Thailand to Cambodia

We'd booked ourselves onto a bus from Bangkok to Aranya Prathet, where you can cross the border into Cambodia (country number three!)

We said goodbye to our guesthouse after filling up on fried eggs, toast and coffee to fortify us for the trip, and hailed a cab to the Ekamai bus station. Once there, after not too long a wait, we were ushered over to what was little more than a people carrier and squeezed in alongside about 10 other people and their baggage. 

Once we'd fought our way through the Bangkok traffic and out of the city, things really got interesting. We seemed to have found ourselves in the care of a man who wasn't just willfully reckless in his driving, but appeared to have a full-on death wish. For all of us! 'White knuckle' just doesn't go far enough; he sped, weaved, braked, honked, zoomed, dodged, screeched and tore along the roads for two hours like a true maniac. 

In many Southeast Asian countries, it's common to see spirit houses outside of homes and business and alongside roads. Apparently these are to house mischievous spirits that, if they didn't have anywhere to go, would be out causing chaos - like making people crash their cars or fall off of their bikes. Funny, I would've thought that drivers having a little knowledge of road safety, a modicum of patience and some general regard for the sanctity of human life would have its own protective effects.

The spirit houses protecting us from calamity. PHEW!

The border crossing was one of those experiences that the Lonely Planet seemed to spin up into a stressful obstacle to be endured and powered through with one's head down. The book basically tells you to go straight to Cambodian immigration, not to speak to anyone as they're all scammers who work for local 'cartels' who'll harass you onto their buses and sting you for way more than a taxi driver would charge to get into town, and that you'll likely be charged extra exorbitant fees by officials for your Cambodian visa. Following our harrowing roadtrip to Aranya Prathet, I was feeling a little on-edge and the guidebook's warnings weren't helping any.

Luckily, Dave kept a very cool head and took the lead. Once we'd gotten through the Thai exit formalities, the first thing he did was to start talking to someone (!?) who ushered us over to a building where we were to purchase our visas, while I lagged behind generally panicking and cursing under my breath that it was all already going horribly wrong. We filled out our forms, only paid an extra 200TBH backhander on top of the official $20, and were then ushered on again by Dave's new best bud to the border crossing. By this point, paranoid me was convinced we'd been shafted and that whatever had been stuck into our passports resembling a Cambodian visa was actually some piece of expert forgery scrawled on the back of a napkin. 

Standing slightly stressed in the short queue of tourists waiting to clear Cambodian immigration, I overheard two English lads behind us who'd taken the guidebook's warnings to the extreme; they'd indeed completely bypassed the visa office and headed straight to the crossing - just as I'd probably have done if I hadn't had a calm, sensible Dave with me. 

Then it was our turn up to the counter, where they stamped our visas with a smile and digitally took our fingerprints. Then we were through! Into Cambodia! Without being arrested or laughed at or bankrupted! Sighs of relief from me. Sighs of mild irritation from Dave at my lack of faith. And yes, the the hapless guys behind us did have to go back to the office and buy their visas before trying again to enter the country!

So don't trust the Lonely Planet in this instance if it's whipping you up into a frenzy of apprehension about how tough the crossing will be; it's really not that bad.


Next step was to board the bus from Poipet (the Cambodian side of the border) to Siem Reap, where we'd be staying in order to spend the next few days taking in the ancient temples of Angkor Wat. New best bud had shadowed us through to the other side of immigration, and fair enough he did work for the 'cartel' on duty that day and did usher us onto their bus into town, but it only cost us $9 each and it was there and going in the right direction, and we were tired, and he was really nice, so hey, no harm done.

The bus journey took about an hour and a half and gave us a good opportunity to see a bit of our new destination speeding past the windows. The landscape was incredibly flat, with green fields stretching off as far as the eye could see. Alongside the road, water channels fed the crops and provided bathtime and recreation for the locals, with people swimming and even kids playing in rubber rings. Pale, saggy-necked cows and black bulls with huge horns plodded the water's edge, and white cranes frequently spread their huge wings to take flight over the scene. The roads were also dotted with more of SE Asia's ubiquitous roadside ‘shanty shops’ and the soon-to-be-very-familiar baguette carts. We shared the road with people cycling on rickety old bikes and whole families crammed onto scooters - dad up front, mum at the back, with at least three children of varying ages and usually a pet in between them. 

We had a brief pit-stop at a roadside cafe for a much-needed can of the local Anchor lager.

The roads got a little more nail-biting again as it began to rain and darkness fell (no streetlights!) but soon enough we arrived in Siem Reap and new best bud (let's call him by his real name - Lowk Barang) was ready for us in his other guise as rickshaw driver. So we got in - trying not to get too wet - and off we went to Garden Village, a guesthouse/hostel we'd found online, to find ourselves a room. The whole journey, from leaving Bangkok to getting to our accommodation in Cambodia, took about nine hours.

We got a large room with air conditioning and hot water for about £6.50 a night. They only had a twin available, so we pushed the beds together! The place also had a big rooftop bar and restaurant which served draught lager for 30p a glass and decent meals for about £1.50 a head. They also had a free pool table, free jukebox with great music and free WiFi. It was understandably full of backpackers! 

We planned to take it very easy the next day, taking a wander around Siem Reap to get our bearings, and then the following day we'd start exploring the temples of Angkor Wat. But until then it was time to kick back, drink some cheap beer, fill our bellies, listen to some good tunes, and get a good night's sleep.

Our first stop in Bangkok

After seven weeks in Indonesia it was time for us to move onto mainland South East Asia. From Gili Air, we used our magic piece of paper to get us back to Bali, via Lombok, and stayed in Padang Bai for a couple of nights (at Beach Inn 1, which was quieter and cheaper than Marco's) before catching a bus up to Denpasar for our flight to Bangkok.

The plan was to stay in BKK for 4/5 days to run some errands. We needed visas for Cambodia, Vietnam and Laos; more malaria medication; and various essentials we hadn't been able to get hold of on our tiny island. Even though leaving the Gilis was a little traumatic, we were actually looking forward to being back in a proper city for a few days... massively shallow and probably immoral, but all I wanted was to eat Maccy D's and go to the cinema!

Our flight, via Hong Kong, was a piece of cake and we landed in BKK in the very early hours. So it was straight into a taxi from the airport to our guesthouse, Baan Hualamphong. When we arrived, dropped off by our very cheerful female driver, we were told that the room we'd booked was full so we'd be put in an aircon room for no extra charge. Fine by us! Especially considering the weather, even at 2am, felt like being in a steam room.

We paid 520THB per night (about £10.50) and got a big room with two double beds (incredibly hard mattresses), A/C, fridge, private bathroom, towels and loo roll provided. Breakfast was included too and was good, provided you like toast and fried eggs (the only option). Also, we soon discovered that the location of our guesthouse was excellent - not too close to the crazy tourist part of town but really near the Hua Lamphong Metro station, so it was a perfect base for exploring the city.

And what a city it is. One thing I was beginning to learn on our travels was that preconceptions are pretty much useless. I've never been interested in visiting Thailand, least of all Bangkok, which I was under the impression was some sort of unbearably dirty, seedy slum. As far as I was concerned we'd get in, do the necessary jobs, and get out as fast as we could. What did I know?? It's a fabulous, vibrant, thriving, modern metropolis. I fell madly in love with this place and, mainly due to my enthusiasm, we ended up staying for 10 days.

It turned out, after much internet research (with WiFi pilfered from the cafe across the road from our room), that we didn't need to organise our three visas ahead of time and would be better off just getting them all at the respective borders. So we threw ourselves into our other missions, namely: shopping and eating.

One of our first stops was to the MBK mall (one of about, oh, a MILLION!) We founds Boots - an exciting reminder of home - and bought the rest of the malaria tablets we needed to get us through Asia. We also purchased our first pot of Tiger Balm, which we soon realised is an absolute essential; great relief from mosquito bites and various other ailments - although we're still to figure out how it can cure flatulence, as it claims on the label... just rub some under your nose perhaps?? MBK was also our first encounter with the glorious phenomenon of 'Asian tat' - shops and stalls full of coloured plastic, grinning cartoon characters, cutesy animals, and unironic bling. Plus on the sixth floor, they have a great foodhall where there's a huge variety of cuisines available for bargain prices. You buy vouchers and then swap them for a meal; the best we found was the vegetarian stall where you choose three delicious dishes for 50THB (about £1).

We ate very well in Bangkok. The area called Siam is full of hip young things (BKK is so much more fashionable than I would've expected too!) and we had some good food around here (between my bouts of drooling over the shops and market stalls full of clothes I couldn't afford to buy). 

We treated ourselves one night to the Hard Rock Café, gorging ourselves on meat and various deep fried accompaniments. We also went to Som Tam Nua for the eponymous green papaya salad, plus excellent chicken wings, fried fish and sticky rice.

We took the extremely cheap and fun river taxi down to the Khaosan Road area where we bought a knock-off copy of the Lonely Planet guide to Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos & Northern Thailand, and stopped off for a lunch of som tam, tom yum kung (a hot and sour prawn soup), chicken noodle soup and spring rolls. Most of what we ate in BKK was supremely spicy (after all that bland Indonesian food, everything we ordered in Thailand had to be swimming in chili) and when we told the waitress we wanted our dishes 'Thai spicy' not 'tourist spicy' she agreed, but kept coming back to our table during our meal to check we were ok!

Even though I came travelling with grand ideas of eating street food everywhere we went, the multitude of stalls lining the pavements were rarely all that appetising once we'd considering how long the edibles had been sat in the open or how much diesel fume had choked them. So we didn't really delve into that culinary adventure.

We did push our boundaries with some stuff that was kind of odd though: raw prawns and sun-dried beef (both really delicious) at a place called Heap with our friend Toby. This was also when we discovered that pork fried rice in Thai is pronounced 'cow pat moo', so we'll never go hungry as we'll never forget that! We also had dinner with our friend Josie, who introduced us to pomelo, a big citrus fruit that we had as a yummy salad.

Also, bubble tea, which comes in all kinds of flavours but is basically flavoured milk with chewy balls in it and an extra wide straw so you can suck them through. I had a chocolate one. It was awesome.

The Paragon Shopping Centre is the high-end mall where all the posh designer stores are: Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Mulberry, Chanel, H&M. Yep, you read that right. We were accidentally there for the grand opening of the first Bangkok H&M store and it was a frenzy! Hundreds of people queuing out of the door, mums taking photos of their kids in front of the signage. Hilarious. 

Our main reason for visiting Paragon was to go to the cinema though. We'd heard really good things about the Bangkok multiplexes, especially the big comfy seats and the glorious air conditioning. We saw Dredd on a massive digital screen with great sound, and ate our body weight in Häagen-Dazs. All for about £4.20 each. A great indulgence after a month on an Indonesian desert island in the middle of nowhere!

The weather was sweltering the whole time we were in the city so opportunities to escape inside to air conditioned comfort of shopping malls and cinemas were extremely welcome. It broke one night though, with a spectacular storm right over the top of our guesthouse, and woke us up with some of the loudest thunder and brightest lightning either of us had ever encountered. It lit the room up like it was midday and came through our eyelids to wake us up! It was still ridiculously hot and muggy the next morning though.

As well as shopping and eating, we did do some sightseeing. We had a lovely afternoon at the Bangkok Art & Culture Centre, looking round the galleries of brilliant Thai artworks and chatting to a young artist called Kan who was selling some of his drawings in the public space.

The Jim Thompson House was also really interesting. He was an American who settled in Thailand and set up a huge silk empire (before going missing in Malaysia) and you can look around his gorgeous 1950s Bangkok residence. It was a very interesting little tour and a really nice way to spend an hour or two, looking around the gardens and his collection of artifacts.

One evening we had a speedy walk through the Patpong area, constantly dodging the invitations to ping pong shows. We didn't feel the need to linger, as the 'sexpats' (dodgy old white men enjoying the company of beautiful young Thais) were quite noticeable enough without going looking for them.

We mostly got around the city using the BST (skytrain) and Metro systems. They were fast, easy and cheap... a bit like the girls in Patpong!!! Sorry. 

Ahem! The trains are pretty entertaining in themselves, with constant adverts showing on the overhead TVs and priceless people-watching opportunities. Sometimes there's more than just watching too... like with the friendly old guy who told me about his massage business, said I was very 'modern' looking and then nodded knowingly when I said I was from London, then gave me his card and kissed me on the cheek before disembarking.

All of this urban sprawl got a bit much in the end though, and Dave especially was getting antsy and keen to move on. So, knowing we'd be back to my 'new favourite city' in a couple of months, we booked ourselves onto a bus to Aranya Prathet at the Cambodian border and left for country number three.

Indonesian island hopping

Bali had been great, but it can be quite hectic and we were ready to leave for something a little slower-paced. So it was time to embark on our first bit of island hopping, something I'd read about, been advised about (how doable it is), and that I'd casually mentioned to people: "We'll be doing some island-hopping around Indonesia." But in my mind it had always been something of a far off fantasy, an unknown entity.

Then we were heading for the Padang Bai public ferry, our lives in our backpacks and our magic piece of paper from Pesona Bintang* Tours in hand. We went back to the office at the agreed time and the nice guy ushered us over to board the ferry, where we waved the 'ticket' at a couple of official looking guys who pointed 'onward'.

To get over to the Gilis from Bali in one day you have to be on the 9am ferry from Padang Bai so you can make it over to Lembar and then up to the north of Lombok in time to make the boats going over from Bangsal to the Gilis.

We'd gotten to the ferry quite early so managed to nab a couple of chairs upstairs on the open air deck. It began to fill up around us with a good few Westerners laden with their own backpacks and lots of locals too. A lot of people ended up sitting on the floor. While we were still in port, women prowled the decks hawking food and drinks like instant coffee, bananas (small and green but firm and sweet) and hot nasi goreng wrapped in brown wax paper. I hadn't wanted coffee, but after the 150^th emphatic call from the women I suddenly needed one and caved (advertising works!) I bought two coffees and a few of the little bananas; the coffee was ridiculously sweet (some local sachet with sugar included) and Dave had to finish mine before I slipped into a diabetic coma. Once the ferry was ready to depart, the saleswomen vacated for shore and we were off.

Padang Bai harbour

Sitting at our table, we got chatting to a couple of Indonesian guys about various stuff like the price and strength of local cigarettes, and other cultural differences. This was also the first time we noticed the odd Asian phenomenon of men surreptitiously taking photos of young, beautiful Western women on their digital cameras. Bit creepy. 

We also passed the time reading (me still ploughing through On The Road; a good book but not one I couldn't put down so it was taking me a while) and snapping photos.

Gunung Agung on Bali, gently smoking away

It took about three hours to get to Lembar and then we sat for an hour waiting for the ferry in front of us to unload before we could even dock.

Our Lonely Planet guidebook had warned of the 'gauntlet' you had to negotiate at the port, where hordes of guys hassle you, trying to take your baggage and get it into their vehicles so you'd travel with them, and that the best thing to do was put your head down and get out of there. So when we disembarked we completely ignored the large crowd of Indonesian men shouting and bustling and walked straight past them towards the car park where we hoped to find our onward shuttle bus to Bangsal. With it not being immediately apparent, we asked the Tourist office for assistance; the very helpful man put a phone call in to the Pesona Bintang representative and along came a guy with a big frown on his face saying angrily to Dave “I call you! I say Bintang ticket!” - we'd been so freaked out by the Lonely Planet that we'd walked straight past the person who was trying to help us. To be fair, he wasn't communicating any clear instructions and was rather lost in the scrum, but the warnings did seem a bit over-dramatic considering they almost caused us to miss our connection. Anyway, no harm done and we were directed to our little bus. The magic paper worked again and we begun our trip north to Bangsal.

The ride was great; there were about half a dozen of us, plus the driver and the guide, so there was plenty of room. I donned my headphones, turned up the music, and gazed out of the window at the passing scenery of this new island, our second stop on our year away. More Indonesian life to witness. 

We stopped briefly at the outskirts of Mataram so those who didn't have their tickets to the Gilis could buy them. After a couple of hours, we arrived in Bangsal and once again showed our magic paper to a guy who ushered us away from the hordes of youngsters (including the others on our bus) who were heading for the 'party island' of Gili Trawangan.

After a little while of waiting around without much of an idea of what was happening - things kept being said about having to wait for more people to fill the boat or that the water was too choppy - we got chatting to a European yoga instructor who was living on Gili Air with her dive master boyfriend. She told us that this charade was a frustratingly common occurrence but after a while we were directed to a small wooden outrigger with about a dozen other people. A short chug over the Lombok Strait to Gili Air and we'd made it! About eight hours of travel, and by initial impressions well worth it.

A man driving a pony and trap, costing us 50,000 rupiah for two people and luggage, took us on a 10 minute ride to Harmony Beach House, where we'd made a reservation with the owner Colin. There are two rooms at Harmony, up some steps on the first floor above their bar and restaurant, and they're basic: small and pretty open to the elements, with a double bed, mosquito net, a table lamp, a fan and a couple of little bits of furniture. The two toilets and showers were downstairs in an outhouse, 50% of which were out of order. We dumped our stuff and, as I was pretty hungry after our long journey from Bali, headed next door to Legend bar – a red, yellow and green decorated reggae joint that plays Bob Marley on loop – for some dinner and a couple of beers.

There was quite a large balcony area at Harmony, and as there was no one occupying the other room, we chilled out there for a couple of hours before turning in.

We'd heard from Justin and Ros in Ubud that Bintang* Beach Bungalows was a great place to stay on Gili Air, so the next morning, while I was battling with the shower at Harmony, Dave set out to find it and take a look at their offerings. Under an hour later he returned and asserted “Pack your bags, we're moving”. We settled up and checked out of Harmony, carried our belongings on a three or four minute walk to Bintang, and were shown a couple of different rooms by the friendly, helpful boss Andi. We settled on a cute airy little bungalow, with a high ceiling and white walls, its own veranda and outdoor bathroom, a fan, mozzy net, little table and dressing table. The price was 150,000 rupiah per night (about £10) including breakfast - the same price as Harmony had been. Thank goodness for the recommendation for this place, as it was such better value!

A little about the island itself. Gili Air is a tiny paradise! You can walk around it in about 90 minutes and there's no motorised transport so there's only bicycles and the pony and traps. It's the perfect picture postcard spot: white sand beaches, turquoise oceans, and spectacular sunsets behind distant Gunung Agung. The sea is beautiful; clean and crystal clear. At low tide there are pools in the sand flats where loads of little creatures live – crabs, anemones, starfish etc. At night the skies are full of stars as there's very little light pollution and you can see the Milky Way, Jupiter and Mars with just the naked eye. There are plenty of bars and restaurants – pretty quiet while we were there as we'd arrived at the end of high season – and there's an ATM and some shops for sundries.

This is the place we'd call home for the next month.

* In a few Asian countries there is no enforceable copyright law so if something becomes popular, like Bintang beer for instance, it's ok for other businesses to use the name. In some places it might mean you ask a taxi driver to take you to the Hilton and you're dropped at a tiny guesthouse instead of a huge plush hotel, and allover Indonesia various incarnations of 'Bintang' pop up.