On Sunday we got the minibus from Kampot to Sihanoukville, which is a bit like the Magaluf of Cambodia. Not really appealing to us, we only went there in order to get our Visa for Vietnam as it's the easiest, cheapest and quickest place to obtain it. Even if you apply in Phnom Penh they send your passport on down to Sihanoukvile, apparently.
The bars on the beach are packed so closely together you can normally hear 3 different sound systems at the same time, competing for your attention. There isn't much to see of the beach for all the furniture, beggars, sellers, food stalls and the like.
We did, however, rent ourselves a scooter and headed off to Otres beach a few km away to see the sunset. I'm including the picture below if only to remind myself I've never had so many people take such a close interest in my toenails! "Cut your nails, sir?"
Ray, the son of the family running our guesthouse spoke great English for a nine year-old, and so was the person to come to for visa advice, taxi booking and scooter rental - all for a small commission, of course. However, when it came to finding him the following morning for booking the taxi to the border, we we both pleased and disappointed to find our 'fixer' was in school!
Getting the visa itself was a doddle. We just turned up with our passports, filled in the form, handed over the money, then five minutes later we were out of there! In the short time we were there we met Al, a builder/scuba diving instructor from Philadelphia. He was heading in our direction that morning, so we agreed to share the taxi costs.
After passing back through Kampot and Kep, the road got progressively worse as we approached the border. As we crossed the border we were followed through by the troupe of moto drivers, despite us politely refusing their services. Little did we know they would be our only option on the other side!
In the few kilometres they took us from the border to Ha Tien, we (well, Hazel) had repeated offers and suggestions for us to take somebody's cousin's friend's brother's fishing boat to take us from the port at Ha Tien over to Phu Quoc - our destination.
Although it would have made for a shorter journey, we agreed we'd 'stay on target' and get the bus from Ha Tien down to Rach Gia, which is the better known route to Phu Quoc via the Hydrofoil.
Two and a half hours' bus ride later, and we pulled up at the bus station in Rach Gia, only to be mobbed (again) by moto drivers. One of the first things that struck us about Vietnam was that many of the street cafes seemed to have furniture like that in the local primary school - ie if you are 4' 2" and weigh 6 stone then you'll be pretty comfy! I'm sure many a person has come a cropper on these miniature chairs!
After we'd sorted ourselves out with a hotel for the night, we searched out somewhere for some scran, and discovered this great place to get Buffalo Soup. Here's us (with Al) conversing with the owner, who regaled us with wondrous stories of his love affairs with western women.
After a few thirst quenching beers, we were ready for a good night's kip... Or so we thought. More on that in the next instalment.
Namaste!
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