We awoke early, but still ended up rushing around to get the bus at 8：40 because our breakfast took 20 minutes to arrive. By 8:45 we were all in reception eagerly awaiting the bus to take us to Sihanouk ville along with an English guy called Marcus and two Brazilians who had also stayed at our hostel.

We waited as 9:00am came and went then started to get worried. The hostel guy called the bus company assuring us it would be along shortly, finally around 9:20am the bus ambled down the road and we all piled in. I grabbed the front seats knowing I was in for a long journey and spotting the extra leg room.

The bus drove a couple of hundred yards and stopped to pick up an Irish couple, Harry and Rebecca, and their Cambodian friend, Sarim, before we finally got on our way.

Just as we drove out of Koh Kong we pulled into a garage. All around people were fixing and washing cars. I wondered why we were there because there weren’t any petrol pumps and I hoped there wasn’t a problem with the mini bus already.

I watched out the window as a young boy came and put a stool beside the van. On top of the stool he placed a massive jerry can type thing and unscrewed the lid putting a tube in the top. It was clear they were refuelling the car although in a way I’d never seen done in a filling station before. As the tube was inserted the other end was put in the tank of the car and they covered the top of the jerry can pressing on it to create suction and the petrol flowed into the tank.

The guide book had said the bus would take between five and 11 hours because many of the roads weren’t complete and the journey included four ferry crossing because the bridges across the river weren’t finished. For this reason we had intended to catch the much quicker ferry, despite the guidebook saying this could be a scary experience as the boats used were designed for river rather then sea travel. However it is the rainy season and the seas were rough so the ferry wasn’t running leaving us no option but the bus.

After about an hour on the bus we turned off the road and began making our way down a very bumpy muddy dirt track to the first ferry port. We were all instructed to get off the bus and board the clapped out looking ferry on foot. As I walked onto the ferry I could see big holes where the metal work had rusted away. There were no rails or anything to keep you on the seats and in places it would have been possible to slip off the ferry into the water with absolutely nothing to stop you. The ferry crossing was quick just a short hop across the river so at least if we had sank it wouldn’t have been too far to swim to shore.

After another hour or so on the bus we came to the second ferry crossing. This time there was a much bigger queue and we waited in the blazing sun for half and hour while the ferry made two trips across the river before it was our turn. As the bus attempted to reverse up the ramp onto the ferry it was too low and the wood used to make the ramp smoother flicked up and somehow caught underneath the front bumper. The driver couldn’t see what was happening and continued backwards as the wood split and cracked against the bumper. It was amazing the bumper itself didn’t give way but the bus made it onto the ferry unscathed.

At the third ferry crossing things got a even more interesting. This time the dirt track leading to the ferry was a lot wetter and as we waited our turn the driver got stuck in the mud. Luckily he managed to get us free and after lots of wheel spinning and flying mud we boarded the ferry still sat in the mini bus so as not to loose our shoes in the ankle deep mud!

Getting off the ferry however wasn’t as easy. The van was too low for the steep river bank and as the bumper hit the floor the driver ordered us all out to wait on the bank. Most of us managed to pick our way through the mud without getting too dirty, Emily however wasn’t so lucky as she submerged her whole foot in the orange clay like mud.

After the third ferry cross we were nearing civilisation. I hadn’t seen a house or village since leaving Koh Kong but now were were driving through lush green scenery and stilt houses. Cambodia is a poor country but many of the houses were much better maintained than those we saw in the Philippines. Some of the houses on the side of the road were nicely painted in bright colours and just looked a lot nicer than some of the Filipino houses we’d seen.

You’d think more civilization would men better ferry’s but the fourth and last ferry was the worst of all. As we pulled up to it I actually though the ferry was the ramp. All I could see was some badly put together planks of wood forming what looked like a ramp over the water. I was alarmed when the mini bus driver drove up the ramp and kept going. It was then I realised the mass of badly constructed wood was in fact the ferry. I got out the van and realised the ferry was little more than three sideways boats joined together with planks of wood. Hopefully the picture below will do it more justice than my description.

Once we’d completed the forth ferry crossing the roads improved and it was an easy drive the rest of the way into Sihanouk ville.

Six hours, four ferry crossing and some very bumpy roads later we pulled into the bus station in Sihanoukville. As everyone got out of the bus discussing where they were going and who could share with whom we were immediately swarmed on by taxi drivers. Some held signs saying car taxi – this was because the main form of taxi in Cambodia is the back of a motorbike – but there was no way I was getting on one of them with my backpack on my back.

The rest of the people on the bus were going to Serendipity beach. We’d intended to go to Weather station hill because this is where the guide told us the cheapest accommodation is. However for the sake of ease and to be closer to the beach we decided to get a minibus with the rest of the guys to Serendipity beach.

Sarim went and found a minibus and negotiated a fare with him to take us all to the beach. But as soon as he tried to pick us up the moto drivers became very angry, shouting and blockading his van with their bikes saying he was tyring to take business away from them. Which he kind of was but none of us intended to get on a bike anyway.

As the situation escalated we all walked away carrying our bags and flagged a mini bus down on the other side of the road. The bus dropped us off at the beginning of the road to the beach and we began walking. Sarim, having less baggage than the rest of us, called into each place as we went asking prices. After walking for about 20 minutes we came across a place called GST. It was $5 a night for a room which, was clean and spacious and although we have two queen size beds between three it was fine.

Everyone decided to stay in the same place and once we’d all freshened up we met in the restaurant for some well needed food and a drink before taking a stroll along the beach at sunset and sitting in one of the beach bars for a few hours sipping bear and enjoying each others company.

The following day (today) they all left for Kampot because they were on much tighter travelling schedules than us. It’s rained and been overcast all day so we spent much of the day blogging, went and had a look at Weather Station Hill and realised it was a good thing we didn’t stay there because it was dead, then walked briefly around the hot, stuff very grubby main market.

* Posted by j150vsc on 14/07/2007.