The Long Road (and Border Crossing) to Cambodia!

November 18-20.

What would have been an hour or so flight took nearly 24 hours by overland travel. My friend Peter, when we were in French West Africa, had said he enjoyed seeing the landscapes and meeting locals, it was more enjoyable than flying, blah blah blah. I could see his logic but frankly, I think I’d rather fly next time HAHA. From the islands of southern Thailand, I took a ferry/bus to the mainland and the train back to Bangkok, where I stayed overnight. I met up with two of the French guys I’d met in Koh Lanta, one of whom lived in Bangkok and the other trying to, swam in the rooftop pool and we had a fantastic dinner in Chinatown.

The first train to the Thai border town left at 6 a.m. and cost less than US$2. I love Seat61.com (best guide for worldwide overland travel) for all the detailed information it provides! Leaving Thailand, I realized that I had accidentally overstayed my visa by a day and was fined 500 baht (about US$15) by the Royal Thai Police. Oops.

The entry into Cambodia was filled with scams and it didn’t seem to end once we entered the country. (= overall opinion of Cambodia.)

1. Taxi from the train station to the Thai border took us to a fake Cambodia embassy fit with “Welcome to Cambodia” sign (before we had even left Thailand – how do people fall for this?). We simply walked to the Thai border ourselves.
2. To get our visa on arrival, the officials wanted a 100 baht (Thai currency) “processing fee” despite the sign saying it should be exactly and only US$20. I told him no a few times and then he finally turned in my paperwork. One of the girls on the train just gave him the evil eye. It took less than 10 minutes to get a ghetto handwritten visa back on our passports.
3. Bus to the Passenger Transit Center was free, but once at the center, you were charged an exorbitant (by Cambodian and Southeast Asian standards) amount for bus or taxi to the city of Siem Reap. I’m told it’s run by 3 different mafias and they alternate days.
4. The taxi we took that said we would be dropped off at our hotels actually dropped us off at a taxi station somewhere outside of town and we had no choice but to pay for another taxi to get into town because it was getting dark out. They said the taxi ride was free unless if we booked them there and then for US$15 for a tour of Angkor Wat the following day. Grrr. Also casually asked the efftard taxi driver about SIM cards, he said they were US$10 for foreigners but as a local he could get them for US$5. (Every other SIM card in SEA I’ve had has been US$0.25-2.00.) Evil eye.

I was rather cranky by the time I checked into my guesthouse and didn’t really leave my room much (do I feel like being wary/annoyed about constant scams/ripoffs/misinformation and suspicious of everyone I encounter today?) The outside world was hostile and I couldn’t be bothered with it. Not liking Cambodia at all. It was so unpleasant compared to every other Southeast Asian country I’d been to this year, which was pretty much all of them.

However, my NYC best friend Sri and his wife Nipa were arriving the following evening. Yaaaaaaaay! Excited to see them after a year! :D

The Crazy Train in Mauritania!

October 3.

One of the most defining and unforgettable experiences during my month in Africa was the “Crazy Train”…

Peter and I arrived early to the train station in Nouadibou, Mauritania, since timetables seemed more of a guideline than a rule. The station was empty of both employees and passengers. There was a train coming today, right? Some men found us, presumably employees, and we waited in a small hut of sorts and they gave us hot Moroccan-style (ultrasweet) tea in (questionably hygienic) communal cups.

Later, inside the train station, we encountered a German couple, which was a surprise since we had rarely seen any other foreigners since arriving in Mauritania. Tilman, Jessica and we became fast friends.

Out back, 300-400 people were waiting out by the railroad tracks.

There was the option of riding in the one ticketed passenger car or you could ride in the ore cars for free. Peter, the German couple, nor I ever saw anyone else buy any tickets…

It was curious.

We were told by an official that we were not allowed to take photographs, by order of the Ministry of whatever. My comprehension of French was (and still is) poor and I thought he said they wanted to take a photograph of us four backpackers for promoting tourism haha. We seriously thought we were the only foreigners in the entire country because we hadn’t seen anyone else really.

When the longest train in the world (1.5 kilometers long?) came thundering in as the only functional train in Mauritania, people were running to jump onto the passenger car before it had even stopped. I had an OSM. There was a policeman at one of the doors trying to contain the swarming masses, pushing people off the train. Peter and I saw an opening on the other side of the passenger car and rushed on this back exit and into the first cabin we encountered.

Within the first split seconds, my brain registered two distinct WTFs: There was a man bringing in babies through the cabin’s “window” (WTF #1), thin slabs of plywood (if any) instead of seat cushions in the horrendously worn seats (WTF #2) but we were triumphant in claiming four out of the six seats in the cabin. The man was still bringing in children through the open window. There would eventually be a mother and her total of seven kids crammed into the space of two seats (and as it would turn out later that evening, half into Peter and my seats). The German couple had the seats next to the “doors” and we settled as best we could, laughing about the state of disrepair of the train, how we were probably fools for being the only one who actually paid for tickets, and the absurdity of the situation. This was the Crazy Train! Welcome to Mauritania!

Tilman and Peter.

Plywood to sit on.

The family of 9 brought their possessions, which took up most the ground space. I was confused about why they had fuzzy blankets when it was so hot out.

The ceiling.

Yeah, this was going to get dusty/dirty.

Worn seats. Such a good laugh. We inspected the train compartment, noting the missing windows and doors, and determined it was probably an Italian train from the 1950s based on the multilingual signage. We joked that it was probably retired due to safety reasons and given to Mauritania for free.

The Germans had better sleep than Peter and I did since they actually had their own seats. Peter and I were invaded by skin-infected children and “Big Momma” as the train ride progressed. It was going to be a 12+ hour train ride to Atar. The stops had no physical stations, there weren’t announcements, and people settled in the hallways with their belongings. We were really surprised when a ticket collector actually came around. (The mother only paid for two seats, not for her and her seven kids.)

Near sundown, at one stop, it seemed like everyone else on the train had received some secret cue to start covering up and dressing seriously as if for winter. Big Momma broke out the fuzzy blanket and Peter put on his Nepalese mountain hat, which I thought was funny. There was a small OSM, when I wondered how cold it actually got at night in the desert, because I certainly was not prepared and the train had open windows. I didn’t really need to worry though, because I wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. Peter and I were elbowed, kneed, and had all sorts of body parts pressing against us in random places (“Whose foot is that in my neck?”) as the kids, we, and Big Momma shifted around through the evening. It was a bit uncomfortable hahaha. There were quite a few instances where the train would lurch violently to a stop and I would wake up screaming and/or falling out of my “seat.”

At one point, I told Peter I was imagining myself one of my idyllic paradise beaches in Indonesia, Thailand, wherever. He said yes, that’s all good and nice, he’s spent time on the beach as well but they’re not very interesting stories to tell. “I bet you’ll never forget this train ride! HAHAHA.”

We four were dropped off pre-dawn in the pitch black desert.

Heading to Berlin!

September 16.

“How am I going to find this kid?” I wondered aloud, peering out the window of our kickass train to Germany. We were arriving in Berlin Hauptbanhof, the central station, and the platform was crowded. I caught a glimpse of my friend Philip, who I had met in Mandalay, Myanmar, as the train slowed. YAY! Will and I disembarked and I wondered the same question again, looking around the throngs of people, trying to locate the navy blue jumper I’d seen. Then I realized Philip was standing right next to me and he hadn’t seen me either hahaha. YAY! I pounced on him with a big hug. Reunited after six months, half a world away! Traveling is awesome!

First order of business: welcome beers haha. Philip helped us find our aparthotel in Schoenhauser Allee and we went for dinner at an Italian restaurant with great pizza. He had only recently moved to Berlin so would be as touristy/lost as we would be to see the sights. He had researched and prepared an itinerary for us! Sweet. :)

Philip collected some postcards from near the bathroom. They were inappropriate haha.

I am too lazy to have them translated right now. :P

[Update]: 1st: Men who watch porn look more optimistically into the future. 2nd: Every tenth European was begotten in a bed of Ikea.

Will was collecting beer bottle caps for his friends’ beer-bottle-cap table idea. He probably found a dozen or so on the street of all different brands. Ah, Germany. I had told the guys that I wasn’t keen on beer or drinking. Philip responded, “You’re in beer country! Drink beer! :D”

The little traffic light man with the hat! I found the East German pedestrian signals really cute haha. :) Ampelmännchen! 

The Second Most Scenic Train in Switzerland!

September 7.

“It’s what people come to Switzerland to see,” one of the Interlaken housemates had told me. She said an hour before the train reached Lausanne, to look out the window and be amazed. After the most scenic train ride to Interlaken, I was really looking forward to it. I had been waiting for this day for a very long time. I was finally heading to Geneva to meet one of my best friends Will at the airport, who was flying in from Washington, D.C. (and not coincidentally, arriving on his birthday.) YAY!!! I caught the first train (6 a.m.) so I could play welcoming committee at 8:30 a.m.

It’s going to be another one of those blog posts where the pictures speak for themselves I think. :P

I’m living in a fantasy.

Favorite picture from the train ride. Is that a castle?! :D

Second favorite photo.

ARRIVED IN GENEVA! YAYYYYYYY! Will found me in the airport before I found him. I met his sister Campbell and her husband Ernest, who were both cool Americans living in Switzerland. We had an epic Eastern European road trip planned for the next two weeks and the fun begins right f’n now! :D