, we immediately went to the bottom level.

The boat ride to Koh Rong, our final destination, is supposedly two hours but actually closer to two and a half or three -- so long. When we arrived, a chipper expat hopped on the boat to inform us that there would be a briefing about the island's "activities" at the nearby guesthouse, but sensing a backpacker trap, my flatmate and I jumped off the boat as soon as possible and went peeling away from the backpacker area of the island, filled with dorm rooms and "As long as you're still drinking, we're still open" signs.

I have yet to really understand the bungalow phenomenon, let alone the concept of an "upscale" bungalow, but the place we went was supposedly upscale -- I guess that means you pay for privacy, your own hut, and no backpackers. The bungalow was tucked up into the gently sloping hills, a short walk from the large hut that doubled as common chill out area and restaurant, and the beach.

After some food and getting checked in, we headed straight for the beach for some sunbathing, though I forgot to check that my sunblock wasn't actually water-resistant, and after two and a half hours, I woke up from a nap to discover that I was seriously burned -- actually, as the day went on, it got worse and worse, developing into a very painful red. Whoops.

Sometimes I sits and thinks, and sometimes I just sits. 

The third day, second on the island, passed in peace. Mostly, I sat on a rock in the shade and read, or stared at the water. Later on, when it was dark and nobody was on the beach, I took the recommendation of a friend and went for a late-night, unclothed swim, which wasn't nearly as terrifying as I might have thought, deep water and darkness not being my favorite things in the world. I discovered that the sea there has the special phosphorescent algae that lights up the water when you move your body.

Then it was Monday and time to go back to an uneasily quiet city, but in between Koh Rong and Phnom Penh was a long and rainy boat ride and a longer drive. I was not looking forward at all to the boat ride, as it was a rainy and windy morning. However, I took my towel up to the less-populated upper deck and found the ride to actually be very strangely enjoyable. I realized that the rocking felt much like riding an elephant in Siem Reap, which was quite comforting, and the wind in my face was refreshing, watching the rain move in and out, obscuring the shore and the islands from view. It did get kind of cold when the rain started, but a good samaritan lent me an extra towel to hide under.

The weekend was not really a stop so much as a pause, but it was very welcome. Sleep comes early as there isn't much to do after dark, unless you want to head down to the backpacker area and drink yourself to oblivion (clearly that was high on my priority list). Time moves impossibly slowly when you have nothing to do, and by the end I was glad to return and get back into the swing of things -- though I admit that trying to think again on Tuesday morning after four days of staring at the water and not thinking was a bit of a struggle.

And next time, I'm going to be a bit more careful on that stupid sunblock...