M-whY

Instead, I decided to try and make the trip on my own. As usual, getting places in Thailand couldn't be easier. A taxi took me to the Mochit bus station. Most of the signs were written in Thai, but the information counter directed me to the booth I wanted. For less than 200 baht, I had a ticket to Aranya Prathet, the town on the Thai-Cambodian border. At 8:30, I boarded a comfortable, air conditioned coach, which, to my surprise, didn't carry any backpackers. I knew plenty of travellers made the Bangkok-Siem Reap journey daily. Was I the only one who had decided to go by myself?

At some point, we stopped at a military checkpoint, where an armed guard came aboard and started checking ID's. I wasn't sure what this was all about, but four people were escorted off the bus, and we continued on without them. Other than that, it was a pretty routine ride, and I managed to sleep for most of the four hour duration.

We arrived at a bus station, where a horde of tuk tuks and motorcycle taxis awaited to take people to their final destinations.

"I want to go to the border," I told one of them.

"Okay," he said, and motioned for me to hop on.

"How much?"

"60 baht."

Fair enough, and a couple moments later, I was whizzing down the street on the back of a motorcycle taxi. So far, so good, I thought. This wasn't too hard.

I was dropped off a couple hundred meters from the border, where I'd have to walk the last bit to reach immigration. There had been no backpackers on my bus, but now, I was surrounded by them. I guessed that most were on Khao San Road tickets. There were so many of them I began to wonder if my fears were unfounded, and whether I should've just joined them. Well, I had come this far already on my own. Might as well make it an adventure and continue the rest of the way solo.

At the Thai-Burma and Thai-Laos borders, everything went smoothly. Fifteen minutes, tops, was all it took to get my Thai departure stamp. For some reason though, there seemed to be a massive hold up at this crossing. For an hour, I stood in a crowd, outside in the blistering heat, waiting to be let in to the immigration office. We were all sweating like marathon runners. Everyone must've lost two pounds of water by the time the doors opened. Gleefully, we all rushed in, only to find another line, and more waiting. Conditions were only slightly better indoors. The air conditioning didn't seem to work and the fans were only useful if you happened to be standing right in front of them. Well, at least we weren't in the sun anymore.

All told, it took two hours to exit Thailand. I hadn't bothered to obtain my Cambodian visa in advance, as I knew I could get them on the spot. 1000 baht (US$25) was demanded, and though officially a visa should cost US$20, it's pretty much common knowledge that none of the immigration officials honored that price. While I filled out my application, a 'helper' latched onto me.

"Do you need a bus, sir?"

"No."

"How are you getting to Siem Reap, sir?"

"I'm hiring a car."

"A car is expensive."

"That's fine."

He continued asking many questions, and at some point, I just began ignoring him. But he had made up his mind to 'help' me, and followed me all the way into Poipet, the city on the Cambodian side of the border.

Poipet seemed nothing more than a collection of swanky casinos. They were impressive establishments, and at least from the exterior, rivaled the best Atlantic City had to offer. (I've never been to Vegas so I can't make that comparison.) My leech continued to follow me, despite my best efforts to shake him. Finally, I decided to see if he could really assist me.

"Find me a pickup truck," I told him.

"Here, here," he said, and led me to a tuk tuk. We drove about a kilometer down the road, where there was indeed a pickup truck waiting for passengers. "1000 baht to Siem Reap," he told me.

"No, too expensive." I tried to bargain directly with the driver, although that proved nearly impossible given his inability to speak english.

"Okay, okay, 750 baht."

"No. Still too expensive." I was being stubborn, but with rip offs abound in transport, I had made up my mind to get the best deal I could. Negotiations got a little testy, and at one point, I turned and just started walking away.

"How much do you want to pay," he asked as he chased after me.

"200 baht."

He thought for a moment. "250 baht." I had no idea if this was a good price or not, but it was a figure that I'd be willing to pay. I threw my large pack in the bed of the truck, and climbed into the back seat of the cab. They tried to get me to pay the driver right away, and I countered by insisting in payment only after I had reached Siem Reap. By withholding money until they got me to where I wanted to go, I could ensure that I wouldn't be dropped off at some random town in the middle of nowhere.

In Cambodia, pickups leave only when full, which meant two passengers in front with the driver, and four in back. We would need one more passenger in the back before we set off. Already a tight fit, I wasn't sure if I could handle another body being squeezed in.

"I pay 500 baht," I told the driver, writing the figure on my palm. "And we leave now?"

I had to repeat myself a few times, but he finally got the drift and started the engine.

When we were little kids, our parents always taught us never to get in a car with strangers. Well, here I was, in a foreign country, sitting in an old Nissan pickup, with four other Khmer (Cambodian) passengers and a driver who only knew maybe a dozen words of english, and I wasn't the least bit worried about my safety. There was only one road to drive on, and as long as we were going away from the sunset, I knew we were going in the right direction.

The road was paved, but riddled with potholes so large, theys were more like 'cauldron-holes'. Traffic was supposed to stay on the right side, though at some points, road conditions became so bad that it was pretty much drive wherever you like. Sitting in the back, I felt extremely cramped, with insufficient leg room, but about half an hour into the ride, the two people sitting in the front were dropped off, and I had my seat upgraded. This isn't that bad, I reasoned. I can handle this.

Another half hour, and we arrived at a fairly large town. Looking at the map of Cambodia, I was pretty sure it was Sisophon, as it's the only town between Poipet and Siem Reap. We pulled into a dirt lot which served as a bus station. My driver got out and started talking to the driver of another pickup. He returned before long, and indicated that I needed to change cars. I didn't really have much choice, so I got out and moved my bags over.

This truck was seriously full. In addition to the passengers in the cab, it also carried a bunch of people in the bed. I watched as they tied my stuff down on the roof. I had my seat downgraded, back to the back row, where again, I'd have to sit in an uncomfortable position. The driver disappeared off to some place, and knowing I'd have few, if any, opportunities to stretch my legs for the next couple of hours, I stood outside. After about fifteen minutes, he returned. I took my place, and we were off.

From Sisophon to Siem Reap was only 100kms. 70kms of it was on a dirt road that had potholes covering every single square foot. I was probably no more cramped in this truck than in the other. For some reason though, it felt a lot worse. It was so bad, I can say without a question that I was in the most unpleasant position I've ever been in. I mean, I've been on bus rides and sat for long periods before, but at least I knew I could stand up and stretch if I really wanted. Here, it wasn't even an option. I was sitting in a hunched over position, and when we rolled over a bump every two seconds, I hit the top of my head on the roof. For the first time in my life, I wished I was only 4'11" instead of 5'11".

I've never known myself to be claustrophic before, but on this particular occasion, I began to panic. I glanced at the speedometer. We were barely going 20km/h. There was no way I'd be able to put up with this for several hours.

I tapped the driver on the shoulder. "Stop. Can you stop?" and accompanied my request with the proper hand motions. He pulled over and got out of the truck. I scrambled out after him.

"The roof is too low," I said, touching the top of my head. "Can I sit in the back?" and pointed in the bed where 15 Khmers sat, probably wondering what this strange man was saying.

When he comprehended what I was trying to tell him, he broke into laughter. He translated for the rest of the locals, everyone else started laughing. The bed was full, so a young boy who was sitting on the roof was moved into the cab, and I took his place. I could tell everyone was amused, the way they kept looking at me and smiling.

Sitting outside was better than sitting inside, though it was still a rough ride. The hard roof took a toll on my buttcheeks. I had to hang on to something to keep from being thrown off the truck. I was sitting facing backwards, and could feel the bugs flying into the back of my head. This is no longer fun, I told myself. But at least it's not raining.

Well into the dark, I continued in this position. At random villages along the way, we stopped to drop off passengers. The front seat opened up at one point, and I was again moved to the best seat in the house. Finally, about 30km out of Siem Reap, we hit tarmac, and from there, it was smooth sailing into town.

"Guesthouse?" the driver asked me.

"Yeah."

He handed me a small business card with the name of a guesthouse on it. "Okay?"

"Okay. Take me there."

I was dropped off and took a quick look at the rooms. They looked decent enough.

"How much is it?" I asked the owner.

"$5 per night."

I accepted, paid the truck driver, and went upstairs to my room to unpack and clean up. It was 10:30pm. The epic journey had taken a grand total of 14 hours. If I ever need to make this trip again, I'm taking a plane.

Thanks to everyone for their support and comments! Knowing people are reading keeps me motivated to continue the updates!