Cambodia - 2016: Arrival in Cambodia

We're above the clouds for most of the trip, but at the Vietnamese Cambodian border it clears. I think I was expecting an endless vista of green forest and jungle, rather like the Amazon, but in fact it is an endless jigsaw of brown agricultural fields interspersed with small rivers and touches of green on the top of some higher ridges of land. The brown because it is dry season, the agriculture because the endless forests are no more.

Phnom Penh stretches out waterside from the junction of the Tonle Sap and Mekong rivers, and from the air is a mix of what looks like shanties and established neighbourhoods with a few patches of monoculture housing units punctuated by occasional tall glass towers - the Asian city of the future. Getting a visa is a simple matter of lining up once to hand in my passport and photo, and then a second time to pay and pick up my passport with visa. A line of cell-phone provider kiosks and a ticket booth for a taxi or tuktuk to town makes it easy to get organized and off to the city. A tuktuk is a small wheeled cart with bench seats facing front and back, open to the air but with a roof, and pulled by a motorcycle on which the driver sits. That and sharing a motorcycle with the motodop driver are the main means of getting around as a tourist.

On first impression, the road to Phnom Penh reminds me of Uganda. The traffic is a chaotic mix of tuktuks, motorcycles, and cars, most of which are large and fancy and new looking. It appears that if you can afford a car, you can afford a new one. The traffic moves like a school of fish, following some sort of rhythm and pattern that is not immediately obvious, and certainly doesn't follow any of the standard North American rules of the road. The sides of the road are lined by buildings whose main floors are shopfronts selling, making, and fixing everything under the sun. There is a general atmosphere of crumbling concrete, new construction, and everything in between. Occasional buildings show evidence of the french colonial past, although much altered by modern commerce. Its hot, but there is a breeze through the open sides of the tuktuk so quite bearable, and not humid, which I was also expecting.

My hotel is on Sisowath Quay, which runs along the river at the more northern end of the city, and is run by a Brit named Mick and is apparently a hangout for some of the resident expats. The main floor has a long bar stretching back from the door, and a line of small tables on the opposite side. The day manager is friendly and efficient and within a few minutes I am installed in my room - smallish, big bed, no windows which is OK as less options to get things stolen, clean bathroom/shower, and best of all, a fan and a good AC. And then it is about 1 PM, beer o'clock, and time to make a plan for the rest of the day.