Cambodian John Denver

Entry 21:
In Southeast Asia, most travel agents sell you a bus ticket that includes pickup from their guesthouse in a minivan. Without exception, they always arrive later than the time they tell you in the agency. Our bus to Battambang was supposed to leave at 8am, so we were ready for pickup at 7:30am. Needless to say, our bus did not leave until 9:30am. This really did not start us off well, but it got worse yet. Our four-hour bus ride was extremely bumpy and without air-con. The only saving grace was that we had been assigned the first row of seats on the bus. At least Sharon could crack a faint smile when the manic bus driver pounded his fist on the steering wheel, but no sound came out of the horn.

For some reason, we had thought that Battambang would be a charming small town with French colonial architecture. At least that is what the guidebook had indicated. But when we got there we could not find anything remotely charming or French. Most businesses did not speak English and there was not much to see for tourists. We had high hopes for the Smokin Pot restaurant if for only the name itself. To entertain ourselves, we found our way over to the Seeing Hands massage parlor where we enjoyed a one hour Cambodian rub down. Afterwards, Marc got to talking with the blind masseurs just to hear their stories. Two of the men lost their sight when landmines exploded in the countryside. This is not uncommon in Cambodia as there are thousands of leftover explosives from decades of wars.

The next morning, in an attempt to get out of this not-so-charming town, we found our way to a taxi company which would transfer us as well as one other couple to the Thai border. The driver was a friendly local who, in his frequent trips, managed to get his hands on a mixed tape of American country music. He especially liked to sing along to the John Denver smash hit - Country Roads. In his own creative way, he embellished the lyrics to reflect our current adventure. At the time, his version - Bumpy Roads - was more appropriate. After three hours in the car, our necks could attest that these were, in fact, very bumpy roads.