Dirt roads and staying with locals February 8
Two long days. I left Kampong Cham yesterday later than planned due to poor organization. I took the old road to Kampong Thom, planning on spending the night at the town where it joined up with the new road.
I had heard the road was dirt, but still in decent shape. Boy was my information wrong. It was very rocky, and in places downright hilly, the poltholes were so big. I kept thinking it was going to get better, based on the person I’d talked to who recommend it, but it just didn’t.
I finally got fed up with the road, and looked for a way to cut across to the new, paved road. I ran into a man who spoke some english, and he directed me on to go down a side road through a rubber tree plantation. I was joined for part of the way by a group of schoolchildren on bicycles returning from school. As we road through row after row of trees that arched over head, and seemed to fade away on either side of us forever, every so often I’d catch a glimpse of children between the trees, collecting the tree sap from the cups beneath the slash in each tree’s bark.
After some confusing direction finding, and some help from two elderly women with mouths full of bettle nut, I finally made it to the main road. It was starting to get dark, and given my recent experience, I wasn’t too pleased to not be where I was. And I was quite sure whether exactly I was.
I asked around, and indeed there wasn’t a guesthouse. The young man I talked to said, “Oh, I think you back to Skoun. Many guesthouses there. Maybe only 20kms.” That statement was discouraging on so many levels.
I continued on, and came to main village in the district of Baray. I ran into another young man who spoke english, and asked about a guesthouse. They didn’t have one, but right as he was about to pull away, he mentioned that his friend, who was riding behind us on a bicycle, would be willing to let me stay at his house for the night. Perfect! I mentioned I could give him and his family some money in return, and he was more than pleased.
Staying with Khai and his family was great. Khai is nineteen, and is studying english at the local academy. I spent the evening and the next morning talking english with him, and all his other friends from English class. He also took me out to his friends (neighbors?) watermelon patch, for a reson I didn’t understand, but mainly involved all of us sitting under a tree and eating watermelon and lamenting the poor crop this year. They tasted good enough if you ask me:)
Khai was very eager to have me stay a second night, to the point of inventing stories to keep me there (Unfortunately for him, his stories mainly involved how far or short it was to Kampong Thom, my next destination, and it the distance seemed to vary depending on whether I was leaving that day or the next). I finally pried myself away, and had an uneventful ride to Kampong Thom.