Adventures in Cambodia
Part II: Shihanoukville

[I forgot to mention that after our 3 days of cycling in Siem Reap, we spent an extra day there relaxing, and visited a silk farm which was very interesting and informative. It's part of an initiative to preserve Khmer artistic traditions, provide skills training and fair working conditions in rural areas. I have some photos of the whole process, so if you're interested in 'em, let me know.]

Early Saturday morning, we boarded a bus for a loooong day, but between dozing and being mesmerized by the scenery passing outside the window, it wasn't so bad. We finally arrived in Shihanoukville around 6:30pm and headed to our arranged accommodation, which we thought was 2 bungalows. Instead, we wound up with 1 hotel room. The next day, we did a little searching and found a lovely place right on the beach that had a 4-bed room, so we could all stay together. That afternoon, we went for a walk to explore our environs, and came across Scuba Nation. The next thing I know, I'm in a swimming pool wearing a tank on my back and flippers on my feet...and enjoying myself! I signed up with Jen and Annelie to go on a full-day scuba adventure on Tuesday.

Before going scuba diving though, we had also arranged to go snorkeling for $10 through our hotel. The BBQ fish-on-the-beach lunch that was provided made the trip worthwhile. The rest was, ah, let's just say it was memorable. We started the day wading out into the surf to climb aboard the swaying boat. We puttered our way out to sea, and the captain pulled up near an island and just stopped the boat. We selected our masks and snorkels from a bag of badly battered gear, and, along with the rest of the passengers, just jumped off the boat and started looking under the water trying to see some aquatic life. In about 2 minutes time, I realized that the current seemed awfully strong. I had my face underwater, and was swimming forward...but according to the rock below me, I was actually moving backwards. I looked up and realized that the boat was now very far away. I gave up looking for sea life, and started swimming back towards the boat. Annelie, Jen and Tracy were nearby, and we all noticed our dilemma around the same time. We all started swimming for all we were worth. Annelie and I, both hampered by our life jackets, were getting nowhere. Tracy (a very strong swimmer, by the way), was hampered by her broken mask and snorkel and wasn't faring much better. Jen, swimming flat out for maybe 20+ minutes finally made it back to the boat, and got him to come and pick us up. In the meantime, the three of us huddled together, had given up trying to swim, and were bobbing along towards Vietnam. The boat finally came to fetch us, and we spent the next 2 hours lying in a hammock on a beach while lunch was prepared and eaten. (That, I think, was the best part of the day.)

What a difference a day makes. The next day we left our snorkel experience behind us and headed out to sea again. This time, we were on much larger boat, and went much farther afield. (asea?) We went on two dives (with lunch in between) and I absolutely loved every minute of it. (Except when I thought that maybe we had lost Annelie, but we didn't. Not really.) According to more experienced divers, visibility wasn't that great, since it was a windy day, and the bottom was getting churned up. However, since I was just so excited to be breathing underwater, I didn't mind. While I saw some pretty blue fish, and some brown ones, and some coral, I mostly just tried to make sure I could still see my diving instructor. He was awfully patient and handsome, so I wasn't all that interested in the fish anyway. (Just kidding, the fish were nice too.) Anyway, you can see from the picture that I had a great time. I couldn't wipe that grin off my face for the rest of the day. I finally found a watersport that I can do without getting a sunburn or sunstroke, and allows me to hang-out on a boat for hours getting to and from the dive site! It's ideal.

The next day, we just kicked around on the beach and did a little exploring. We also got to know Ha and Han better. They were two women who worked on the beach during the day offering massages, threading, manicures, pedicures, etc. We had met them a few days earlier, and when business was slow, they would come and talk with us for a while. We chatted with them and saw pictures of their kids and shared some laughs. For the most part, the Cambodians and the tourists move in very different, very separate spheres. It was nice to spend some time interacting with some Cambodian women about my age.

The following day, our bus left Shihanoukville around 2pm. Around 1:30, my stomach started feeling a little queasy. Just a little. Around 1:59 it was definitely getting worse. 10 minutes after the bus pulled away from the station, the chicken sandwich I'd had that morning struck back with a vengeance. I'll spare you the details of the next 4 hours, but I will let you know that (a) I'm glad we spent the extra $2 for a bus with a bathroom on it, (b) I sincerely apologize to the other 39 passengers on board, and (c) it's a good thing the hostess on the bus came armed with a full can of air freshener.

That was the condition I was in upon our arrival in Phnom Penh and was led, carried, steered, and ushered to the hotel by my helpful and sympathetic friends.

Adventures in Cambodia
Part I: Siem Reap

Our time in Siem Reap was in itself almost two vacations in one. On one hand, we spent our evenings enjoying the lush gardens at our hotel, open-air restaurants (with delicious food and even delicious-er ambiance), and trolling through the various markets. (This is the view from our hotel window. Try and imagine the sound of a little fountain, and a cool breeze along with it.) On the other hand, we spent our days cycling and cycling and cycling, until POOF an ancient temple would emerge from the jungle and need to be explored.

Our first day, the cycling was almost luxurious. We started off early in the morning (with our cycling guide) along broad, flat, tree lined avenues. I settled into my saddle, ready for a long ride when we came to a T-junction, and huge stone walls and faces (and small, very lively monkeys) emerged from behind the trees. That day, I never did feel like we cycled very far. We did tour through Ta Prohm (aka the Tomb Raider Temple) with the huge tree roots enveloping the massive stones, Angkor Thom (with the big stone 4-sided face), and finally, Angkor Wat itself. Our temple guide was very knowledgeable, although we had some trouble tuning our ears to his accent, and deciphering a litany of unfamiliar Hindu, Buddhist, and Khmer names. Eventually, I gave up trying to remember if such-and-such a temple was built by King Jayavarman VII, and dedicated to Vishnu, or if it was built by King Suryavarman II and dedicated to Shiva, or if it was actually dedicated to Buddha, but later had all the Buddha's chiseled off by a Hindu preferring king. Instead, I turned my attention to the exquisite details of the carving, and the realization that I was actually standing in the jungle temples of Cambodia.

Our second day of cycling took us far from the cool, breezy boulevards of the previous day, and out along the tourist forsaken backroads of Cambodia. It will remain in my memory as one of the most unique bike rides of my life. We cycled for hours along long, flat, dusty, grimy, gritty, hot, unpaved roads. I loved every minute of it. Cars were few and far between, but wooden houses built high on stilts were not. Shade was sparse, but the landscape was stunning. Not a tourist (or tourist shop) was to be seen, but children all along the route would come running out from under their houses to smile shyly, say hello, or even high-five us as we rode past. I was sure that by the end of 20 minutes cycling in that heat and beating sun I would be curled up in the ditch suffering from heat stroke - but after 1 or 2 or even 3 hours ( I didn't wear my watch, so I really don't know how long it took us to cycle 30 or 40km) I still felt great, and never once muttered nasty things under my breath about Annelie making me cycle all over Cambodia in the blazing sun. That day, at the end of our journey, we visited Bantay Srei, which displays the most detailed and intricate carvings of all the Angkor temples. That night, I spent hours scrubbing red dusty sunscreen paste out of every wrinkle in my skin, and grinning all the while.

On our third, and final, day of cycling, we set out down Siem Reap's main thoroughfare. As we kicked off from the curb, our guide said "Stay to the right, keep moving, don't panic. Let's go." Right. Somehow, Jen managed to get a picture of Annelie and I pedaling along surrounded by motorbikes, tuk-tuks, cars and buses. I'm so glad I could only see the traffic infront of, and directly beside me. Once we pool all our pictures, I'll post that one here for you to see. (Mom, maybe you'd better not look.) Honestly, I don't even remember what temple we saw that day - I think it was Bakong. Later that afternoon, our temple visits complete, we stowed our bikes in the support van and headed for the floating village. We sailed past houses, schools, churches, gas stations, libraries, and even a regulation sized basketball court all bobbing along in the river.

Also while in Siem Reap, I discovered the joys of pepper. I had read that Cambodia was famous for it's Kampot pepper, but I thought to myself, "Right. Pepper. Black stuff, you sprinkle it on eggs, hangs out next to the salt, makes you sneeze. How exciting can that be?" Well, the first time I bit into a cluster of little green balls tightly crowded onto a thin stem, I was impressed. I've never had 'fresh' pepper before, and it was delicious. For the rest of the trip, I appreciated the black peppery taste in so many of the dishes I enjoyed in Cambodia. My sad little shaker of dull, generic, has-lived-a-long-shelf life pepper in my kitchen cupboard will never measure up.

That's it for Siem Reap. In Part II: Shihanoukville, we'll head to the beach.

Adventures in Angkor...

I'm off to Cambodia in the morning, so I won't be posting for a while. It will be kind of like how I haven't been posting even when I've been here, except that I'll be not posting from a different place.

Adventures in Swoosh, Swoosh, Swooshing...
Happy Lunar New Year, everyone! The Year of the Pig got off to a great start at YeongPyong Ski Resort. Infact, we've decided that a Lunar New Year ski trip has now become an annual tradition. Saturday, Sunday and Monday were spent merrily on the slopes. Saturday began bright an early, leaving home at 4:10 a.m. in order to catch the 5:00 a.m. bus to the resort. 4 1/2 hours later, we arrived and got settled into our accomodation, got our equipment rented, our passes attached to our jackets, and our instructor secured.

The past two times I've gone skiing in Korea, I haven't bothered with an instructor, but the two people I was with wanted one, and I figured it had been so long since I'd had a lesson, I might learn something. (The fact that the instructor, John, was super-cute might have had a little something to do with that!) The lesson was 2 1/2 hours long, and by the end of it, we were all pretty confident of our skills on the beginner slopes. We continued skiing until the last possible moment our afternoon passes would allow, then trekked back to our room. After hot cups of tea or cocoa were consumed, and hot showers had by all, we slept soundly. The fantastic thing about Korean style rooms after a long day of skiing, is that you sleep on a thick pad right on the heated floor. It's like having a nice warm heating-pad directly applied to all your aching muscles.

I won't go into great detail about the rest of the trip (up the lift, down the hill, up the lift, down the hill, etc.) I'll just summarize like this: My favourite hill was 1400 meters high, with a run of 5.8km. It took me about 25 mintues to get to the bottom (I took my time), and the view was incredible. During the entire weekend, I only fell once, and that was just a little topple-over during my lesson. John was trying to teach me to swoosh, swoosh, swoosh, with my skis parallel, instead of the basic A-shaped snowplow. My swoosh, swoosh is going to take a little more practice! By the end of the weekend, my cheeks were (and still are) wind-burnt into a stunning shade of pink, my muscles feel a bit sore, but good, and my lungs are so full of mountain-fresh air, they think they've been in Canada.

If the rest of the Year of the Pig continues as well as it began, it's going to be a very good year!