Our first stop in Cambodia was the northeast town of Ban Lung. Ban Lung is separated from the rest of Cambodian civilization by a long dirt road, which our bus barreled down at frightening speeds. It's the dry season in Cambodia, and the "dirt" road would more accurately be referred to as a dust road. Our bus filled with a thick cloud of dust for the entire few hours of the most uncomfortable bus ride I've ever taken. During this time I watched a movie on my laptop.
On our first full day in Ban Lung we rented a motorcycle and went swimming in a nearby crater lake, the area's main attraction.
We then followed a map to the area's biggest waterfall. We were excited to go because this was supposed to be one of those waterfalls where you can actually walk behind/underneath it. Unfortunately for us, there was no water. It's dry season, and we suspect that farmers upstream use what water remains for irrigation. Janet has yet to see a waterfall.
The next day we set out on an adventure through rural Cambodia to find an indigenous minority cemetery where the villagers carve effigies of the dead. Basically, a statue that looks like the dead person stands at their grave. The village was over 40 km away on dirt/dust roads, so we wisely found some masks.
If you think it looks hot, you'd be right. Cambodia is scorching hot in April.
After making it 40 km, we got to a river. Our guidebook makes it seem like the next part is easy. Just pay some villager to take you to the village that's somewhere on the other side of the river, no problem. We suspect that the guidebook writer came with a guide, because it wasn't so easy. Actually, it was impossible. There were no boats at the river, and only children hanging out in the area. The village was pretty tiny and deserted (maybe everyone was working the farms), but we managed to find a few adults around. They looked at us like we were crazy as we tried to non-verbally communicate that we wanted someone to take us across in a boat. At least the river was beautiful.
We stopped at a Chinese minority village for lunch before heading back. My delusional image of rural village life includes old ladies cooking authentic, delicious food that you can't find anywhere else. This image was shattered while eating unappetizing instant noodles. I threw a tentacle (squid?) from the soup to a cat who sniffed it and walked away - bad sign. I watched women go down to the garbage filled riverbank to fill up pails of water, undoubtedly the same water in the soup. Janet had a coke.
Did I mention the dust?
That dust is nuts!
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