The journey to Sihanoukville (Cambodia) from Ho Chi Minh City (Vietnam) was one of the longest days of travelling of my entire trip to Asia. It began at 8am when my travel companion Sam and I were met at our hostel by a Vietnamese man who led us to our bus. It turned out to be about a 10 minute walk from the hostel, which we weren’t expecting. At 8am, with heavy bags and not enough sleep, this was not particularly welcome. We got to the bus and hung around for a while as luggage was piled onto the bus, and tickets were handed out. It was at this point that it became apparent that some people on the bus had got a ticket all the way to Sihanoukville, whereas we were scheduled to get off in Phnom Penh and make our own way onto another bus. Hindsight is a wonderful thing.
The bus took a couple of hours to get to the border, where we had to get out of the bus, unload our bags and carry them through border control to leave Vietnam, followed by immigration and visa check for Cambodia. The bus driver sorted most of this out for us and it was easy, although rather boring. I braved the toilets on the Cambodian side, and wished I hadn’t. Eventually, we got back on the bus and drove for only about another half an hour before stopping at a run-down cafe for lunch. I didn’t fancy anything on offer so I bought a can of coke and some crisps for later. Back on the bus, we proceeded to Phnom Penh, where we arrived about 3pm. Here, many of the passengers were taken to their next bus, continuing on to Sihanoukville on the coast. We found a timetable on display and worked out that there was a bus in 20 minutes. So I left Sam to wait for our bags to be unloaded from the bus and went to queue for tickets. The queue took forever, people kept pushing in and chatting to the lady behind the screen for ages. Eventually I got to the front of the queue and she told me that the bus, which was now leaving in just 5 minutes, was full. Thankfully, she sold me a ticket for the next bus after that, but we’d have to wait till 5pm for it. I agreed, paid and found Sam and our bags again. We decided we should try and get some food and stock up on a few essentials, so we hauled our bags across the busy road to a small supermarket and then across to a fairly unpleasant-looking restaurant, the only thing we could see nearby, and ate some questionable noodles. In all fairness, they didn’t make us sick, so I’ll consider that a win. We killed a couple of hours and got back on the bus for the final time.
The drive to Sihanoukville was long, bumpy, windy and tedious. We stopped a few times along the way at small road-side restaurants where you could buy noodles and use the toilet. Day became night and it got eerier each time we stopped in increasingly remote locations. Finally, just when I was losing the will to live, we arrived in Sihanoukville. It was about 11pm. We were exhausted and all we knew was that we needed to get a tuk tuk to the Bamboo Shack on Otres Beach. It was almost inevitable that we got screwed over – we were too tired to haggle much. We got the guy down from $20 to $15, knowing full well we shouldn’t pay more than $8. Our first tuk tuk ride was quite hairy. It was pitch black as he drove off into rural Cambodia, we had little idea where we were going except that it was definitely by the beach, which we weren’t. Feeling pretty vulnerable, we both mentally ran through escape plans if all went south. Remarkably, we pulled up on the main street on Otres beach and, relieved we started chatting to the driver to try and find the Bamboo Shack. This took a while and required asking for directions twice, but eventually we located the place. One reason we took so long to notice it, probably, was that it looked very unpromising, especially in the dark. It was a lot nicer inside, and the beach entrance (which realistically is where all their custom comes from), was actually quite inviting. We paid the tuk tuk driver his exorbitant fare and carried our bags inside. Immediately we saw just how close to the beach we were – the seating carried on off the wooden floor onto the sand and hit water within a few meters.
We climbed up the rickety wooden ladder to the second floor where our room was, passing up our luggage as we went, and clambered into the tiny room. We’d been told the room was really great, so it was a surprise to find what was basically a glorified cupboard with a bed crammed in, a mosquito net (with holes in it) and a fan in the corner. We were too tired to ask questions, though. And even if we weren’t there was nobody around to ask questions to. Everyone was fast asleep. And very soon, so were we.
The next morning I woke up to sunshine streaming in the window. I climbed out of bed, threw some clothes on and mentally prepared myself for dealing with the world outside. I climbed down the ladder into the main bar / restaurant area of the bamboo shack, and there were a few people about – a waitress and a few westerners drinking, eating and generally sitting around. I snuck down the side of the bar where the bathrooms were and freshened up. Coming back out again and feeling a little more awake I was suddenly aware of how nice it was. There were comfy chairs spread all across the bar area and out onto the sand, with umbrellas up over them and tables in front. I pottered out across the bar and sat down on the first row of chairs on the beach. The sea lapped across the sand just meters from my feet. Even through the umbrella I could feel how hot the sun was.
After a bit Sam came out to join me and we ordered some breakfast and, after a mishap with our orders, we dealt a second blow of bad news that the room we were staying in had been booked for tonight (New Years Eve) and we’d have to leave as soon as possible so they could clean the room. This was a major problem. Finding accommodation so last minute would be hard, and we had little chance of finding somewhere on Otres beach as it was all booked up for the holiday. We decided we’d have to go out in search of somewhere to stay – we’d start by walking along the beach towards town, asking in any suitable places we saw. If this failed, we’d be in town within half an hour (or so we were told) and we’d start asking around there. So, perhaps a little foolishly, we set out into the midday heat in search of somewhere to stay.
It’s hard work walking along a beach, and it was slow going. We stopped and asked at a few places but it was always the same, often incredulous, answer. Sorry, we haven’t got any rooms left. We wondered about walking on the main street that runs parallel to the beach – it would be much easier and faster to walk along, but signs and entrances for places we might stay would be on the beach, so we might miss them from there. Eventually our question answered itself as the beach bars started to dry up and we headed onto the dirt road instead. It was seriously hot by now, and the occasional tuk tuk that went past was looking pretty favourable.
For a long time we walked along dirt tracks with little in the way of shops, bars or hotels, but eventually we found one quite nice looking place, which was only 5 minutes or so from the beach, but was essentially in the middle of nowhere. We enquired and they said they did have available rooms, but it would be $50 for the two of us. We took a look and the rooms seemed nice, with a balcony and a nice bathroom. It was a lot of money to spend, though. We agreed that we’d see if we could find somewhere cheaper in town and if not we’d come back.
We kept going and eventually we did find our way into town. We had no idea where in town we were, though, and I was starting to feel really dehydrated. We caved and grabbed a tuk tuk, we asked him to take us to where we might find somewhere to stay. He dropped us off a few minutes later but it was well worth the $2 it cost us. We found a shop and I bought an ice cold bottle of water and a can of coke and rehydrated. Then we started in search of somewhere to stay for the night. We found several places that would give us a room, but not for a sensible price – we were quoted $40, then $50, then $70. Considering we were paying $15 between us for the Bamboo Shack, and could have a nice room in a hotel out of town for $50, this seemed a little ridiculous.
We had two other missions to complete in town, buying some sunglasses and flipflops, since Sam had neither and I’d lost my sunglasses. Having completed both these tasks we wandered around a bit more in search of accommodation but found nothing promising, and in the end we decided to head back to the Bamboo Shack and get our things and head to the hotel we’d seen earlier. We hailed a tuk tuk and this time negotiated a much more reasonable price for our 10 minute ride back out to the beach. When we got there, the waitress, who had told us earlier that our room was booked by someone else, was laughing. Apparently she was quite amused by the story she was about to tell us. We were not. It turned out that we’d staying in the wrong room last night – we’d simply gone in the only room we saw which the door was open, but there was another (much, much nicer) room which was also unlocked and was the room we’d booked. The room we’d slept in was so small and nasty that they didn’t usually rent it out at all! So we were welcome to stay on in that room if we wanted, and she’d only charge us $8 a night, since clearly she didn’t really think it was even habitable.
The annoyance at our mistake was ameliorated by the realisation that we didn’t have to move and could stay at Bamboo Shack which is what we’d wanted all along. So, we sat out on the sand and rewarded ourselves for all the exertion with a beer and some delicious western food.
And there we stayed for the rest of the afternoon and early evening. It was very relaxing watching the waves come in and out, and the only disturbance was the regular interruptions by local people trying to sell us sunglasses, massages or jewellery. As the evening approached, a small girl, maybe 12 or 13 years old came over and tried to sell us some fireworks, since it was New Years Eve. We normally said no to pretty much everything, but the girl was tenacious and strangely endearing, and fireworks did seem like a nice idea for later. I had some safety concerns, though…
Nevertheless, Sam was persuaded and bought 5 fireworks with no instructions from the girl before she started trying to sell me a bracelet.
That evening, after we’d eaten, we headed a couple of bars down the beach to meet up with Sam’s cousin, and had a few cocktails while we waited for her to finish work. Time was dragging on though and she was still stuck waitressing, so eventually she sent us on ahead to our intended destination to see the new year in, a bar up the beach from us called ‘Richies’. So we set off down the beach. A lot of the bars along the beach were closing up already – rather strange for New Years Eve, but in the far distance we could see the dim glow of a party, and hear the promising sounds of music. So we kept walking, thinking each time it would be the next bar along, but it wasn’t. We were just beginning to lose hope when we finally found the bar we were looking for, heaving with westerners. We queued up to buy some drinks but discovered we needed first to buy drinks vouchers, so we went inside and eventually found a small table from which a man was selling small paper tickets to an extensive queue of slightly drunk people. We joined the queue.
The evening went on as all New Years Eve’s should – drinks, dancing, laughing gas and finally fireworks on the beach to see in 2014. I stumbled back up the beach to the Bamboo Shack at around 2am, which was surprisingly difficult to locate – all the bars look the same when they’re closed up and dark. It took me three walks up and down the beach before I finally found my way home and collapsed into our cupboard of a room upstairs at the bamboo shack.
New Years Day 2015 began as we intended it to go on: lazily. We woke late, ate a revitalising fried breakfast and sat by the ocean. Mid afternoon I gathered the energy to go for a dip in the sea, which was lovely – the water was warm and unbelievably clear. I thought I saw a jellyfish and decided it was time to get out. The rest of the day lulled by in the most relaxed way. More food, beer and a lot of sitting, toes dug into the sand. It was just a little bit too perfect here. I knew leaving tomorrow was going to be hard.
The next day we persuaded ourselves into town to try and buy tickets for a night bus up to Phnom Penh that evening. We managed to get a tuk tuk to the ticket office where we quickly discovered there was no night bus on offer. Apparently the internet isn’t always accurate… It took very little persuasion before I declared that we should just get a bus tomorrow morning instead. Neither of us really wanted to leave.
So we headed back to the beach and enjoyed another lazy afternoon by the sea, drinking Cambodian beer and indulging on the amazing western food the Bamboo Shack made us. That evening we went back into Sihanoukville for dinner with Sam’s cousin and her boyfriend, and had a really nice meal at a Japanese restaurant. We had a quick drink afterwards and then they left us to it for the rest of the evening so we decided to check out TopCat, a nearby cinema that they’d recommended. The set up was perfect – bring in your own alcohol, food and cigarettes and choose from a near-infinite selection of TV or films on the computer in each private room. They’d even deliver pizza (with ‘happy’ option included free of charge) right to the room. The guy that ran the place was absolutely hilarious and we chatted with him for a while before we headed home to the Bamboo Shack.
Our last night in Sihanoukville came with an added treat – we could move into the larger room we were originally supposed to have, if we wanted. This was nice, but a cruel vision of what could have been – unlike our previous room, this one was light and airy, the bed was big and comfortable and there was even space for a table. The window looked out onto the beach. It was heartbreaking how amazing our stay there would have been if we’d had that room the whole time.
The next morning we dragged ourselves out of bed at around 5am, gathered our stuff, hauled our bags back down the rickety ladder and hailed a tuk tuk. They took us to the bus station were we found and boarded our 7am bus to Phnom Penh. It was going to be another long, hot day on the bus.
