GOOOOOOOD MORNING VIETNAAAAAAAAAM!!

Day 30, April 20^th

Great, another sleepless night.  All my fault.  This sunburn is still completely insufferable.  Sleeping hurts.  Showering hurts.  At times, breathing hurts.

I need another day of doing nothing and sitting as motionless as possible.  Today is no such day.  We have a looong day of traveling.

I’m stoked though.  I have been looking forward to this part of the trip more than any other.  Since I first visited in 2002, Vietnam has been my favorite country to travel in.  I loved everything about it.  The people.  The food.  The serenity of the countryside.  The energy of the cities.  The colors.  The smells.  Everything.  Beautiful.

Today we leave Cambodia and cross over into Vietnam.

From inside the minibus.

It is going to be a long day and we have an early departure.  All three of us are up early and meet down at a café across from our hotel for breakfast.  The usual.  While our eggs do a grease slide down our throats we see some busses pull up.  One of them might be ours and I haven’t even started packing.  I know, surprise.  The kids are packed and ready, but Patton doesn’t want anything to prevent us from getting out of this town.  We quickly pay up and head back to the hotel.

As we cross through the lobby, we see a German couple that is checking out.  Their luggage is open on the floor of the lobby and the staff are double-checking to see if they are hijacking any hotel goods.  I have never seen any hotel act so militant as this.

I hope they don’t frisk the kids cause I know they are boosting the mini toiletries from every hotel we have been in on this trip.  Her idea, not his.  She keeps saying the grandkids will love this when we get home.  And every time she tries to cram in another mini-toothbrush and shower cap I bust out laughing.  He is quick to defend in saying that saving money by doing things like this when I was young is what got me through college.  I quickly shut my mouth.

But, with the hotel staff as vigilant as they are, the kids have a better chance of strapping bars of hash to their chest and making it out of a Turkish airport.  If they knew the story of Billy Hayes, they would have been flushing shampoo down the toilet by now.

A regular day's work.

I’m gonna let them handle this one on their own.

I get to my room and do a quick cram/pack job.  I look out the window and the kids are already down there waiting on the bus.  Mom is chilling with the bags.  Patton is trying to figure out which bus is ours and be chill at the same time.  He mainly doesn’t like it when we have a time to make and all three of us are not together. 

These busses are never on time and they never leave anyone behind.  He’ll be fine when I get down there.

I finally get all of my stuff in my backpack, do one last room check, count all four towels again and I head out the door. 

It is like a DEA drug bust waiting to go down.  The moment I step out of my room four people appear and converge on my room from four different directions.  One of them is on her walkie-talkie informing everyone that the “suspect” has left the room and to move in.  By the time I get to the lobby, security and the head of housekeeping are waiting for me along with several front desk employees.  I am kindly asked to wait while a “routine check” of my room takes place.  All of them stand there, walkie-talkies at the ready with arms folded or hands on their hips like the Khmer Untouchables.  Silence.  Waiting.  Ready to spring into action should the call come down that a washcloth is M.I.A.  We wait.  They look uncomfortable.  The phone rings.  All linens and bath towels are accounted for.  A collective sigh of relief comes from the Not-So-Toughies and they all relax.  I am released to go.

Amazingly, after the horrible experience here, they still have the oysters to thank me for my patronage, ask me to come back again soon and ask me to recommend them to my friends.  I told them I would.

She should use her hand to protect his face!

In keeping with my promise I would like to take a quick moment and say if you are planning to go to Sihanoukville, Cambodia, which I highly encourage, I recommend you DO NOT go to the Serendipity Beach Resort.  Go ANYWHERE ELSE!!  You will have a much better time at any other place as long as they continue to operate under the “Assume everyone is nailing a Khmer hooker and soiling our towels/linens and must pay for it” policy.

Now sprung from the Serendipity prison I find the kids on the sidewalk and Patton still trying to figure out which bus is ours.

In getting our tickets to Saigon, we specifically didn’t want to backtrack and go through Phnom Penh.  We found a more direct southern route through Chau Doc.  Apparently it is not a heavily traveled route during the low season.  It took us a while to find an agency that carried the route and even then we weren’t sure we would get the route we wanted.  All we knew when we purchased the tickets is that at the end of today we would be in Saigon.

Right now there are two busses and it is hard to tell which one is going through Chau Doc and which one is going to Phnom Penh.  I finally get enough head nods from one of the drivers to convince me his bus is the one we want.

We cram our bags in the back, pile in and it is packed.  A few more people pile in and we are at capacity.  More people.  Above capacity.  Typical Cambodia.

Finally the bus groans to life and we struggle up the rocky dirt road.

We make a couple of other stops, pick up a few more people and then arrive at the main bus station.  More confusion.  We are told to wait 15 minutes and then we will get on another bus that isn’t here yet.

A very peaceful home.

I post the kids up with the luggage and do some searching.  I want to double check about the bus we are supposed to get on.  Not too long into my search our original bus rolls back up with more people to drop off.  It is also the same bus that is taking us to Chau Doc.

Again, we cram our bags in the back and pile in.  Thankfully not as many people this time.  The bus then drives back to the same street our hotel was on and picks up another couple.  Then we go back to the bus station because the driver forgot his sack lunch.  So much for not backtracking.

Finally, we leave Sihanoukville.

Not too long into the drive it starts raining.  That mixed with some tunes and I start drifting in and out as we bounce down the road to Vietnam

We make a few stops and drop off some travelers in cities along the way, eventually coming to the border.  We certainly didn’t get the route we wanted.  Instead of Chau Doc, we are at the Phnom Dem/Tinh Bien crossing.  Better than going through Phnom Penh and we’ll definitely be in Saigon tonight.  No big deal.

The cross out of Cambodia is a bit confusing since we aren’t exactly sure if we are where we are suppose to be.  We already have Vietnamese visas and just need the stamps.  Our guide handles the transition and we eventually end up in Tinh Bien on the Vietnamese side.  Very different.

Vietnam is more developed in every aspect of society and it is immediately evident.  The transportation is equally different.  Much nicer.  Much more comfortable.  Much safer.

Amazing balancing act.

In Tinh Bien we wait for a connecting bus, eat a little lunch, and get caught in a typical downpour.  We eventually load up in the connecting bus and drive for about an hour to the next connecting city.  A small break, a strong cup of bus stop coffee and we switch busses for the final leg.  Several more hours and one dinner break later we arrive in Saigon.  But not downtown in the city.

We are dropped off at a bus station out on the edge of town.  As soon as we step off of the bus, we are pounced on by taxi and tuk-tuk drivers.  All promise a cheap ride to anywhere in the city.  Thankfully we have tickets for a free ride in a minivan from the bus station to downtown, arranged through our travel company.

We pile in, a short ride downtown and we are let out on some random street with no clue of where we are.  Of course, there are taxis and tuk-tuks waiting.  We grab a taxi and head down to the backpacker haven, the same area I stayed in back in 2002.  I have the name of the place we want to go to, but we can’t find it.  We pass by where it should be several times and no dice.  Turns out it is a common practice for places to rename themselves to either distance themselves from bad reviews or to coattail on the success of a popular hotel’s name. 

We ditch looking for the original place and find another one.  The immaculate lobby belies the reality of the rooms.  It’s a tight triple room with three single beds.  We are too exhausted to keep looking.

Mom, a true soldier of sleep, is showered, in bed, mask properly affixed and asleep before dad and I can set our backpacks down.

I finally hop in the shower and wash away the day’s grime from traveling.  As I come out of the shower I hear what sounds like water pouring out onto the ground.  I look up and see a stream pouring form the A/C.  Patton hadn’t heard it.  We quickly turn off the A/C and I head down to the front desk to let ‘em know what’s up.

This cow doesn't want to follow.

Patton is a bit pissed at this point.  I can see the red rising in his face.  He thinks if you pay for something it should work, or concessions should be made.  And he is right.  But some times, most times when traveling, it is easier just to roll with it. 

One of the hotel staffers, a young kid, shows up with a straw.  I don’t know much about A/Cs, but that stream of water that now soaks the carpet is going to need more than a drinking straw to be fixed.  Patton seems irritated that this isn’t going to be a repair, but just a temporary band-aid fix.  The kid does an impressive balancing act by standing on a trashcan that he places on the desk.  He sticks the straw in some opening and blows and moves some water around with his hand.  A quick wipe of everything, replaces the trashcan, a polite bow and he disappears.

That’s it?

Oddly, Patton is calm now.  And as I figured, I know nothing about A/Cs.  He said what the kid did will at least fix the A/C for the few days we are here. 

A bit past 1AM and we both crawl in our small single beds and lay there listening to the high octane energy of the city street right outside of our window.  He admits that this is the most comfortable bed he has slept in on the entire trip.  Mom hasn’t moved a muscle since her head hit the pillow the first time.  Quite impressive.

No more towel/linen inspectionly yours,

Eliot Hayes

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GOOD NIGHT, CAMBODIA

Day 29, April 19th

After the past two days here in Sihanoukville, our expectations are very low and there are no plans at all today.

I'll suffer through a sunburn for this.

My sunburn is still beyond painful and I am starting to get the water blisters everywhere.  Last night was another painful night spent trying to find a comfortable position and slowly peeling the sheets off of me.  It serves me right.

We are up a little later than usual.  The three of us head down to breakfast about mid morning.  Patton and I enjoy our usual grease with a side of eggs, under cooked bacon, toast, coffee and orange drink.  We’re convinced it is Tang mainly because it is crunchy.  Mom dines on a piece of toast and Lipton’s hot tea.  I don’t think she has had anything other than that for breakfast the entire time we have been traveling.

Over breakfast we discuss the upcoming plan of action.  Today is our last day here in Sihanoukville as well as our last day in Cambodia.

A few kids working.

Early tomorrow morning we leave by bus and arrive in Saigon, Vietnam sometime tomorrow night.  My guess is things will be suspect until we hit the border and then smooth sailing to Saigon.  If I remember correctly, the transportation system in Vietnam has its act together much better than Cambodia.  Nevertheless, we need to make sure we have enough snacks and water in case we go a long stretch without stopping.  Of course, the exact opposite is usually what happens and we stop way too much.  But, a good rule to follow when backpacking is to always have some food and water on you.  We need to inventory and stock up.

We also need to resolve the issue with the towel.  We have to pick it up today and turn it in to the front desk at the hotel.  I just hope that girl is there and not the dude.

After breakfast, we split up.  The kids head into town to check it out.  I again head to the beach.

I know, I know, I have a horrible sunburn and there is no reason I should be there.  And you are right.  But, instead of sprawling out like my manties-clad brethren from snorkeling the day before, I plan to slide under an umbrella and stay fully clothed.

Not a bad way to spend the day.

As I get down to the beach, it is noticeably quieter.  There are fewer tourists and fewer hawkers.  The Khmer New Year is completely over and most people have returned to the big cities.  And being so empty, there is a high demand for my business.  Every bar and restaurant has a few people outside trying to coax me into their beach chairs and under their umbrellas.  Naturally, I pick the place where the people put forth the least effort to secure my patronage.  My thinking is they will likely not hassle me when I eventually fall asleep.

It is a really beautiful day today.  A light breeze.  A bit cloudy.  The water is blue.  And no noise.  It is as if everyone woke up from a bad bender, and most probably did.  They are certainly doing their thing, but not with the same energy, just going through the motions.  The hawkers display their wares, but almost listlessly.  They hold them up, all I do is smile and they just keep on moving.  Quite nice indeed.

I pull out my ipod and tune in to a chill Café Del Mar medley, lay back and watch time crawl by.

My new friend.

A couple of naps, a few mango smoothies, several Tiger beers and one plate of french fries later and it is about time to pack up and head back.  As I am about to go, a couple of kids come up and start chatting me up.  They hold up their bracelets for sale and I lazily look at them.  A couple of them are interesting.  The kids aren’t selling hard, they are just bored and we do less business and more talking.

While we are talking, I see the foul-mouthed girl from two days ago turning up the heat on a group of Sihanoukville newbies.  She gives them a right nice welcome and tells them to, “Go back to your F*#@!%G country!”  I’m guessing they didn’t buy either.

I get a couple of skull and crossbones bracelets for two special Hellions from my new friends and I mosey on out of there.  I feel pretty damn relaxed.

I link up with the kids and we go grab the towel from the laundry service.  Imagine that, no blue stains.  Well, at least barely noticeable blue stains.

So soft.

So refreshing. 

We head to a nice dinner across the street from our hotel.  American food.  Certainly a nice break from what we have been eating.  During dinner, mom walks back to our hotel lobby to call home.  Ironically, while our hotel will charge you $8 for a stained towel, they will let you call back to the United States for free.  Mom calls PaPa and wishes him a happy 86^th birthday.  She says he and MaMa still can’t believe we are on this trip and are more amazed that we extended it.  A few desserts.  Coffee.  The check.

As we head through the lobby, I stop off and turn in the towel at the front desk.  The kids continue up to their room and let me handle it.  The girl is there.  Towel issue settled.

In my room, I sit out on the balcony and overlook the boardwalk by the beach.  It’s quiet.  The town is quiet.  The sky is quiet.  The night is quiet.  This is exactly what I needed.  Completely relaxing.

Oh wait, I just remembered, I still have this EXCRUCIATING sunburn.

Not exactly relaxingly yours,

Tang

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THE FRENCHMAN’S CODPIECE AND AN EXTRA GLAND

Day 28, April 18th

OOUUCCHH!!!!!!!

All of last night was spent peeling the sheets off of my aloe vera sticky sunburned skin and trying to find a position in bed that wasn't completely excruciating. Thankfully, I switched to my own room last night and was able to deal with the pain without keeping the kids awake.  Huge mistake yesterday not putting on ANY sunscreen.  That philosophy of getting a good first sunburn to start off a tan is a load of crap.  Even a cold shower hurts.  I feel sick.  I want to throw up.  My head is pounding.  I want to pass out.  This sucks.

Part of the armada.

Today is suppose to be a relaxing and enjoyable day.  It isn't likely with this sunburn, but at least most of it will be spent in the water and I will have on a rash shirt and a hat.  Today we are going on a snorkeling tour.

We are up early and down to the beach.  We get a free breakfast with the snorkeling tour and a free breakfast means, small and not very good.  This breakfast is just French bread and coffee.  I hope this isn't an omen of things to come.

Our tour only has 8 people.  Two couples.  One single guy.  Me and the kids.  Then there is the "captain" and "1st mate."  They are basically kids that know how to drive the boat and cook the food when we get to the island.

We leave the beach at 8:30 and as we head to the first snorkeling spot, I notice five other boats heading in the same direction.  It is one giant snorkeling armada.  Obviously, there will be no isolated moments and unique experiences on this tour. 

Covered like a 3-year-old.

We get to the first snorkeling spot and we all start getting ready to hop in the water.  Among the two couples, one is a Frenchman in board shorts and his Khmer "girlfriend."  Nothing odd or uncomfortable about that.  We have seen that many times.  BUT, all of a sudden she wraps him up in a towel and he does some Houdini magic trick like a girl taking off her bra without taking off her shirt and emerges from the towel in a tight nut-hugger!!  I mean, this is a codpiece the size that would make a superhero blush.  Now she's lathering the sunscreen on him.  When I say she is thorough, I mean THOROUGH.  She's putting sunblock in places the sun will never get to without some strategically placed mirrors and a well executed downward dog.  This is so intimate, I feel like I need a soft cuddle now.

The 1st mate brings out a box of snorkels and masks, no fins.  This is already suspect.  I grab one and give it a go.  I am stoked that I get to finally use my underwater camera.  Dad and I hop in the water.  He takes off.  I'm trying to put everything on.  I think I have it.  I'm off.  This feels good.  The water is cold.  Just floating around.  Slowly swi…crap.  My mask is leaking.  I can't stop it or seal it.  I need a new one.  By the time I look back at the boat and head back in that direction, everyone else is already in the boat and done snorkeling.  Huh?  Even dad is done.  He isn't enjoying it.  I try a few other masks.  They don't work.  I toss my camera in the boat, climb back in and try to find a mask that works.  Even the captain is getting nervous because he can tell I am frustrated.  I think I finally have a good mask, strap it on, hop in the water and start snork…..it breaks.  Worthless.  I throw it back in the boat.  I am pissed.  Everyone can tell.  Especially our guides.

Trying out ANOTHER mask.

I climb back in the boat and head back to where the kids are and where our seats ar….SMACK!!!  A shooting pain fills my head and my eyes start to water.  I look up and there is a cross board that I didn't duck under enough.  Everyone in the boat goes silent.  A few quietly ask if I am OK.  I am more angry about the snorkeling than I am the cut on my head.  I turn to dad and ask if I am bleeding.  He says not really, and then the blood begins to pool on my head.  So I sit there with a towel pressed to my bleeding, sunburned head.

Everyone is done snorkeling and we all just sit silently in the boat.  We look around at the other five boats in the armada.  They are all empty because everyone is in the water having a great time.  We picked the wrong tour.

Finally, we raise anchor and head to the second snorkeling spot. 

This isn't a snorkeling spot.  It's an island.  They just slide up on shore and park the boat for most of the tour.  We have the option to snorkel, lay on the beach or explore the island.  Snorkeling here really isn't an option since the water is waist deep.  Typical tour.

We hang out at the main beach for a bit and eat lunch.  After we explore the island for about an hour, we load up and head to the third snorkeling spot.

The island.

Again, all five boats head out in the same direction, at the same time and park at the same spot. Again, everyone on the other tours jump in the water.  Our boat…..parked right on top of jellyfish. Not, just one or two. We see more than fifteen jellyfish. Not small jellyfish. These are the size of basketballs or bigger. This is ridiculous. Everyone asks the tour guides to take us to another place. These kids aren't having it. Their job is to drive the boat and park it in specific places on a specific timeline and then return to the main beach.  They aren't into customer service.  They are too young.

For once, Patton is chill.  It is what it is.  I am even more pissed than before.  I really want to get in that water, but I have no desire to dodge jellyfish.  Mom has some nervous energy.  She feels for these kids cause she can tell there is about to be a mutiny.

Finally, everyone says screw it and we head back to the main beach early.

The chefs.

What a crappy tour this turned out to be.  Horrible breakfast.  Crappy snorkeling equipment.  A huge cut across my head.  Jellyfish infested water.  And now the Frenchman is sprawled out, laid back, legs spread and getting a tan with his bits and pieces outlined in his man-panties and looking right at me.  As crappy as this day was, I'm trying not to laugh cause mom is trying to discretely, but not so discretely, take pictures with the Frenchman's…umm…French bread and manties.  I need to get off of this boat.

When we got back to the hotel, the kids' room is being cleaned so they come up to my room to hang out.  We haven't been in there long and there is a knock at the door.  I open it to find the hotel manager, the head of house keeping and security all standing there holding a towel.  The manager tells me that there are light blue stains on the towel, the towel was found in my room, therefore I must be responsible for the stains and will be charged $8.  Huh?  Are you serious?  Yes, he is very serious.  They all are.  We are informed that we will be charged for ALL stains.

Bleeding finally stops.

This feels like a scam.  I am irritated, mom is livid and dad is chill.  Mom heads out of the room to talk to the manager and gives him the what for.  Unfortunately, to no avail.  He informs us that we can wash it ourselves or pay to have it washed.  Either way, we are responsible.  Mom inquires about how they know I caused the stains.  The manager says because the cleaning lady found my damp towel laid out across the couch and that is where the blue stain came from. The couch is brown and orange.  This is a very poorly executed scam. 

Once they all leave, I go through the sheets and towels and find a few small stains.  Stains that I don't care about, but stains they will likely charge me for.  So, I go down to the front desk to speak to the manager and show him the stains so we won't be charged for them.  He won't even look at me.  He sends one of the girls up to look at the stains.  On the way up, I explain the situation to her cause she wasn't there for the initial confrontation.  She informs me that she is Cambodian but from America and understands my frustration.

Close up of the manties. 

Wide shot.

By the time we get up to my room, the head of house keeping and security are waiting for us.  These stains apparently need a thorough going over.  They all discuss and argue for a while.  I again explain the situation about the towel and the stains to the girl and I can tell she is embarrassed.  I said, "We are spending $240 at your hotel and you are charging us $8 for a blue stain on a white towel that came from an orange and brown couch."  She said, "I know."  I told her that if people are treated this way they will tell others and this hotel will end up losing thousands of dollars just to get $8 back.  She said, "I know."  I asked her if the owners of the hotel cared.  She said, "Nope."  The owners have apparently scared all of the employees and forced them to handle the situations this way.  Of course, the owners are out of the country during all of this.   

She explains the reason for the strict rules on stains is because, with the hotel only being a couple of months old, they have already had thousands of problems with westerners bringing their Khmer "girlfriends" to the rooms and getting stains everywhere.  WAIT A MINUTE!!  Was I just politely accused of having untidy dalliances with local hookers??  The girl just shrugs her shoulders.  And I don't have an anatomy degree or any type of research to back this up, but unless Khmer girls have an extra gland that produces a blue secretion, I would assume the stain a hooker and her drunk John can produce would be the same stain that a married couple from the west would produce.  This is beyond stupid.

The girl is really cool and said to bring the cleaned towel to her and not to worry about any of the stains.  Good enough for me.  I am in too much pain to care any longer.

Another aloe vera bath and this day is done.

Gonna have a scarly yours,

NOT A John

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A LEADER OF MEN

Day 27, April 17^th

We aren’t moving too fast this morning.  No need to.  I have already laid out the plans for the day and there is no need to rush.  Breakfast.  Beach.  Dinner.  Done.  That’s right, I said beach.

Ahhhh, yessss.  The Beach.  After the past couple of weeks in the cities, I am more than ready for the white sands and blue waters of the coast.

A pretty good view.

I know, the name Cambodia doesn’t exactly elicit thoughts of umbrella-dotted beaches and lazy days listening to the waves crawl up the sand and roll back out to sea.  Believe me, you are missing out.  Sihanoukville is just that, a beach town.  This is one of the more picturesque beaches I have seen.

Just above the row of water-front umbrellas lies restaurant after restaurant ready to bring you anything you desire from a Tiger beer to a mango smoothie to fresh grilled seafood.  I’m gonna dig this.

We make it down to one of the beach side restaurants for a quick breakfast.  It’s the usual.  I gotta say, frying eggs is not their thing here.  It always comes drenched in grease.  Literally.  When we first arrived in Southeast Asia the kids were ordering like it was an I-HOP and giving specifics about how the eggs should be prepared.  Over easy.  A little runny.  Not too hard.  Confusion.

They know two things when it comes to eggs on a western breakfast here.  Fried or scrambled.  And if it is fried, that basically means the eggs are going skinny dipping in a vat of grease and not drying off when they get out.  They will literally slide across your plate there is so much grease.  One full month starting off each day with a plate of grease and a side of egg has an effect.  It wreaks havoc on your digestive system.  I’ll leave it at that.

Grease ingested.  Coffee consumed.  Beach time.

We find a couple of umbrellas with lounges and set up camp.  With the Khmer New Year just ending, this place is quiet.  Hardly anyone out here.  Perfect.

An even better one.

I can’t say this enough, you hear Cambodia and you think jungle, war, Black Panther Beer, Angelina Jolie’s son.  You think anything BUT beach.

However, the sun is out.  The blue sky is gently dotted with a few clouds.  The sand is white.  The breeze is soft.  And the water from the Gulf of Thailand is cool.  This is what you want when you dream of that beach getaway.

I easily settle into relaxing.

Mom, easily settles in to relaxing.

Dad, he’s a good sport and gives it a try.

There is no escaping them.

We order up some fresh fruit smoothies and lay back and enjoy.  I toss on my ipod, scroll to Jack Johnson and close my eyes to relax.  This is absolute heave…EXCUSE ME MISSA, You buy bracelet from me?  Foot massage?  Very hairy chest missa, I fix for you?  Shrimp?  Fresh fruit?  Remember me for later, OK?  You buy from me later, OK?  We friends now!

This SUCKS!!

The beach hawkers are everywhere and relentless.  Selling everything.  But they don’t make the hard sell this early in the day.  It’s more of an introduction, a meet and greet, if you will.  The best thing to do this early is to just say ‘no’ unless you see something you want to buy right then. 

Mom commits the cardinal sin in interacting with hawkers while lounging.  She doesn’t say “no.”  She says “maybe later.”  “Maybe later” is basically a contract to them.  And make no mistake about it, they will be back to collect.  A couple of the hawkers, kids mostly, even throw out the pinky swear.  They know the routine and they are very good at it.

Not too long after the hawkers leave, Patton gets restless.  He often does when we are relaxing and we knew this would happen.  He heads off and walks up and down the beach.  Very little relaxing for him.

A young girl giving mom the hard sell.

The rest of the morning and early after noon is spent lounging, dipping in the ocean, flipping over and back over, an occasional massage, a few purchases from the hawkers, several mango smoothies and MANY refusals to have my chest hair threaded.  I don’t know why, but they wouldn’t let that one go.  Believe me, I’m no Magnum P.I., but they kept wanting to “fix” it.  Every time I said no, they would ask about my head.  Where did you leave your hair, missa?  I left it in my 20s.  Thanks for reminding me.  So much for relaxing.

As early afternoon approaches, the hawkers realize it is time for the hard sell.  The sun will be going down, people will be heading off to dinner and they need to close the deal now. 

About that time, Patton returns from his trek.  I would like to take this opportunity to say how much I admire Patton.  This guy is genuinely amazing.  The things he has accomplished in life constantly astound me.  The places he has taken our family to live.  Germany.  Saudi Arabia.  The places he has traveled solo to work.  Sudan.  Kuwait.  And all of the stuff he has done in recent years in Iraq and Afghanistan in helping to rebuild those countries.  He is always calm.  Collected.  Calculated.  He is truly a leader of men.  Always has everything under control. 

Except…

…when he is surrounded by several six-year-old beach hawkers shoving bracelets in his face and another lady giving him a “trial foot massage.”  He is squirming more than a tweener at a Justin Beiber concert.  This is funny.

Moving in on Patton.

All I can hear is …NO, I don’t want a massa.  Kevin!  NO, I don’t want any bracelets.  Kevin!!  Quit touching my feet!  NO, I don’t want any bracelets!  Kevin!!  Make them go away!!  NO, I don’t want any.  KEVIN!!  Pay them a dollar to leave me alone!!

I could help him out, I guess.  But, this is an extremely refreshing mango smoothie and I certainly don’t want to get in the way of him experiencing the local culture.  He can take care of himself.

A leader of men indeed. 

Once the hawkers finally split, the kids load up their stuff and head back to the hotel room.  I choose to take in a bit more sun while I can.  Bad call on my part.  A combination of bad decision-making and laziness have led to the worst sunburn I have ever had.  I have been out here for about 5-6 hours…and no sunscreen.  My initial thinking was I needed to start with a decent burn.  Once I realized I was too burned, I was too lazy to put on sunscreen or to get up and leave.  I think I am going to pay dearly for this.

Finally, I am ready to head back to the room and get ready for dinner.  But, I spot a hair band I want from one of the hawkers.  No, it isn’t for me.  The girl doesn’t have the color I want, so she sits there and makes a new one for me.

While she is making it a bunch of other kids come to chat and try to sell stuff to me.

The trolley.

One young girl in particular is upset.  Apparently, she feels that she and I are “friends” from this morning and I should be buying from her.  But I didn’t make “friends” this morning.  Great.  Now the tears are coming.  I try to chat with her and be playful.  She says I promised to buy.  I say I didn’t promise.  And then the switch flips and she hits me with it.  “I don’t want your f____n promises.  I want your money.”

WHAT?!?!

I don’t even have a response to that.  Now I’m dealing with a 6-year-old Andrew Dice Clay?  She is pissed!  That’s my cue.  I’m just gonna get the hair band and head back to the hotel.  Of course, she doesn’t let me leave without one last parting shot.  She tells me, “go back to your f____n country.”

They certainly master English at a really young age here.

My sunburn is killing me, but it is time to head out to dinner.  I heard about a restaurant, Chez Claude, that is a quick drive beyond the beach area that has great food and a trolley ride to the front door.  Sounds interesting.

That is a painful sunburn.

When we get there, we quickly understand why the trolley ride is one of the main attractions.  The trolley is raised up and down the steep incline by a farm tractor.

We must be the first ones there cause no one is manning the trolley.  The place doesn’t even look open.  Eventually, an old man walks out and after a few gestures and pointing we load up in the trolley and the tractor groans to life.  Surprisingly, a smooth ride.

The food is pretty good.  The sunset is beautiful.  But my sunburn is insufferable.  Time to head back to the hotel, bathe in aloe vera and spend the rest of the night regretting not putting on sunscreen.

Sunny side uply yours,

Higgins

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ALL IN THE FAMILY

Day 26, April 16^th

Today should be a relatively easy day.  Another travel day.  From the city to the beach.  Phnom Penh to Sihanoukeville.  I could use some beach time.  Phnom Penh has been pretty intense.  Aside from the two dark, heavy places we went to yesterday, the poverty here in Phnom Penh is bad.  Seems to be everywhere.

Working young.

Apparently for some people and families, poverty is a career.  Our Canadian hotel manager pointed out a group of kids that hoof it up and down the main street in front of the restaurants hawking bracelets, books, clothes and any other kind of souvenir they can get their hands on.  All of the kids are related.  Most of them are brothers and sisters.  Their mother continues to have kids and as soon as the kid can walk and hold souvenirs, the mother sends the child out to sell on the streets.  Two-years-old and they are already working.

The mother hangs out on the street, off to the side to monitor the kids.  Occasionally, the kids will break their sad façade and start to smile and play around like normal kids.  The mom quickly corrects them and puts them back to work.  It’s no way for a kid to grow up.

The city itself was pretty empty as a result of the Khmer New Year.  We expected it to be packed, but turns out it is the exact opposite.  Apparently, everyone in the cities go out to the country where they are from or take a big family vacation somewhere to celebrate the New Year.  Our Canadian friend has told us to expect the beach to be crowded for the first day or two we are in Sihanoukeville.  At this point, I don’t care.  I just want to be near the water.

This morning is status quo for the three amigos.  Mom and dad are ready to roll, early.  I am not.  Patton is already pacing.  So much pacing that it is making the Phnom Penh heat even hotter.  But, it is effective.  Cause when Patton starts pacing, Pyle starts packing.  I know, I shouldn’t wait to the last minute, but it is what it is. 

Phnom Penh bus station.

A quick tuk-tuk ride to the bus station, a short wait and we are on the bus and ready to hit the road.  Straight shot to the beach.  Should be easy and hopefully uneventful.

This kid sits in the seat next me.  I guess he isn’t that much of a kid considering he is married and has a kid of his own.  He shows me his little girl.  She’s a cutie and grabs my finger and shakes it.  I guess that makes us all family now.  And as family, I am now her dad’s pillow to sleep on for ride down to Sihanoukeville.  Greeeat.

Not too long into the drive he starts doing the head-bob/shoulder lean routine.  His head falls forwards, bounces up, lays to the side on my shoulder, slumber.  The bus hits a bump.  He barely wakes up.  Looks around.  Then…his head falls forwards, bounces up, lays to the side on my shoulder, slumber.  Over and over and over.  Plus, despite being smaller than I am, he is doing the wide leg spread, taking up way too much room.  At least this bus ride is only four to five hours.

View from the hotel.

Once we get to Sihanoukville, we are let out on the side of the road.  Seems odd, but there are taxis and tuk-tuks waiting for us.  I guess it is pretty common.  We grab a tuk-tuk and head down to the beach area.  I post the kids up at a restaurant and after a quick lunch I head out to find a place to stay.

Technically, the Khmer New Year is over.  But, not really.  Today is Saturday, tomorrow everyone heads back to the city.  As a result the prices for hotels are double for tonight and drop back to the normal rate tomorrow.  I hit up a couple places and they are all full for tonight.  I find one hotel that is the nicest on the beach.  Nicer than any of the others we have stayed at on this trip.  It is only a month or two old.  Still not even completed.  But the rooms are nice and the hotel is close to the water.  Plus, it is the only one with rooms still available.  Sold.

I grab the kids and we check in.

Happy New Year!!

Mom is tired tonight and doesn’t feel like heading out for dinner.  Plus, she is still fully stocked on her Weight Watchers snacks.  Just about every time she pulls one of those snacks out, she flaunts it in front of my face with an I-told-you-so look of satisfaction.

Dad and I heard the seafood on the beach is phenomenal.  We head out to verify for ourselves.  As we stroll up and down the beach, every 50 feet or so we are hit up by another restaurant/bar asking if we want to eat there.  The food does look good and pretty fresh, but it all looks the same.  We settle on a place, head to a table in the sand by the water, I kick my flip-flops off and we enjoy some freshly grilled Cambodian bar-b-cued seafood as the sun sets.

This place has a great vibe.  I’m gonna dig chilling here for a few days.

Shoulder pillowly yours,

The Family Man

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