MARK: What sort of house do you live in? A mini mansion, a four bedroom box, a two up two down or perhaps an end of terrace?

All very nice.  But would you be in the market for a house built on tall wooden stilts?  Throw into the mix the fact that for half the year you come out of your front door and walk 10 metres down rickety steps to a mud road, with the village below.  And for the other six months, you literally step out of the door and on to your boat should you need to go to school, pop down to the local “shop” or go and see the mother-in-law.

Right up there as an experience

Welcome to the town of Kampong Phlouk in western Cambodia, which literally sits in South East Asia’s largest freshwater lake, Tonle Sap.

I thought I’d seen most things on our month long trip around Indo-China. But oh, no!  Nothing like this!  What a truly fascinating, random place.

According to Wikipedia and I quote:  “The Tonle Sap Lake occupies a geological depression of the vast alluvial floodplain in the Lower Mekong Basin, which had been induced by the collision of the Indian Plate with the Eurasian Plate. The lake’s size, length and water volume varies considerably over the course of a year from an area of around 2,500 km2 (965 sq mi) and a length of 160 km (99 mi) at the end of the dry season in late April to an area of up to 16,000 km2 (6,178 sq mi) and a length of 250 km (160 mi) at the peak of the South-West monsoon’s precipitation culminate in September and early October”.

However there has been nowhere near the normal level of rain this year – the locals blaming climate change…. SOMETHING FOR THE WORLD LEADERS IN PARIS TO CONSIDER!

To get there, we initially travelled by small bus – more about that bus later!

An hour out of Siem Reap (home of the world famous Angkor Wat) we travelled through lush countryside before racing across very flat land, paddy fields everywhere.  Soon rice gave way to mango swamps.  Knarled trees and bushes rose snake-like from dark brown water on either side of our raised dirt track just a few feet above the water’s edge.  We bounced along, leaving a cloud of choking dust enveloping a poor motorbike behind us.

The road then abruptly stopped, replaced by a makeshift temporary quay with around fifty brightly coloured wooden boats all bobbing up and down.  Highway became waterway.  All change please!

Our unnamed boat, was built for about 20 people, wooden bench seats on both sides.  Pushed off from the bankside by a young boy aged about 8, we headed south along the river, electing to climb on the roof to get a panoramic view of the quickly changing landscape.

Casting off – he later gave Sarah a neck massage for $1 – smart boy!

Round the next right-hand bend we saw our first building on stilts.  A “Gendamerie” – here, the local “cop shop”, 30 feet in the air.  Bizarre!

Cop shop in the sky

Around the next left bend it wasn’t the site, but the awful stench of rotting fish that assaulted our senses.  The source close by as two women emptied their nets of recently caught small wriggling fish into wicker baskets ready for manufacturing fish paste – a local speciality.

We were now in the outskirts of Kampong Plouk as the river widened a little more to reveal stilt city.  On both sides, were ramshackle houses with corrugated roofs perched precariously on large wooden logs and beams. Staircases ran down to the bottom level, where pigs grunted, chickens scratched around for seed and young children with very little on played hide and seek on the impacted mud and silt.

Stilt houses were everywhere, now running alongside the water/river just like a “normal street”. And it wasn’t just houses.  There was the local primary school high in the sky, the Catholic Church, Buddhist Monastery and food shop.  You WOOD NOT believe it. A town of 2000 people ingeniously living out of harms way.

Would love to live here

The local school – a playground for only six a months a year

Rush hour

CHECK OUT OUR GUIDE, CHAMS’ VIDEO BY CLICKING ON THE BELOW LINK AND SEE IF YOU CAN SPOT SARAH!

https://www.facebook.com/chamnan.chey/videos/10153704176360619/

After about ten minutes, the houses and work places began to thin out, replaced with deep jungle and mango swamps.  The feeling of isolation grew, just the sound of the old diesel engine and an occasional bright green parrot screeching over-head, with interesting river signs pinned to trees.

Slow down!

But where was the lake?  The answer soon became clear as a shimmering mass of water glistened a few hundred metres down-stream.  We’d made it to the edge of the lake proper.  Nothing now to see, just the horizon and a local fishing boat being visited by a mobile 7/11 mini-mart, another small boat, another enterprising young business lady.

Mobile 7 Eleven

Beautiful – next land, 100 miles away!

Our boats engines were cut.  We drifted.  No sound, just that of lapping water.  It was beautiful.  The sun high and very hot.

But I was keen to explore on foot the town as I could not get my head around the fact that the main “High Street” which was presently 15m wide, had a few weeks before been under 10 metres of water. My wish was soon granted as we headed back, chill time over.  Walking on two four inch wide planks, we disembarked and immediately discovered a bank of car batteries underneath a wooden house.  So this is how they lit their houses.

A battery of batteries

Outside, the cool shade afforded by the wooden structure, a furnace of heat hit us.  It was close to 40C, ideal for drying the light orange freshwater shrimps that were laid out like a carpet – a smelly one at that.  Kids were playing everywhere, all spoke some English, even those who were just a few years old.  It was surreal. A fun experience.  I left thinking I could live here…

This should be 10 metres under water….

Really tasty freshwater shrimps drying on large mats

Back on the bus, time to relax – er no!

Just a couple of miles after boarding from the quay, we slowed down and stopped behind another bus.  The reason soon apparent. We were driving on a compacted mud road, which along this stretch was being widened by additional soil.  In the centre of the road was freshly tipped soil. To our left, a local lorry which had sunk in to the mango swamp and was now leaning at close to 45 degrees.

The road was blocked and remained so for about an hour, until a big yellow “digger/scraper thing” arrived managing to clear part of the road.  The bus in front made it through and sped off.  Our bus approached, did not quite get the line right and promptly began sinking/leaning at 35 degrees, the front right wheel caked deep in mud, stuck down to the axel.

We tried pushing.  That didn’t work.  Somebody found a spade and started to dig.  That didn’t work! So time to find some chains, which in another 30 minutes arrived.  Half an hour later, we were off.  In England, a major drama me thinks.  Here, it was just another typical day.  I like that.  Sequence of events below.

Lorry carrying soil goes off the mud road trying to avoid the soil piles (centre)

Our bus trys to get through and gets stuck

Er, what do we do? Colin giving advice (left)

Then a motorbike tuk tuk gets stuck going through the middle

Pushing doesn’t work. Mark (in green) putting his back in to it

Man with digger thing and chain arrives and pulls bus out

and finally back on the bus

So we are now in Bangok.  I write this blog from a boring little room, looking out of the window to a concrete wall ten feet away.  The high life long since gone. Our four week tour is now over.  A fantastic time, so many experiences.  We were fortunate to have a superb young guide called Cham who is loved by children everywhere he goes.

Cham and friends…

Thailand, Laos, Vietnam and Cambodia.  Four fascinating countries, but if I was to pick one it would be Cambodia.  Why?  Superb scenery, amazing historical sites and even better people.  A country that was nearly wiped out a decade ago, now re-building.  Please do consider going in the future – it deserves all of our support.

A wonder of the World – Angkor Wat

Sarah at dawn – Angkor Wat

MB in reflective mood – Angkor Wat

Now for some chill time.  After 13 weeks on the road, we are off for a break in southern Thailand and then Malaysia.

MY THANKS TO CHRIS D AND CHRIS S FOR THEIR THOUGHTS AND OBSERVATIONS WHICH HAVE GREATLY ASSISTED IN THE COMPILATION OF THIS BLOG, FOLLOWING A DAY WE WILL ALL NEVER EVER FORGET.

Chris D

Chris S

MARK: Daddy Longlegs – they give me the creeps!

They invade the shower at home and walk around the bathroom as if they own the place.  I know they can’t hurt me, but I always have to ask Sarah, to “shoo” the thing outside, or down the plug hole.  Joe’s the same – it must be something in the Bailey male genes.

You’d have thought then, that if somebody was to put a big, black hairy spider on my hand or worse still, on my head, I’d be bound to run a mile right?

WRONG!

This trip of ours is about discovery, understanding people from other countries, learning about their history and overcoming personal fears.  So when Mr Ran said “fancy holding Lulu”, I initially thought he was talking about his dog, not a six inch, fully grown Tarantula!  Another fear to banish, I had to do it.

Lulu going for a walk…

… on me ‘ead son!

This “opportunity” came at the end of another emotion charged day. Mr Ran and his family had just finished serving us a Cambodian “family” dinner.  Our table of 16 (sadly Sarah stayed in bed at the hotel, still ill after five days), enjoyed beautifully cooked spring rolls, a delicious squid salad, freshly caught fish curry and flavoursome vegetable noodles.  And for desert, the freshest juiciest pineapple you have ever tasted!

Cham, our Cambodian Guide, who has been with us for nearly four weeks, had recommended we visit Mr Ran’s house.  So as a group, we piled on to four local tuk-tuks which can be best described as an articulated motor bike pulling a two wheeled chariot akin to Ben-Hur.  Bizarre, but it worked, except when going uphill…

“Tally Ho!”

Our $10 (USD) night out included the return Tuk-Tuk journey, dinner and a couple of drinks.  But as we learnt, Mr Ran did not pocket the profit.  This wonderful man, born in 1970 had lost both his parents and two brothers to the Khmer Rouge in the dark days between 1976 and 1979. He now lives in five rooms, with his wife’s extended family of 30, having taught himself English from listening to overseas tourists as he drove them on his motorbike around the streets of Phnom Penh.

Mr Ran and family

After dinner, he recounted his sad story.  How he had survived with very little food during the Civil War – fried Tarantula’s providing a rare source of protein.  Now as a Tour Guide, he was giving something back using the profits from the Group Dinner to fund the hiring of two teachers twice a week, to teach the local children English.  The food we left (there was too much) was given by him to the local community, many of whom worked in the local “clothing sweat shops” where the Chinese factory owners pay around $2 for an eight hour shift. Made in China is now made in Cambodia… Don’t get me started on this particular subject.

This saintly man had us all enthralled as he talked quietly and calmly about his neighbours a couple of doors away who were active members of the Khmer Rouge under Pol Pot (his name means Political Potential)!  He told us he knew they were murderers and were directly responsible for some of the terrible crimes against humanity.

I felt sick!  Sick with anger.  These people were still walking the streets.  They were never brought to justice.  They were barbaric killers, who simply went back to “their day jobs” once Pol Pot’s regime was finally over-thrown.  They were living next door for God sake.

One of our Group, Chris D asked if he could “forgive” the murderers. Mr Ran answered with great honesty.  I paraphrase. “Forgiveness is the wrong word.  I accept what happened. If I kill him, then his children will kill my children.  What is the point? What would it achieve, there is no point….” Asked if he would invite his “neighbours” round for dinner, Mr Ran firmly said no, “but I would do business with them as we are stronger working together for the country”.

Mr Ran had the heart and the bravery to break the circle of revenge.  We toasted him with Tarantula Whiskey poured from what looked like an old Robinson Barley Water bottle, spiders floating in a grey murky liquid.

Ummmmm – Spider Whiskey – check out Elliott’s face – (right)

How Mr Ran could in effect turn the other cheek, I don’t know…

Earlier in the day we had visited two of the main crime scenes of the Khmer Rouge.  Firstly Cheung Ek, known as the Killing Fields, some 15km from the centre of Phnom Penh and then on to the torture prison called locally S-21.  We heard how Cheung Ek was just one of 387 similar sites found in Cambodia – SO FAR.  Three million innocent babies, children, women, men brutally wiped from the face of the earth.

We were fortunate to have an excellent local guide in Mr “Lucky”, whose family had also been affected by the Genocide.  He showed us the tree where babies skulls were crushed whilst their mother’s looked on. They were then raped and clubbed to death. We saw clothes from dead people on the ground, which Mr Lucky said “kept coming to the surface along with human bone every time it rained.”

Perhaps I should just let the photographs speak for themselves…

The memorial stupha housing thousands of skulls and bones

The Killing Fields Memorial, complete with thousands of human skulls was one thing.  But in some respects worse was to follow, when we drove back to Phnom Penn to visit Tuol Sleng/S-21, the torture house and prison where many victims found themselves before being transported by truck to the Killing Fields.  Sixteen thousand were housed there, tortured and murdered by “brain washed” guards who were typically aged between 15-21!  Yes, you read right, just 15 to 21.

Amazingly I met Mr Bou Meng, one of two S-21 inmates still alive today, two of seven survivors from over 20,000 victims.

A brave, brave man

Mr Meng lost his wife, but survived because he was a wonderful artist. In the book – Justice for the Future – Not Just for the Victims by Huy Vannak – Mr Meng is quoted as saying “I am a victim of Pol Pot and I was able to survive because of pictures of Pol Pot…”

I bought his book and show shots below of his torture that he subsequently painted.  But look closely at the photograph of Pol Pot.  This is NOT a photograph of a photograph, but Mr Meng’s pen and ink painting.  His great skill kept him alive….

Pol Pot

Today Cambodia is a country in transition, but speak to people off the record and they are highly critical of their “elected” Government. From my understanding the last election was far from free.

In closing this post may I leave you with a little bit more food for thought as you eat your beans on toast or spider with chips this evening.  Would you be happy if the man who was your current Prime Minister and who had been in power for over 25 years just happened to be a former Khmer Rouge Commander?

The future – in his hands!

MARK: Eighty six days in, exactly a third of our trip completed, it had to happen!

Yes, that awful feeling when you know you’ve just seconds to get to the loo before a mass “evacuation” takes place.

Sarah last night (Sunday) started to feel hot and shivery.  So for the first time since we left the UK, we decided to stay in and not go out for dinner.  Both of us were sound asleep by 7.00pm.

This morning it certainly wasn’t GOOD MORNING VIETNAM!  Sarah no better and worse was to come….. CENSORED all to do with the loo – the Imodium packet was quickly opened.

It had to happen sooner or later….

A twenty four hour bug?  Something she had eaten?  Just simply knackered? Neither of us are sure, but the thought of a day trip down to the Mekong Delta by bus involving four hours travelling and then two boats and no guarantee of a loo was enough for us to bail out of what would have been another fascinating trip…

So a good time for me to think and to write, whilst Mrs B sleeps and hopefully gets better.  I really do hope she feels OK tomorrow as we have a 7 hour PUBLIC bus journey over the border from Vietnam in to Cambodia.  But tomorrow is another day.

Get better soon!

I must admit, I thought we would have had to use the Imodium sooner, but am happy that we got this far.

Damn!  There it is again, that word, “happy”.

It’s a word that just keeps coming up on our travels.  I suppose I must blame Anne for making me think about happiness, after her interesting comment on the Cabbages and Condoms blog a few weeks ago.

https://masters20152016.com/2015/11/04/cabbages-and-condoms-its-all-about-the-feelings/#comments

Anne recommended a book she was reading at the time called 59 seconds – Think a little, Change a lot, by Richard Wiseman.  I have downloaded it whilst here in Vietnam and I have thoroughly enjoyed the read, particularly the early pages where Wiseman talks about how research shows that people who are the happiest are those that enjoy experiences rather than material goods.

And I suppose that is one of the key drivers of this 9 month voyage of discovery. It has always been a long held belief of mine that quick fix purchases rarely brings long term inner happiness.  Just ask a drug user snorting cocaine, a shopaholic buying another pair of shoes, when he/she already has 100 pairs or a quick sugar fix from a Mars Bar.  So why do I keep eating chocolate?

Looking back over the past week, glancing through some 900 photos I’ve taken, I have analysed what has made me happy.

First up, I wanted to say a few words about our wonderful guide Cham – Chamnan Chey.  Cham, 27, has lead us from Bangkok, through Laos, into Vietnam and will shortly take us overland to his homeland of Cambodia.  He is literally loved by all the children he meets, in what-ever country he visits.  His smiley cap and happy go-lucky personality, hides a lot of hardship in his early life.  As a young boy, he used to dig up with his friends unexploded bombs to sell them on to scrap dealers to make a few dollars for his family. He saw first-hand the terrible effects when things went wrong.  Before that, the three million countrymen who lost their lives in his country during the war.  The day to day struggle just to stay alive.  And yet he is happy.  He is happy with his lot and in the knowledge that in just over five weeks time he will be married.  A truly inspirational young man who has taught me much in the last 20 days.  And when I see him interact with children the way that he does, this has made me very happy.

“Same same – but different” Cham loves children – they love him*

Smile please

I never thought she would do it.  But she did!

I’m talking about Sarah abseiling three times in one day, culminating in a terrifying drop 220ft down into a black, dank limestone cave.  She had no idea what she was letting herself in for, but she had a go and conquered her fears.  I went first and was really glad to get to the bottom.  It was out of my comfort zone, but as it turned out, I was far more concerned about Sarah!  My heart started to race as she clearly lost her footing as she went over the edge.  But bit by bit she gained confidence and down she came.  Happiness is seeing your wife in one piece, despite the rope burn.

Light at the end

Slipping as she enters the cave…

Half way down the 220ft drop

Safely down…

…. burns to prove it

Vietnam, as Barry Sutlieff rightly said is a “beautiful country, with beautiful people”.  Just looking at the countryside as you pass by on a bus or train, you can’t fail to be happy.  And observing the locals as they go about their daily business also makes you realise you can be happy without very much.

Beauty all around

Still my fav’ shot

thoughtful and happy

A family breakfast

But the man that has made me begin to understand what happiness is all about is Mr Hai – or “Skinny Hi” as he is known – his name is Hai and he is tall and skinny and hence Skinny Hi.

A truly impressive man

Mr Hai was our guide on our visit to the infamous Cu Chi Tunnels – a massive network of inter-connecting tunnels, near Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon). The tunnels were the location of several military campaigns during the Vietnam War and were used by Viet Cong soldiers as hiding spots during combat, as well as serving as hospitals, food and weapon caches and living quarters for North Vietnamese fighters.

An Officer and translator for the Americans, Mr Hai fought with the South Vietnamese Army. He graphically described the missions he went on and brought tears to my eyes as he recounted two terrible events.

The first was where he was having a smoke with a fellow Vietnamese soldier on the banks of the Mekon.  One minute they were chatting, the next, his friend was dead, shot through the head by a sniper from the other side of the river.  The second horrific incident was about an American who he befriended called Mac.  They were on a combat mission deep in to enemy territory, chatting about Mac’s return home the following week to see his family, his Tour of Duty over.  He never made it.  Five minutes later, just 10 metres ahead of Mr Hai, he was shot and killed.  Mr Hai described how he closed Mac’s eyes and prayed for the dead man.

The Cu Chi Tunnels were akin to my visit to Auschwitz/Birkenau Concentration Camp in Poland. Death and destruction everywhere.  Giant craters where B52 bombs had fallen.  Gruesome man traps that killed and maimed.  And yet there were still far too many tourists that were happy to pay their $10 and go and fire an AK47.  The sound of gun-shots piercing the peace of the jungle.  Short memories some people – this a war memorial, not a theme park.

One of our group “J”, heads into the tunnel complex…. Sarah and I crawled underground for 100 metres in temperatures exceeding 40C

A booby trap – the spikes were covered in faeces

But through it all Mr Hai, showed remarkable peace and serenity.  He was not angry.  He was just happy to be alive.  Happy that he had children and grandchildren.  Happy to see the sunrise each morning.

So what is happiness?

That quest to understand still continues for me.  But if I learnt anything over the past 7 days, I guess it’s all about leaving the proverbial baggage behind in one’s life, recognising what you have, appreciating the simple things and helping others along the way.  Oh and celebrating when Middlesbrough get promoted – I did say WHEN.

Jumping for joy (my Mum) *

Thanks to Chris Denby for the two photographs*