To celebrate this over-easy event, I checked into the cheapest hotel of my trip. Something under $6.00.
It had a bathroom with a shower like item and cold water. It did not come with toilet paper, which made me happy. I had been carrying around a roll for about two month's to no purpose. The room had a fan. It had a very, very large and thin towel for a top sheet on the bed. It had a drape that covered a substantial part of a window that had a screen that covered it, in substantial part. I invested in mosquito coils with some of my under spend on the room.I was now in Khon Kaen, in the Northeast of Thailand, a region generically called Isan. The goal was to cut across Thailand briskly and enter Cambodia at a spot more or less convenient to Siem Reap and nearby Angor.
But I was in Khon Kaen for the afternoon and enjoyed it. It has a couple of pleasant museums, one of which comes stocked with many young enthusiastic guides. I got led around by a team that varied between two and three in number and could sort of read the English language signs to me, full stop. I enjoyed it.
Khon Kaen has a towering new temple on the edge of a small lake. 
Most of the lake shore was bordered by park.
I don't know the name of this game, but it is played on a volleyball court with a wicker ball. Hands are out and feet are in (chest and head seemed OK). This was played enthusiastically.I had a nice dinner at a nice restaurant with live music, played enthusiastically. There was one other franghi there, which was sort of a good change after Luang Prabang and Vientiane. Back at the hotel I spent time packing up Lao loot to mail home the next the morning, and then wandered downstairs and met John (or something else no doubt).
John is a thirty year old from Istanbul but his family used to live in the Balkans and he invested in apartments in Istanbul when everyone was plowing money into stock, and now they've lost their money and he has some, but he studied in China thinking that Chinese fluency was the ticket to a good job but there are no good jobs for Chinese speakers in Turkey so he has lived in Thailand being a hedonist but he'd really like to go back to China but he can't and now he wants to move to Malaysia because he thinks he'll have better luck there with women than he has in Thailand (!!!), except he'd really, really like to go back to China because he is sure that he'd have luck with women in China and they really have souls. That said, he was interested in a woman that lived in the same apartment block in Khon Kaen he did and found out that she worked at a massage parlor, and did I have any advice for him.
There was only a bit more punctuation in his delivery. I said "wow" and thought to myself that I am not enthusiastic enough for this very nice town.
I did not burn the floor with the mosquito coils.
I mailed my stuff the next morning and got a bus to Khorat. I'd thought to wander around a few hours in Khorot but there was no place to store my bag at the Khorat bus station and the staff, in what I am sure was a well intentioned effort to meet my partially understood desires, hustled me on to the next bus out of town. This to Surin in the southern part of Isan. Surin, like the hotel the night before, was probably another reaction to the ease of the border crossing from Laos to Thailand. My guide book said that the nearby border crossing to Cambodia was used infrequently by travelers and existed mainly for Thais to go to a casino in a no-mans land immediately after leaving Thailand and before getting to Cambodian passport control. But, it was an official border crossing and might be possible to find a car to take you deeper into Cambodia, past a mine field infested ex-war zone which had seen heavy fighting as recently as the 1990's. All this on washed out dirt roads. Drama!
Surin was nice. It lacked Khon Kaen's enthusiasm, but as noted that was beyond me too.
What Surin had was some really good things to see. So I took a day and hired a car and driver.
About 13 kilometers from town sits the village of Ban Tha Sawang. This is apparently one of the most famous silk weaving villages in Thailand. I visited a place with maybe a dozen looms and I think anyone would find this fascinating. I don't really understand how looms work, so I am going to struggle to explain it here. However, it is fair to say that it is basic to hand looms that they are one person (OK, woman) machines. These looms required four people to operate. One sat one floor down on a platform, reaching through a hole in the ceiling to manipulate some of the pattern. Two other women flanked the loom performing a similar task. The fourth lady did more typically loomy activities involving thread and pedals and the like. They very slowly (an inch a day, it was claimed) produced cloth of stunning beauty with equally stunning prices. All pieces made to order. Starting price roughly $1,000 per meter. More for the really good stuff of course.
I was not even tempted to reach for my wallet.
Surin is also reasonably close to some of Thailand's best Khmer buildings. So this became a warm up for the visit to Cambodia.
It was raining when we got back to Surin from the day's excursion. It was a pretty short walk to the hotel, so who's bothered by a little rain? Dogs. I walked by a parked bus and lots of woofy sounds started up. About 8 mutts charged out from under the bus. I backed up to a tree and tried to remember what the approved action was. Two of the unlovely troop actually nipped me. I was not a happy person. I was a scared person. I was luckily a person that got nipped where clothed and whose skin did not get broken.
I did not burn the floor with the mosquito coils.
I mailed my stuff the next morning and got a bus to Khorat. I'd thought to wander around a few hours in Khorot but there was no place to store my bag at the Khorat bus station and the staff, in what I am sure was a well intentioned effort to meet my partially understood desires, hustled me on to the next bus out of town. This to Surin in the southern part of Isan. Surin, like the hotel the night before, was probably another reaction to the ease of the border crossing from Laos to Thailand. My guide book said that the nearby border crossing to Cambodia was used infrequently by travelers and existed mainly for Thais to go to a casino in a no-mans land immediately after leaving Thailand and before getting to Cambodian passport control. But, it was an official border crossing and might be possible to find a car to take you deeper into Cambodia, past a mine field infested ex-war zone which had seen heavy fighting as recently as the 1990's. All this on washed out dirt roads. Drama!
Surin was nice. It lacked Khon Kaen's enthusiasm, but as noted that was beyond me too.
What Surin had was some really good things to see. So I took a day and hired a car and driver.
About 13 kilometers from town sits the village of Ban Tha Sawang. This is apparently one of the most famous silk weaving villages in Thailand. I visited a place with maybe a dozen looms and I think anyone would find this fascinating. I don't really understand how looms work, so I am going to struggle to explain it here. However, it is fair to say that it is basic to hand looms that they are one person (OK, woman) machines. These looms required four people to operate. One sat one floor down on a platform, reaching through a hole in the ceiling to manipulate some of the pattern. Two other women flanked the loom performing a similar task. The fourth lady did more typically loomy activities involving thread and pedals and the like. They very slowly (an inch a day, it was claimed) produced cloth of stunning beauty with equally stunning prices. All pieces made to order. Starting price roughly $1,000 per meter. More for the really good stuff of course.
I was not even tempted to reach for my wallet.Surin is also reasonably close to some of Thailand's best Khmer buildings. So this became a warm up for the visit to Cambodia.
It was raining when we got back to Surin from the day's excursion. It was a pretty short walk to the hotel, so who's bothered by a little rain? Dogs. I walked by a parked bus and lots of woofy sounds started up. About 8 mutts charged out from under the bus. I backed up to a tree and tried to remember what the approved action was. Two of the unlovely troop actually nipped me. I was not a happy person. I was a scared person. I was luckily a person that got nipped where clothed and whose skin did not get broken.
Later that very same day I see a mural painting in a Surin temple that exactly captured the moment.
Well, there were many more dogs attacking me. And I had a shirt on. And, of course, my nose is bigger. But this mural almost exactly captured the moment. Creepy.
Next day spent getting to over the border at O Smach and on to Siem Reap, Angor's launching pad.
Minibus ride from the bus station next to my hotel. That was easy! My bag, my really big bag, got a seat to itself. When we left the station there were three of us, including the driver. And my bag and two large parcels for drop off.
We stopped to pick up others. We peaked at 18 and my feet couldn't touch the ground after the first 15 minutes of the 90 minute trip. I held someones shopping on my lap.
The Thai side of the border was simplicity itself. I think it is geared for crowds of Thais going to the no man's land casino. No interest in my bag.
The Cambodian side involved getting to pay about $30 in Thai Baht for a $20 visa. The sign right there said "$20". The Cambodian official listened politely to my questions and comments regarding the fee being requested, and repeated the, umm, request for the higher fee. And he got the higher fee.
There were not one but two cars willing to drive me. I picked the one with the windshield. The first 200 meters was a wide smooth concrete express way. Then another passport check. Then the road was rock filled craters dusted with dirt. The sides of the road had all of the land mine warning a person could want. Fields had dead and blackened trees splintered about half way up. No one to be seen. No imagination required.
This ended after about 30 minutes, and for a while the road switched back and forth between pretty good dirt and paved. It settled into paved after another 30 minutes and I was in Siem Reap within four hours of getting in the car. No complaints.
I checked into the nicest hotel I've stayed at since Bangkok, the Victoria Angor Resort, and settled in for six nights. What I expect to be the longest stay anywhere of this trip.
I had a great stay at an area that sees something like 2 million visitors a year. When I was last there, in 1995, there were few places to stay, only a couple of restaurants and I think one paved road. Two comfortably lengthed day trips I took now would then have been too dangerous or taken many days to accomplish.
Well, there were many more dogs attacking me. And I had a shirt on. And, of course, my nose is bigger. But this mural almost exactly captured the moment. Creepy.Next day spent getting to over the border at O Smach and on to Siem Reap, Angor's launching pad.
Minibus ride from the bus station next to my hotel. That was easy! My bag, my really big bag, got a seat to itself. When we left the station there were three of us, including the driver. And my bag and two large parcels for drop off.
We stopped to pick up others. We peaked at 18 and my feet couldn't touch the ground after the first 15 minutes of the 90 minute trip. I held someones shopping on my lap.
The Thai side of the border was simplicity itself. I think it is geared for crowds of Thais going to the no man's land casino. No interest in my bag.
The Cambodian side involved getting to pay about $30 in Thai Baht for a $20 visa. The sign right there said "$20". The Cambodian official listened politely to my questions and comments regarding the fee being requested, and repeated the, umm, request for the higher fee. And he got the higher fee.
There were not one but two cars willing to drive me. I picked the one with the windshield. The first 200 meters was a wide smooth concrete express way. Then another passport check. Then the road was rock filled craters dusted with dirt. The sides of the road had all of the land mine warning a person could want. Fields had dead and blackened trees splintered about half way up. No one to be seen. No imagination required.
This ended after about 30 minutes, and for a while the road switched back and forth between pretty good dirt and paved. It settled into paved after another 30 minutes and I was in Siem Reap within four hours of getting in the car. No complaints.
I checked into the nicest hotel I've stayed at since Bangkok, the Victoria Angor Resort, and settled in for six nights. What I expect to be the longest stay anywhere of this trip.
I had a great stay at an area that sees something like 2 million visitors a year. When I was last there, in 1995, there were few places to stay, only a couple of restaurants and I think one paved road. Two comfortably lengthed day trips I took now would then have been too dangerous or taken many days to accomplish.
At night Siem Reap hummed to the sound of music and whatnot from dozens of pubs and restaurants.
But the thing is still Angor. I road a bike, hired a car, hired a jeep and got toured around in one of these little things,
a motorcycle pulling a chariot which are called tuk-tuks locally, at least to tourists. I avoided these.
Which I sort of regret.
But the thing is still Angor. I road a bike, hired a car, hired a jeep and got toured around in one of these little things,
a motorcycle pulling a chariot which are called tuk-tuks locally, at least to tourists. I avoided these.
Which I sort of regret. The anchient Angor temples are pretty familiar to lots of people. But I was glad to see them up close again, and to see many I'd not seen before.
For something like four centuries the Khmer kings built in increasing complexity, though not always improved artistry. Much of the finest detail work preceeds the well known Angor Wat and Bayon, which made for a good treasure hunt even at buildings not that imposing in themselves. And I got my fill of stairs. 
One of the best experiances was at a temple I'd not seen before. Beng Mealea lays well out of town. I saw only a couple of other foreigners while I was there, and the site was large enough we hardly stumbled over each other. 
The place lacks the roped off areas and direction signs of the major temples closer to Siem Reap. With the help of a local guide I had lots of fun wiggling through openings and climbing up and down tumbled stones to buried passage ways with some jewel of a carving at their end. A boy's own India Jones extravaganza.
The place lacks the roped off areas and direction signs of the major temples closer to Siem Reap. With the help of a local guide I had lots of fun wiggling through openings and climbing up and down tumbled stones to buried passage ways with some jewel of a carving at their end. A boy's own India Jones extravaganza. The only thorn of Angor was the sales folk. I believe I was asked to buy water 1000 times in 5 days, frequently very insistently by many people at once (I also needed and bought a lot of water, so ....)
Most of the temples have these staging grounds for the bandits to prepare to pounce. Much of the pouncing is done by very young children. A couple were frank enough to say, in substance "I am going to keep following you and pestering you until you buy something from me."
Others were more delicate. The only out and out childish nastiness came when I bought something from one youngster and not from others standing nearby. In the hot sun and after six hours it gets hard to remember that they are very young and no doubt very poor and, in all likelyhood, acting under the direction of adults. Of course it is right that these folk have a way to profit directly from their heritage. Still, I am surprised that scores of kids are not found tied to trees every night.
There was a second, smaller, group of sales folk. Vastly more calming. Little old ladies, with shaved heads, would be at alters in some temples selling a prayerfor your benefit, and a little incense, and a thread for your wrist.
Best regards,
Sam
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