Kep

With Shanti freshly back to Cambodia, we decided to take a quiet weekend to the quiet beach town of Kep. We caught a 1:00pm bus - which, unfortunately, did not leave until almost 2:00 - but thankfully made the trip uneventfully and without a flat tire. The fun started well before our arrival in Kep. On the bus, Shanti and I were surrounded by a group of saffron-swathed monks headed to a temple in Kampot Province. They spoke English fairly well and were eager both to practice and to chat with westerners. Shanti and I, finding monks to be both captivating and adorable, were equally eager. The discussion was fairly light, but quite cordial, and by the time we got to their pagoda (a bit of a ways before we arrived in Kep), there was an exchange of phone numbers. That's right folks, I got a monk's digits.

Anyways, having driven through Kep on our way to Kampot in August, we were eager to return. The sleepy town, about a half an hour east of the Vietnamese border, has the reputation of a very laid-back and relaxing atmosphere as well as excellent seafood (crab in particular) and beautiful offshore islands. In the 1960s, it was a favorite hangout for French expats, but the reign of the Khmer Rouge did its damage. The shells of dozens of formerly beautiful French villas line the streets of Kep awaiting restoration, only to be occupied by squatters with nowhere else to stay. With a bit of investment, Kep could easily regain the grandeur and eloquence it was known for in the '60s, though its charm will undoubtedly draw vacationers regardless.

After four hours on the bus - punctuated by a half hour stint on dirt road - we came to the outskirts of Kep at sunset with the road winding along the water's edge. A handful of islands lay offshore, the biggest of which, Phu Quoc, belongs to the Vietnamese in a somewhat contentious dispute. We caught a moto to our guesthouse. Courtesy of Shanti and as a birthday present, we splurged a bit and stayed at Veranda, which came highly recommended by a number of friends and coworkers. It was indeed magnificent. Beautiful stone walls and walkways led down to the restaurant, an open air wooden deck overlooking the Gulf of Thailand and Bokor Mountain (outside of Kampot). Separating private bungalows were wooden walkways, suspended in the trees and giving the feeling of a sophisticated Swiss Family Robinson-style tree house. We checked in and had a lovely dinner at the restaurant - spring rolls and pepper steak (Kampot is known throughout Cambodia as having fantastic fresh pepper) - while a cool breeze blew and the sun set over the water.

Retiring to our bungalow, we were playing a game of cards when my phone rang. It was the monk, the Venerable Aneta, checking to see if we made it okay, how the weather was, and if we were still planning to visit his temple in Phnom Penh. I, of course, assured him that we would and I'm quite excited about the visit. (He called again when Shanti and I were in the middle of dinner last night with some friends).

In the morning, Shanti and I caught a boat to Koh Tonsay (Rabbit Island). We shared the boat with a group of middle-aged Kiwis on holiday for a few weeks, which made for an entertaining ride. The island was far bigger and more developed - I'm using the term developed very loosely - than Koh Russei off the coast of Sihanoukville. Instead of settling with most of the tourists at the beach on arrival, we wandered around the island a bit looking for a nicer and more secluded spot. After a twenty minute walk, we came upon a beautiful long beach with soft sand. A few thatch huts and simple boats dotted the waterfront with families fishing, harvesting seaweed and kelp, or playing with young children. After saying hello, we took out our kramars - a cotton shawl-like cloth that's used for everything - and laid out in the sun. When we were sufficiently warmed, we waded into the shallow, clear, blue water sinking our feet into the softest sand I've ever felt. Sunbathe, rinse, repeat. Such was the manner our day was spent.

By mid afternoon we were heading back to the other side of the island to join our Kiwi friends for the boat ride back to Kep. We had another delicious dinner at the Veranda restaurant - enormous prawn kebabs and ribs - during another beautiful sunset.

On Sunday morning we decided to explore Kep on foot. We walked from Veranda's hilltop location down to the waterfront. It was hot, but there was a nice, cool breeze. The street along the water was lined with gutted French villas, the yellow paint faded but still visible. A few minutes into our walk, we came upon the crab market, a comparatively bustling row of about a dozen shacks, featuring fresh crab, shrimp, squid, and other seafood. Continuing on, we saw a group of four boys fishing out on some rocks. We sat on the side of the road and watched them haul in small to medium-sized fish and squid for a half hour, showing them pictures of themselves as they left to cook their catch. We completed a loop of Kep, ending up in the "downtown" area, where vendors flag down passing cars to sell bags of freshly cooked crab, ice cream, and trinkets like carved shells and bamboo bracelets.

All in all it was a very nice weekend. I'm a bit conflicted as to whether I liked Kep/Koh Tonsay better than Sihanoukville/Koh Russei. Kep was far far better than Sihanoukville: charming, peaceful, relaxing, and not at all sleazy. Koh Russei, however, felt more isolated and private than Koh Tonsay, even if it was a bit further away and slightly more difficult to access. Regardless of which locale I like better, I certainly did not think I would find so many nice beaches within in Cambodia itself, but that I would be frequenting southern Thailand instead.