Wat's Cooking!?
Trip Start
Mar 29, 2005
1
56
65
Trip End
Dec 17, 2005
Battambong,
Cambodia
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
An early start took us to the jetty for our scenic 'cruise' across Cambodias imposing lakey/river combo. The boat wasn't exactly the stable and sturdy vessel which we'd expected. Ok, we weren't counting on a stylish and nippy speed-boat or a large fancy yacht, but we were expecting a bit more than a rickety wooden long-tail jalopy (already laden down with a large group of German tourists and their mountain of luggage).
We dared to go where a number of the other travellers with us didn't....we squeezed on to a narrow wooden plank of a seat and sat knee to knee with the other passengers. The trip apparently only takes 3 hours and there were life-jackets and the river wasn't that wide - hey ho we thought whilst unable to move or relax our bodies!
The boat ride didn't turn out to be too bad. It was bloody uncomfortable but the scenery was beautiful as we chugged our way through traditional floating villages in the middle of no-where. Children where splashing around, shouting and waving, whilst the adults sat precariously balanced on the edges of little wooden boats, casting nets and fishing.
We actually passed our boat companys other boat heading in the opposite direction. It was the (slightly more) modern river cruiser pictured on our tickets. Guess we must have picked the wrong day!
After SIX hours (that's SIX NOT THREE!!!!!) we finally arrived in Battambong from the outskirts of town along the rivery highway.
Choo-Choo!
The people immediately seemed so much more easy going even the touts were laid back. Refreshingly we were left to our own preference as far as accommodation went, so we settled for the man who let D sit up front in his free minibus and helped us to beat ze Germans to the cheapest room in the fancy sounding Royal Hotel.The next morning - our first authentic Battambongian experience was a Khmer cookery course in the misleadingly titled 'Smokin' Pot'. A good wok smokes when it's ready to use....what else could it have meant?!
At 10am-ish Vannak, clearly a patient teacher from the outset, took his two clueless pupils on a whistle stop tour of the sights and sounds of a Cambodian wet market in full swing. We watched as Vannak bargained for the best produce, most of which he had to explain to us at length as we've never bought anything much more exotic than a few bananas!
We had already decided on the 3 dishes to cook up. D chose his favourite - Beef Lok Lak (basically steak and fried eggs!), E chose a traditional Khmer curry - Fish Amok and we asked Vannak to choose the third. He went for Spicy Pork.
So round the market we went picking up our fresh ingredients - so fresh in fact our lil'catfish tried to make a run for it, only settling down when whacked over the head with the back of a knife.
Back at the restaurant Vannak set out of kitchen and we started preparing the dishes. Those who have been unfortunate enough to witness our cooking skills know what a kerfuffle it can be.
Night Night Fishy
This time was no exception. We started out making chilli paste, pounding at the ingredients with a pestle and mortar with bits splattering about all over the place. Chopping things took us ages - poor Vannak kept reclaiming bits to chop himself when he realised he would be waiting a while for us to get it done. We were shown a new and inventive way to crush garlic by brandishing a cleaver in each hand - again our attempts meant most of it was flying across the room, although we did manage to keep chunks of finger out of it.Eventually we managed to get all the bits in to the wok and once in it wasn't long before we had our three very tasty looking dishes done. Everything we made was much simpler than we had thought it would be, and the freshness of it really came through. To top it all we got to kickback and relax whilst our mess was cleared up for us and pig the lot of it ourselves!
The following day, our second Battambongian experience was an impromptu trip out in to the surrounding countryside. We hadn't planned on it but the moto tout at our hotel kept asking - seeing as we had no other plans we went for it. In doing so we popped our moto cherries. Up till then we had been making use of tuk-tuks or walking due to the craziness of traffic and lack of helmets. But here there wasn't much choice and seeing as the roads are so crappy that traffic never seems to go faster then 10mph we did as the locals and hoped for the best. Actually it wasn't quite as the locals cause we didn't squeeze aboard one bike - as westerners our bums are too big for doing that for more than a short trip down the road.
We took in a very picturesque ride through the countryside, past rice fields with their pretty purple flowers growing amongst the rice, and villages with the ever grinning kids as always shouting out 'hello' as we passed (or even 'goodbye as some of them got a little muddled) and waving.
One for the pot - One for the floor.
You can't help but grin back at them, some of the kids would reach out to slap hands with us as we passed and some little girls would run up and give E a flower. E's moto driver was jealous cause apparently they just ignore him when he's out on his bike alone! The villages were very basic and typically poor, yet their was always room for a stunning pagoda in amongst the run down and ramshackle houses making quite a spectacular contrast.Our ride took us to a village at the bottom of a steep hill on which sits a Wat looking out across the otherwise flat landscape. As soon as we hopped of the bikes we were surrounded by kids offering to be our guides (despite most of them being far to young to speak any English!). We were recommended a lad of 16 and sure enough he was the business. Despite the fact he had grown up in such a rural village and only ever attended the local school, his language skills were astounding. He marched us, all dusty and sweaty, up the hill whilst recounting the Buddhist tales of how the hill at come in to existence and pointing out interesting views along the way. After showing us around the beautiful Pagoda and temples he took us to see some caves known as the killing caves. Back in the '70s the area had been used in much the same way as the killing fields in Phnom Penh. The victims of the Khmer Rouge had been brought to the caves and brutally killed by being thrown to their deaths through the roof of the narrow and jaggedy cave. Skulls and bones have been gathered up in to a simple shrine and the caves now act as a temple.
As we descended back towards the village, a group of the local children came running up asking for pens for school.
One of these two is a professional
We just so happened to have a load of pencils in our bag (we have learnt to be prepared for kids in rural areas as they are always so happy and grateful to get something - when was the last time a kid back in England got so excited about a Winnie-the-Pooh pencil?!), and dished them out and chatted to the little kids.Back on the bikes we continued our tour stopping to look at huge mats covered with red chillies drying in the sun at the side of the road. Another couple of kids came out to say hello - the little boy being fascinated by Ds height and just wanted to be picked up and swung round at such heights!! We arrived at another temple, this time a corn on the cob Angkor Wat style one, but again on a hill with a ridiculous number of steps to climb to get to it! A little boy approached us offering to be our guide. We didn't really need one but seeing as he was so sweet E couldn't turn him down so he was hired on the spot. Turned out "Do you need a guide?" was only one of the two English phrases he knew, but he showed us around pointing out where the old statues had been destroyed or broken, and kept giving E flowers for her hair. The Wat was mostly in ruins but still attractive in it's remote setting, and no other people about apart from a couple of friendly loitering monks. Back at the bottom of the steps our lovely little guide rolled out his second English phrase - "Want Coke". He had done a sound job and well deserved such high payment.
Our next stop was a small family run fruit farm. In a small allotment we were shown orange trees, banana trees and many pineapple bushes (no they don't grow in trees like E had thought). We were also shown how rice wine is distilled in the garden shed, and then sat down to sample all of the above (and more). There is nothing like straight from the hedge pineapple washed down with fruity rice wine schnapps stuff.
As the sun was going down we clambered aboard (motos and all) the infamous and ingenious bamboo train. Basically a bamboo board (about the size of a ping-pong table) balanced on top of a couple of sets of wheels and rigged up to an outboard motor. When a train is coming the whole thing can be dismantled in seconds! The 'train' sits very low to the tracks so every bump is painfully felt through the thin base, but aside from that it is an exhilarating way to travel. We bounced along through the countryside with the sun-setting over the rice fields, and the wind in our hair........it was great!
