Monthly Archives: April 2019

Kep, the ‘blue crab’ gem at the Cambodian coast

27th September – 1st October 2018

After almost four weeks on the road, we’re gasping for a bit of beach therapy.  We haven’t seen the sea since dipping our toes into the South China Sea in Hoi An; it seems a lifetime ago having crammed every bit of every day with abundant excitement and thrilling new experiences.  Bus journeys, motorbike and tuk-tuk rides as well as a fair amount of hiking and cycling have left us in need of a well-deserved rest.  We are on holiday after all.

‘Don’t bother with Sihanoukville,’ a friend in the know advises us. ‘If you want the beach, go to Kep instead.  Stay at The Beach House, awesome location overlooking a sumptuous stretch of sand and sea.’   She lived in Cambodia for a couple of years and is better acquainted with the country and places worth a visit.  Kep hadn’t been on our agenda, but with no fixed itinerary, and accommodation booked last minute and on a whim, flexibility forges our path through Cambodia…

Kep is a mere 30km from Kampot so we get a tuk-tuk across.  Probably just as comfortable as a bus journey as long as we wear our dust masks en-route…  I have to be honest, it probably is the first time I have bothered with one preferring to put up with the air impurities rather than being suffocated by the heat.

And indeed, as my friend intimated, Kep is definitely the place to be.  Less overrun by tourists than Kampot, but clearly still on the ex-pat map, it has a lot to offer.  From the vibrant crab market along the seafront to a trip with the locals to Rabbit Island, from hiking and biking in the National Park to peddling the cycling routes along the coast.  And of course, watching the locals enjoy a day at the beach.  A lot to sample in just a couple of days.

We never make it to the Crab market early enough to watch the fishing boats pull in; only very early risers have that privilege.   By the time we arrive, the market is busy and bustling and we watch on as locals bargain and barter to get the best price for Kep’s highly prized blue crabs, their distinctive electric-blue legs and claws twisting and writhing inside the large bamboo baskets.  Just over the wall, several bamboo baskets bob in the sea, storing more crabs in the coolness of the water until they are sold.   We return to the market in the evening as the sun casts its last shadow over the water and, still, fishermen and women are milling around, eager to find buyers for the last few crabs in their baskets. 

We actually don’t get to sample Kep’s delicious crab until we venture to Koh Tunsay (Rabbit Island), an idyllic paradise just a few miles off the Cambodian coast. The island is best accessed by small local boats which not only ferry tourists and locals to the island, but also much needed provisions to feed those visitors.. With mainly palm trees as vegetation and very little else in the way of edible produce, the island relies on the daily deliveries of food, coconuts, more coconuts and probably crabs as well…

Whereas Liz and I spend the day exploring the nooks and crannies of the island,

splashing in the refreshing waves, lazing about in hammocks and engaging in other touristy antics,

locals have other priorities. For several hours I watch a woman trudging the length of the beach in search of cockles, a hard day’s work for a pitiful heap barely covering the bottom of her red bag.

Before heading back to the mainland, we gorge ourselves on a sumptuous lunch of succulent crab, although not the ‘Crab and Kampot Pepper’ version Kep is famous for. A pity, but at the hotel we have already indulged in a finger-licking awesome ‘White fish and Pepper’ dish and the delectable pop-in-the-mouth green peppercorns are simply to die for…

Crab and Kampot Pepper, a la Kep…
https://cambodiatourism.co/trip-planner/kampot-pepper-crab.html

Of course, tourists are not the only ones making the most of the being near the seaside and at the weekend Cambodians take full advantage. Only, they seem to do it quite differently from Westerners. No crowded beaches here! We watch on as early in the morning hammocks, colourful umbrellas and jazzy mats start cluttering the pavement. Slowly people start filing in and by lunchtime, every little space is crammed with men, women and children tucking into picnics or taking a nap. Even the hammock shelters on the opposite side of the road are heaving whilst at least some daring souls are braving the sun to get to the coolness of the sea. But the beach remains largely deserted… The party mood lingers until later in the evening when dark falls and more food is shared among families and friends. Not a single local is going home with sunburn here..

Not much of a beach bum myself, I look for distraction on the hillsides. Liz and I take an early morning hike into the National Park, which is just a short distance from our hotel. Somehow we struggle to find the official park entrance and we may have added a few unintended miles to our journey, but thankfully a couple of French tourists who set out much earlier than us kindly point us in the right direction… After stopping off at a pagoda on the way, we meander along an easy path. By then the weather has hotted up quite a bit and we only manage a short hike, barely scratching the surface of what the Park has to offer. Definitely worth another visit, if I make it to Kep again sometime in the future..

On our last day in Kep, we rent some bicycles to venture a little further along the coast. It’s a hot and sweaty trip but interesting to get a glimpse of the lives of local fishermen and their families. The track is pretty isolated as most people are sheltering from the late morning heat . Fishermen have long since returned with their morning haul and only children are out and about enjoying a little fishing or a dip in the murky water surrounding their homes.

Kep definitely deserves to be on the tourist map, but then again, it’s attraction for me is the absence of tourists… and the little French bakery in the centre of town, a reminder of Kep’s colonial past as a thriving resort for the French and Cambodian elite until the early 1970s. Not only does the bakery offer the finest Arabica coffee in town – a must for Liz – but it is a magnet for foreigners missing a bit of home: croissants, pain aux chocolat or pain aux raisin, bread that looks and taste like bread…  And of course conversation.  Few of the foreigners we meet here are tourists. In actual fact, most seem pretty settled in local life or are engaged in voluntary work, such as the French twenty-something engineer who is involved in the construction of a youth centre.  ‘At the youth centre, local youth leaders provide counselling and activities for Cambodian teenagers,’ he explains. ‘The widespread killing of teachers and intellectuals during the Khmer Rouge regime war has left a whole generation without educators and positive role models.’  As everywhere in Cambodia, spectres of the genocide still lurk in every corner…

And then there are the sunsets… From the hotel balcony overlooking this stretch of the Gulf of Thailand, to cycling or hiking along the beach towards the Crab Market, the views are breathtaking. Certainly some of the most impressive ones I have seen on my travels so far…

Modern colonialism: the case of Bokor Mountain in Kampot

25th September 2018

‘A visit to Bokor Mountain is a must,’ our guesthouse host in Kampot explains.  ‘Mind you, since the Chinese leased the mountain, a lot has changed.  You better go now before it’s too late and nothing is left.  They have already spoilt Sihanoukville…’ 

They are eyed with suspicion, distrust even.  Just like in Vietnam, the Chinese are not welcomed by the locals in Cambodia.  Under the surface, sentiments run high, trampled into silence and acquiescence as the locals feel powerless to turn the tide.  They watch on as more and more of their country is sold out to Chinese and foreign companies whilst the grease of corruption only touches the greedy hands of the ‘establishment’.  Here, progress doesn’t touch the lives of ordinary citizens.  Welcome to 21st century communism.  Welcome to modern colonialism.

Liz and I visit Bokor Mountain riding pillion, safely seated on the back of motorbikes; we haven’t taken to renting them for ourselves… yet…  It’s quicker than cycling or a hike up I suppose and, at a distance of around 37 km from the centre of Kampot, it may be a little too far to cover in a daytrip.  With a motorbike, it is easy to take in all the sights in a matter of a few hours. 

It doesn’t take long to see how a splash of foreign investment has put its mark on Bokor Mountain.  We leave Kampot on dirt roads but as soon as we reach the National Park, beautiful tarmac greets us, courtesy of the developers who need good access to set their plans for the National Park into motion.  On the upside, it also makes for a comfortable journey to the top of the mountain, a trip that in the past would have taken almost an hour and a half by jeep or 4×4 on a bumpy, muddy track…

Bokor Mountain overlooks Kampot from the other side of the river.  The impressive mound – its peak often clad in opaque fog and prone to more rain than the lower lying regions – used to be covered in dense jungle and home to an abundance of wildlife.  Tales of roaming lions, tigers and elephants may well have been exaggerated, but the trees are a habitat for giant birds, parrots, wild monkeys and some of the smaller cats.  Not that we see any of those either on our trip, apart from the inquisitive and bold monkeys maybe.  They are always on the lookout for opportunities to loot unsuspecting tourists. Loss of habitat doesn’t mean they are on the brink of starvation.

Bokor Mountain National Park is under construction, Chinese style.  Vast swathes of prime forest have been devastated by logging.  Bulldozers and other machinery have flattened land ready for construction and development.  Not that anyone in town knows what the long-term future holds for Bokor Mountain; it’s all kept under wraps. My guide, who speaks reasonable English, is not exactly shy about voicing his disquiet.  ‘Before, locals used to come to the mountain to collect fire wood,’ he elaborates, ‘but now this is no longer possible.   Maybe they [the Chinese] are really exploring for valuable minerals, who knows…’   Although small-scale, illegal logging by locals and poachers has been happening for years, it is the magnitude of the current devastation by the new owners that is causing grave concern.  The rainforest has no time to regenerate; what is lost is lost forever.

We soon hit our first tourist attraction, a gigantic statue of the Lok Yeay Mao Buddha, the lady Buddha protector of the hunters and travellers and a divinity revered in Cambodian Buddhism, especially in the coastal areas of Kampot and Kep.  The statue was inaugurated in 2012 by the new lease-holding company and part of a 15-year development plan of Bokor National Park.  But the statue feels at odds with its surroundings and history; it’s ostentatious, if not grotesque and does not sit well with the more modest and simple Cambodian way of life…

‘Far more interesting are the collection of dilapidated buildings across the road from the statue,’ my guide explains.  And indeed, nestled between the encroaching jungle stand the remnants of the Black Palace and other royal entourage buildings, built in 1936 as the residence of King Sihanouk.  Clearly restoration of those historical keepsakes is not part of the grand plan for a bright future for Bokor Mountain National Park.  Still, being reclaimed by nature and graffiti artists makes the ruins so much more fascinating and eye-catching.  A tangible legacy from a not too distant but more affluent past. Easy to see why royalty picked out this site: the view from the clifftop overlooking the bay is simply spectacular, although veiled by a wisp of cloud when we are there.

Bokor Hill Station, originally built by the French in the 1920s at the top of the mountain, was a luxurious retreat for colonial residents offering respite from the summer heat and stuffiness of Phnom Penh.  The hotel and casino have long since fallen in disrepair; its haunting skeleton a tourist attraction and used as a location for ghost movies.  As the clouds are drawing in and the light drizzle is becoming more persistent, we don’t stop at the old hotel and only take photographs of the entrance. 

But we pass the newer version of the hotel though: grandiose and overbearing, recently built by the new owners as part of the redevelopment.  The casino and hotel are already functional: taking in predominantly Chinese guests looked after by Chinese staff with none of the proceeds benefiting the local community.  Bokor Mountain, a little Chinese enclave… No wonder there is resentment.

But it is the Wat Sampov Pram, or ‘five-rocks-pagoda’ at the top of the hill that really catches my eye.  The jumble of pagodas, temples and statues breathes mystic tranquility and peace.  Although the legend linked to the pagoda spins a yarn of ancient love and sailing boats, the pagoda was actually only built in 1924.  Whilst the French administration claimed the mountain for their own pleasures, the King added the pagoda complex in keeping with the country’s Buddhist tradition.  

But even this sacred place has not escaped the attention of the new guardians of Bokor Mountain.  Just opposite the stairs leading to the main pagoda, a newer building has arisen, this time more in character with the architectural style of the surrounding structures. 

The real eyesore however can be seen through the gate to the pagoda, a modern block of apartments housing the Chinese mainland workers brought to Kampot to help in the construction and development.  And as our guide points out, ‘They don’t even have to go into town for their shopping.  All food is imported and made available on the premises here…’

On our way down, we stop at the old, disused French Catholic Church.  The building crumbling and its windows gaping, graffiti has sprouted on its walls whilst church paraphernalia still rest on the alter.  Still an interesting place to visit, though, if only to witness the contrast in the landscape:  on the one side a valley thick with rainforest, the other side blemished by the tide of progress…

We finish our visit to Bokor Mountain National Park with a trip to the Popokvil waterfall.  We get our entry tickets in a cavernous building, hollow for its space and nothing to fill it.  Chairs and tables stretch inside what must be an enormous dining hall, only it is empty, another soulless addition.  Luckily, the waterfall itself doesn’t disappoint.  Recent rainfall has ensured a healthy flow of water and it’s fun to dip our toes in to cool down… 

Bokor Mountain is in flux and Kampot town is watching on, nervous about the outcome.  No one in this town wants Kampot to become the next Sihanoukville which turned from a backpackers and beach lovers haven into a gambling addicts paradise, a playground for the cash-rich Chinese middle class. Deprived of gambling opportunities in their own country, they are taking full advantage and flock to Sihanoukville to spend their money in Chinese-owned and Chinese-backed hotels and casinos.   They buy up the properties, pricing locals out of the housing market and livelihoods…

It is a delicate balance.  Cambodia is a country in need of money for development, but at what price…