3/4/25
We didn’t leave until just before 10 am. It was going to be just a short ride today. We were just going to cross the border into Cambodia and stay in the first town. If we tried to go further we’d get stuck in no man’s land as the next town was another 65km. Hopefully, it would also act as a kind of rest day. We were pretty exhausted.
As we left, it was obvious this part of Thailand was the least frequented by tourists that we’d visited. We crossed our fingers that we could actually get across at this border checkpoint. It was a little known, recently upgraded to international status, crossing called Phnom Dei.
We should’ve expected it, but we were going uphill all the way. It was actually quite tiring. In the distance we could see forest covered karsts. The roads were quiet. The fields were desolate. The hill was tiny really, but the plains had given us a false sense of ease. The road began to undulate. There were nice woodlands and Buddha images tucked away in little pockets.
More and more karsts started to become visible in the distance. The wind started buffeting us. It felt like a transition zone. An apt place for a border. We swerved through an unmanned checkpoint as we approached Khlong Hat. This was the border town.
There was a pickup truck selling four watermelons for 50 baht. We got charged 30 baht just for one. Maybe we got taxed. Maybe it was because we weren’t buying 4. In the 7-eleven Frankie bought water, and soya milk to satisfy a craving. Jonathan sat outside eating watermelon. We were drawing more attention than usual already, carving into fruit with a knife probably didn’t help. We’d obtained some coconut topped pandan. We hadn’t had it for weeks.
As we left Khlong Hat we got some supportive toots of the horn, waves and thumbs up from passing people. Ban Khao Din is a checkpoint town as far as we could tell. It had a weird grid layout on the map. The signs seemed to suggest it was a ‘temporarily allowed area’. We went through a frictionless military checkpoint and just got some odd looks. We could see the border now. The area was almost dominated by a market. But the huge gateway with garudas either side was even more prominent.
We almost stopped to peruse the stalls but our anxiety about the border crossing was too much. We wanted certainty about getting through, as soon as possible. As we cycled through we were subject to a lot of staring. Phnom Dei definitely wasn’t a popular border crossing for foreigners. There was no clear indication of which way to go.
A man from the ‘reentry permit’ hole in the wall came out and requested to see our passports. We hesitated to hand them over. Noel, the Irish guy we’d given our bike boxes to, had warned us not to let people have them easily. We understood from the gestures that we needed to go to the hole in the wall on other side and get stamped out. They checked our fingerprints, right hand fingers only, and then inked our passports. We’d been in Thailand 52 days in total. During all this, the border official, wearing a Caribbean shirt, had called the ‘other side’ to let them know we were coming.
We cycled across the bridge over the Nam Sai river. The only other vehicles crossing seemed to be lorries. On the other side a man came out to meet us. He spoke fantastic English. He directed us to a hole in the wall to receive a visa. Another excellent English speaker took our passports and after 5 minutes returned them, visa inside. Cambodia is one of the only countries that offers a true ‘visa on arrival’. Almost anyone, bar about 10 countries, can just rock up. We were able to pay in baht. 1300 each. No photo needed. Back to one more hole in the wall to fill out an arrival card. They took all our finger prints. And thumbs. We stared into a webcam, and we were free to go.
Almost free, one more checkpoint where they wanted our passports again. There was no welcome to Cambodia sign. Instead it said something about the ‘people’s party of Cambodia’. We cycled past the numerous people looking at us. It felt like we were actually exploring a foreign place for the first time. There was a big market. We’d found a guesthouse that was apparently behind it. A rough track and there it was.
It was like a little walled compound. A line of rooms inside, all with car ports. A man and a woman came out. They could speak minimal English, but better than we’d found in Thailand. The room looked comfortable. No fridge. A sign inside said ‘no weapons’, and also ‘no child sex’. Mildly concerning.
We suddenly felt lost. We’d rushed over the border in our state of irrational fear of being rejected. Now we were in a completely new country. With a new language. And we didn’t have any money. We couldn’t even pay for the hotel. He’d asked for $13. We stayed inside for a couple of hours. Putting new maps on the garmin. Writing some blog.
We traipsed into the town. The Sun was exceedingly powerful. We walked through the market under the gaze of everyone, crossed the road, and went into the Acleda bank. We pondered our transaction in front of the cash machine for several minutes. Continuously pressing ‘more time’. We didn’t know how much or what to get out. We eventually rounded on taking out $500. Hopefully the recent events in America had rewarded us with more than we would have received the day before.
Five one hundred dollar bills were pretty much useless to us. Who would have change for that? As we sat in the lobby to figure out our next move, a bank clerk sensed our confusion and came over. She had good English and told us we could change a large bill to something smaller at the counter. Now we had $10 bills. Still no use to buy food at the market.
We’d read about the exchange booths that were dotted around everywhere. Just up the road from the bank was one such counter. We changed $10 and received just under 40000 Riel. Incomprehensibly large numbers. This was going to be confusing. We went to a store to buy some cold water. 1100 Riel. They took the money out of hands for us. We also bought some cashews. 10000 Riel.
Eager to find some cooked food we headed up the street. The first place we found had some hope inspiring English writing on their glass doors. We should have known better. After a lengthy back and forth with google translate the young woman was very clear. “We have no vegetables”. The pictures in their menu suggested otherwise. Not wanting to pay $3 just for some chips we left.
It was demoralising. We felt exhausted and frustrated. We were wearing thin on patience and getting on each others nerves. We walked back through the market and bought some random bits and pieces to cobble a meal together. Fried dough, an avocado, sapodilla, dragonfruit and bananas. Some more water too.
When we got back we found the avocado and sapodilla were unripe. Not great. We tried to eat what we could without it bothering us. We diluted the coconut milk with water to make it go further. There were some small bags of cornflakes we’d picked up somewhere. And some dates. Before we went to sleep the owner came to the door in full military garb. He reminded us to keep hold of our valuables. It made us a little nervous. We asked if it was an unsafe place and he reassured us it wasn’t. Mixed messages. ‘Welcome to Cambodia’ we thought.
Surly They Won't Make It 