Day on the bus. And the other bus.

Bokor Mountain, Cambodia

Today was always going to be a non-event – very much a means to an end rather than any kind of end in itself. What’s to say about the bus trip that took us from Kampot to Phnom Penh, and the onward trip from Phnom Penh to Kratie? Not a lot. What there is I’ll come to.

But first, a few more pics from our action-packed day yesterday. Like the one above, where a chap is shoveling something into a bag, ready to be hoisted up by his colleague – slightly out of shot to the right – who is wisely sheltering under a makeshift brolly while he operates the hoist. Which will take whatever it is up to, presumably, one or more others on one of the upper floors, who will then presumably do something with it. Which is all fine and dandy, until you see the big picture…

Bokor Mountain, Cambodia

I’d say they’ve got their work cut out.

This is all happening just down the road from the temple on top of Bokor Mountain. God knows what they’re building, but they don’t seem to be in any great rush.

You see this a lot hereabouts. Work going on, but on a scale that bears no resemblance to the need. The once-derelict, now being worked on, hotel I mentioned yesterday was just the same. There were, as I said, a couple of blokes up on the first floor, cleaning shutters. But that was it: a couple of blokes. And there were a lot of shutters. And the shutters were the tiniest, most peripheral part of what needed doing, if the place was ever to be in a fit state to reopen.  At the current frenzied pace, it won’t be any time this century. Or this millenium, in the case of whatever it is they’re working on above.

It’s all rather baffling.

Oh, it also occured to me that I didn’t actually show a pic of the Big Buddha, or mention the other building we found on top of Bokor Mountain – a derelict Catholic church, left over from the days of the French occupation. Quite poignant. Still a crucifix (an incredibly camp crucifix, I couldn’t help noticing), along with touching and clearly heartfelt graffiti, left by believers. And, oddly, alongside a few abandoned tatty, dusty old fake flowers, a rather splendid vase, just sitting in a corner, for no obvious reason.

Old Catholic church, Bokor Mountain, Cambodia
Bokor Mountain, Cambodia

Anyway, that concludes yesterday. Not much to say about today, and Virle’s just asked me to finish up because she wants to get some zees – today was surprisingly tough, though we did almost nothing but sit on our bums all day. 

The first bus was just a bus, to Phnom Penh, where we got some snacks in, changed a hundred at the bank, and had a noodle soup lunch. But then we got on the minibus to Kratie, and soon found ourselves on the road to hell. Made the other day’s dirt track adventures look positively luxurious. The road was being rebuilt, for mile after mile after mile, with our bus participating in Death Race 2024 all the way, along with HGVs, cars, vans, tuk tuks, scooters laden with kids, all hurtling along a road that barely was a road for long sections, frequently slowing to a crawl to cross trenches a foot deep, or go over metre high hillocks of mud. Absolute bleedin’ nightmare – and it went on for hours. The driver must have nerves of steel – and how the vehicles survive, I cannot imagine. 

Anyway, that’s it for now. We’ve to bed – not least because the homestay man – ‘Suk’ – tells us the cockerels start at 4.30, and the market next door about an hour later. God help us.

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