Pete arrived in Singapore at 1am on Monday morning. We slept for a
few hours and turned right back around to fly to Bangkok for an obligatory tour
down Kho San Road. After trying various street food (scorpion, pad thai, and
spring rolls) and shopping for souvenirs, we got horribly lost on the way to
the hostel in the middle of the night and ended up in a large, complex
monastery. Pete was bit by a dog and we definitely scared some young monks who
were out playing with remote control cars, but we eventually managed to find
our way around the monastery and back to our room.
Pete loooooves grilled scorpion
The next morning we woke up bright and early (5am) to catch the
train to the Cambodian border. Riding the third class train from Bangkok to
Aranya Prathet, taking a tuk-tuk to the border, crossing into Poipet, and
hiring a taxi to Siem Reap is a common backpacker journey. We were both excited
to start this epic adventure, despite it being pitch black at that hour. We
hopped out of the taxi and headed to the train station ticket window. I reached
for my purse to pay for our tickets and oh crap - my wallet
was gone. I immediately knew what happened: I took it out to pay for the taxi
ride, and since I knew I was going to get change, I didn't put it back in my
purse right away. Instead, I left the wallet sitting on my lap, where it must
had slid off around a turn. In the darkness I didn't notice it was gone. The
taxi driver gave the change to Pete, who stuffed it in his pocket, so I never
needed my wallet to put the change away. We spent several frantic minutes
rushing throughout the taxi queue, poking our heads in each vehicle, looking for
our driver. But I knew it was too late. He was long gone to who knows where.
Now we were stranded at the train station with no money and no time. If we
somehow went looking for the driver, we would surely miss the train. If we
didn't, there was no hope for my wallet. I had lost cash (about 1000 baht), my
credit card, my debit card, my NUS student ID, and my health insurance card.
Oddly, I was most distraught about the lost of my Singaporean Student ID. It
was the one truly irreplaceable item, and a prized souvenir from the summer.
But in the spirit of adventure, I decided there was no use wasting
our day on some wild goose chase for a man we may not even recognize if we saw
him. Thankfully there was an ATM in the train station. Pete got out cash, we
bought our train tickets, I called my sister to have her cancel my cards, and
we boarded the last car. It was a ramshackle old thing with wooden walls and
broken benches. Luckily most of the windows were also broken, so they stayed
open and let in a wonderful breeze.
Getting ready to board the train
When the train finally rumbled slowly out of the station, the sun
was just peeking over the horizon. We chugged through the outskirts of Bangkok,
past flimsy houses built inches from the tracks and toxic looking rivers
clogged with garbage and debris. The train windows gave snapshots into the
lives of those who live along the tracks: shirtless men grilling satay, women
loading down motos with palm fronds and bamboo stalks, and children running
amok through the crowded neighborhoods.
Cruising through Bangkok
Finally the shacks and noisy roads gave way to immensely green
rice paddies and farmhouses and palm forests. The train picked up speed (yikes)
and clanged along the endless track. I spent a good portion of the seven hour
journey exploring the train cars and leaning out the windows. Stepping from car
to car was creepy and exhilarating. I felt like an outlaw from the wild west.
The hinges were not enclosed; nothing was stopping you from climbing onto the
roof or jumping out of the train at any point. I stood on the lowest step
between two cars and leaned my whole body out of the train, letting the tall
grasses brush against my legs as we sped east.
Looking out of the train
Rice farmers at work
We reached Aranya Prathet just after 1pm and took a tuk-tuk to the
popular border crossing. Immigration was a breeze with a US$20 Cambodian visa
and a few extra bucks for the border guards. We walked through a gauntlet of
hawkers and potential pickpockets pushing up against us and following us down
the sidewalk, and finally stepped into the bright sun and red dirt roads of
Cambodia.
Approaching the Kingdom of Cambodia
To be continued...
