5/4/25
We snuck the bikes out at just after 6 am. The receptionist or maybe owners were sleeping on a dirty looking mattress in the lobby. As we rode out of the town, we were still the subject of everyone’s gaze. We pulled into a temple. It was more like a ceremony for the morning almsgiving than we’d ever seen in Thailand.
Further on the road we stopped to buy some little food snacks. All the people were sitting around on the floor and working together on preparing the food. There aren’t straightforward nuclear families here it seems. We were surprised how different the cuisine was. All the foods we’d got used to being by the side of the road had changed. We found some rice and brown sugar wrapped in a roti, some kind of potato cake and some more of the blue bean dessert. Tempura banana was still a thing though.
As we rode up the road we waved and said hello to hundreds, if not thousands, of people. The day starts early here. The micro interactions were tiring but also enjoyable. The road served as a continuous hive of activity. The town never really ended. It just thinned out occasionally.
We couldn’t quite get a handle on the wealth inequality. There was a stock ‘mansion’. The same fancy, glass fronted building, repeated every so often. This was far from the normal accommodation. Most people lived in what we would consider rudimentary buildings. It was the same situation with the vehicles. The divide was more stark when some had fancy pick up trucks and others rode scooters with much of a seat left.
Schoolgirls would come speeding past on their scooters. It would be balmy to see that at home. It was Saturday and we weren’t sure if it was a school day or not. We weren’t sure fairly sure that not all the children were going to school at all. We saw them working and selling things.
Periodically there were fires burning by the side of the road. It was a hodge podge of things. Organic waste but then clothes, other assorted plastics and cans. We tried to hold our breath. Often it was just a barbecue we could smell. It’s not a special occasion thing, it’s constant here. We even saw them frying rats. Their tails were a giveaway.
The N160 went on for miles. We thought that it would become quieter, there would be less houses and shops and so forth. But it didn’t. It was 20 miles of busy activity. We had to focus all the time on the traffic. It didn’t feel dangerous but it did require our constant attention. A scooter could be one person, or five. One scooter even had baby pigs in a cylindrical wicker cage across the back. Tractors were just engines with handles. Some of them were souped up. Huge trailers were being pulled behind them. The road would also vary in quality. We now understood better what had been happening in Thailand. A high quality road massively improves the standard of driving. Clear indications of where you can and can’t go.
We continued to be celebrities. Occasionally we sought refuge in a temple. The tempo tended to be slower. A few people ambling around. They were grander and busier hubs than we’d got used to in Thailand. In one temple some boys were cycling around us. Saying hello back and forth had become common place. Just as we were leaving a young monk came over and gave us a can of cold drink. Coca-Cola sponsors temples apparently.
The tarmac disappeared eventually. We’d chosen a route that stayed off the national highways as much as possible. First it was a crumbly track. Everyone just tried to find the smoothest path through. We joined in and went all over both sides of the road to avoid the worst of it. We missed our turning and it got even worse. The garmin doesn’t have easily available maps for Cambodia so navigation was harder. The next section was very rumbly rough tarmac. We passed a group of workers shouting about something. We arrived just in time to see them throw a wounded snake over the fence. We reached freshly laid concrete slabs. It was smooth and easy going as we got closer to nation highway 5. It wasn’t hounds we had to worry about, but children. They were everywhere. Often stopping dead in their tracks, bewildered by us.
When we hit highway five it all changed. It was basically thailand again. We stopped at a fancy petrol station to use the toilet. There was a ‘Cafe Amazon’. We even saw another white person. Here, we were no longer completely novel. Most people didn’t even look twice, though we still got quite a few greetings.
We turned off again after 3km. There was a shorter way through to highway 6 without going to Sisophon. It was actually signposted Siem Reap, so the chance of it not being tarmac was low. We immediately became celebrities again. Once again it was non-stop built up. We stopped at a few temples to break it up. At the last one a man came over and wanted to practice his English with us. We spent a little while there chatting.
We were hoping to understand how someone becomes a monk, and what makes them stop. A lot of them were young children. This guy used to be a monk but then wanted to earn money after his siblings died. Now he’s a teacher of the monks. He was only 26. We ended up buying ice cream for several monks when the seller arrived. They don’t usually have any money. The whole thing is still very confusing to us.
When we left we were crossing the plains. Finally we’d found some countryside. There was actually a couple of small prominences covered in trees too. We were only 8km away from our end goal. It was stupidly hot and we probably shouldn’t have spent so long hanging around. But we were trying to soak it up.
Dripping with sweat and struggling to cope we pushed as hard as we dared. We had tunnel vision. It was all a bit of a blur. The feels like temperature was 40C. There were traffic lights when we reached Preah Netr Preah. We can’t remember seeing any in Cambodia yet. Down a concrete back road we reached Phanhary guesthouse. A man greeted us and promptly put us on the phone with the owner who spoke English. He ran the English school next door, so it made sense. It was $10 and there was no basin in the bathroom. We spent a while cooling down.
National road 6 was between us and the market. As we were walking into town, we saw a procession based on the back of a truck that was requesting money from the local shops. The market included the usual collection of meat stalls. Little fans unsuccessfully attempting to keep the flies of the slabs of meat. Extremely unappetising. Thankfully there were lots of fruit and vegetable stalls too. After buying some longan and bananas we bought peanuts and dried jujube from a dry foods stall.
Nearby a woman was cooking something that resembled a dosa. Most of the filling was bean sprouts but also chicken. As we stood inspecting it a younger woman on a neighbouring stall interjected and helped us request a meat free version. Grateful for the help, we pulled up a stool. It was an unusual dish compared to what we’d had recently, it wasn’t spicy at all. It cost 2000 Riel or 50 cents.
We strolled around a bit more. We had to be patient and wait for our presence to become less noticed. Young children would stare relentlessly. Even after we waved hello they remained bewildered by our presence. We bought some jackfruit and lychees too. On the way home we bought some water. It cost 4000 Riel for 3 litres. Two small bottles of soya milk were 5000.
When we got back we met the voice on the end of the phone. He asked us a little about our trip. We already knew that many cyclists stayed, that was the reason we did too. He told us he had to buy the water too and it cost him the same price. It’s a significant outlay for most people. Negotiating the price of food in the markets is apparently normal. We aren’t keen on it. The amounts they’re asking for are usually far less than we have to pay at home, and people here have far less than us. We reaffirmed our stance with each other; if it’s too much we just walk away, haggling feels a bit cruel.
The air conditioning wasn’t particularly effective. Perhaps the outside temperature is too high. Our room had a fan too which helped. We ate from our monstrous supply of fruit and watched What About Brian. We’d never finished it back in Turkey, and the internet was non-existent here. We were lucky to be able to send a text message.
Surly They Won't Make It 