Since nobody’s travelling anywhere in 2020, like everyone else, we’ve been reminiscing about trips in days long, long ago.  As always, these tales are mostly true.  

Cambodia – Part One

We feel we’ve somehow stepped into a scene from an old Humphrey Bogart movie – the cheap wooden chairs, overhead fans that do little to dispel the cloying tropical heat, and the three rows of sombre looking guys in military uniforms.  What’s worse, they took our passports away ten minutes ago, for – ‘examination’.

Nanette gives me the “this was your idea!” look.  I must admit, this part of our trip is in fact fulfilling a dream I’ve had ever since I read that exciting story about the ‘lost city of the jungle’ way back in my childhood.  So, here we are, waiting passport-less in the crowded little immigration room of the old Siem Reap International Airport, Cambodia.  We smile at the nearest official, but he only frowns.  Hmm, this isn’t going well.  

Finally, the guy with our passports returns from some hidden back room.  He announces very gravely – “We have approved your visas.  The Captain was a bit concerned as you have come from Pakse (southern Laos), but you do not look like the other tourists who come on this flight.”  I look around at the motley crew of unshaven (and probably unwashed) twenty-somethings that accompanied us on the flight.  He hands us our passports and points to a man behind a small wooden desk near the door.  “If you pay that man six US dollars, he will give you a voucher for the taxi to your hotel.”  We dutifully pay the man, collect the hand-written receipt, and emerge into the burning sunshine.

There’s a small orderly row of taxis waiting outside.  We follow the directions of another uniformed guy and climb into the first cab.  The driver is strangely silent as he loads our luggage and deposits us in the back of his old, but well kept, Toyota.  As we pull away from the airport, he smiles, and half turns towards us.  “Hi.  My name is Jimmy.  How long are you staying in Siem Reap?  I would very much like to be your driver while you are here.”

His offer takes us a bit by surprise.  We’re travelling alone in a strange, and potentially dangerous, country.  Do we put our lives in the hands of this smiling young man, or do we take the ‘safe’ option of relying on our hotel to arrange day tours to the main tourist spots?  As if sensing our dilemma, Jimmy tells us that he is working hard to pay off his taxi. “The company keeps most of the fare from the airport, so we all try to get the tourists to choose us for their other trips.”  I suspect this is a standard story each taxi driver tells, but there’s something about Jimmy that comes across as honest and sincere. Nanette and I look at each other.  The silent thought passes between us – “Six dollars, and they keep most of it?”  “Sure, Jimmy, we’d love you to look after us.”

Jimmy’s smile lights up his face.  “Thank you!  I can take you places this afternoon, or you can just relax at your hotel, or you can take a tuk-tuk into town, or you can …”  Jimmy’s enthusiasm is overflowing and infectious, but we’re feeling weary.  We started our day very early in the rural town of Salavan, Lao PDR, travelled the rough, narrow ‘highway’ to the slightly larger regional centre of Pakse, negotiated customs and baggage at Pakse’s tiny ‘international’ airport, and now – we’re in Cambodia.  “Just take us to our hotel please Jimmy.”  “Ok, I’ll be waiting for you in the morning.  We can go to Angkor Watt, and Angkor Thom, and the floating village, and …”

We say goodbye to Jimmy, with genuine intentions of settling into the hotel and maybe relaxing by the pool for a bit.  Less than thirty minutes and three cool drinks later, Nanette looks at me – “that tuk-tuk ride sounds like fun.”

So, here we are, sitting under the awning of a little café in downtown Siem Reap.  It’s now raining so hard we can hardly see the markets on the other side of the street.  Some tourists behind us are grumbling and lecturing the waiter about ensuring their coffee is “hot, really hot!”  From our relatively dry vantage point, we watch the tuk-tuks, motorbikes and occasional hand cart trying to negotiate the torrential downpour.  What would Bogie say if he were here now?  I guess he’d just look across at Lauren Bacall and say “to be continued …”