Bamboo Bridge and Talking with Dolphins

This weekend was the King's birthday, a national holiday in Cambodia. So I packed my sunscreen and a book (The Hungry Tide by Amitav Ghosh this time, I thought it was pretty mediocre but it had a couple of scenes set in Kratie where we were going) and headed out with three friends for an adventure. First we went to Kampong Cham, the third largest city in Cambodia according to Wikipedia. (Bonus points if you can name the two that are larger)

There isn't much of a tourism industry in Kampong Cham, the handful of obligatory western cafes along the river, and a few places to rent bicycles. The main attraction for foreigners is the Bamboo Bridge. This bridge looks pretty rickety, and leads to an unfairly picturesque island. There isn't much in the way of railings, and it is a little wider than an average car. The sound the bamboo makes as you ride across it is horrible and terrifying, but the bridge is strong enough for cars and motos to drive on as well.

The most interesting thing about this bridge? Every year it gets blown away in the storms that come with rainy season. And every year after that season is done, the people of Kampong Cham rebuild it. In between the island is only accessible by boat.

After spending a day in Kampong Cham charmed by its quietness, we headed further inland to Kratie. Where there are dolphins! Sadly, I have no pictures of dolphins; they surfaced by brief moments of times to quickly for my camera to catch. The Irrawaddy river dolphins aren't the attractive dolphins that we think of, the flipper dolphins. We watched them for an hour, brief glimpses against the gray of the Mekong river. Instead I offer you this picture of a dolphin statue.

And then back to Phnom Penh, five hours in a cramped minivan designed for twelve people but filled with sixteen and no air conditioning. Mildly worse than the bus ride there in which the women next to us spent most of her time dry heaving.

Hoi An

Some new geography.

Hoi An in some ways is a paradox, I loved the part designated for tourists (the 'old town' of Hoi An is blocked off from cars and has been declared a UNESCO world heritage site), but I hated that there was nothing but tourism. No matter how far I wandered, to the beach, through the local market, across winding roads as I (naturally) got lost, everything was still catered to the tourist.

All the old yellow buildings, red flags hanging from every shop, and that rare bit of quiet I don't often find. I think Hoi An is in many respects like a Western ghost town. There weren't any people dressed up from earlier times, but between the souvenir shops, the lack of any buildings being used for their original purposes, and the constant milling about and picture taking of tourists I guess I was waiting for the Vietnam version of a cowboy to come out and stage a reenactment.

The regional cuisine was fantastic though. Shrimp steamed in rice paper, and crispy fried wontons piled with vegetables. (I promise to do a whole post of delicious things I've eaten) There were some pork noodles too, but I suppose being pescetarian means I don't experience as many aspects of food culture as I could. I like to think I just experience different aspects.

We arrived in Hoi An, spent the afternoon at a quiet and pretty beach, and spent the next day perusing old town. By nightfall we knew we wouldn't last another day and picked our bus ticket to Hue. I'm sure I could have explored Hoi An more in depth, or maybe just spent the day sipping wine and looking onto the river, but we had only a week and wanted to see as much as possible. As a final goodbye we looped through the town after a late dinner, had a beer with new friends, and watched people set candles floating to the river, small pinpricks of light against the black night. (Which thanks to Blogspot's confusing picture uploading, is actually the fourth picture)