December 5, 2023
Bikes on the roof
Chau Doc to Phnom Penh
Dear little friends,
Anxious me set the alarm for five am, but somehow didn’t hear the chime, just saw this weird orange light from the phone alarm. I guess I had turned the sound down during one of my middle-of-the-night wakeful periods when I was watching cat videos or something. I am a weird sleeper, maybe from when I lived in caves and had to get up on occasion to check for sabertooth tigers. If there had been cat videos then I could have just watched for them from bed but I sure would like to ditch my nighttime genetics and just sleep all night long like normal people.
I sprang out of bed like the tiger had snuck in. We had a 7 am boat to catch and our guesthouse was a little ways from the boat landing so we were going to leave by 6. We were all business, packing up, braiding hair, brushing teeth, cleaning up the tiny bit of oil on the floor where my rear hub is leaking. Yes. I have a leaking hub. Where in this part of the world I’ll find somebody to look at my leaking Shimano Alfine 11 hub is a great question. We’re all in suspense on that one.
Every morning we leave our air conditioned bubble and walk straight into a wall of humidity. Even if it’s 76 degrees outside it still feels like walking into a wet piece of carpeting. This morning was no different. Once you’re on the bike things feel a lot better with that moving air to give an illusion of coolness. We rolled up to the Victoria hotel and on up through the lobby and down to the boat launch area. I was sweating again. I probably don’t really need to even point that out, just assume that anytime I’m outside I’m sweating.
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We wanted to be there early so we could properly supervise the bike placements in the boat. We wanted them inside at the back and maybe if the boat hadn’t sold out this voyage they would have agreed to that but no, it was a full boat, they’re going on the roof. The captain cushioned them with life jackets (please, bike, don’t leak oil onto the life jacket!!!) and secured them with ropes. Bruce climbed up and moved the rope off of his rotor. Then a claque of tourists arrived with their rolling suitcases and it was all aboard.
I like boat rides. This one covered a big section of the Mekong that we have not previously traversed/ridden next to. There would be two immigration stops, one on the Vietnam side, the other in Cambodia. Then three hours to Phnom Penh.
All went according to plan. The boat was packed, we hadn’t seen this many westerners since Saigon. After a choppy start the boat picked up speed and we sailed north up the river and we hoped for the best for our bikes. There was a lot to look at, boats fishing and boats hauling things and boats dredging sand from the bottom of the Mekong. All boats have eyes in the front, white circles on a black background. All of them. When we passed boats closely enough there was always somebody looking at our boat from their boat and I made it a point to wave and usually got a wave back. Bruce, meanwhile, went to the back of the boat where it is more open and took a lot of photos.
He came back to sit down and was pretty upset with all the sand dredging, and explained to me why. They rob the river bottom of sand that has been laid down for millenia, sand that holds nutrients and helps stabilize the already endangered Mekong ecosystem. That this fine, delicate sand is shipped as far away as the United States to be used in fracking oil extraction is a crime against the river and a crime against the planet. It really cast a pall over our boat ride. As we got closer to Cambodia the dredging got more intense, as if they had to get as far north as possible before Cambodia forbade the practice. I’m probably kidding myself on that one because Cambodia never refuses a chance to exploit resources for the Chinese or Cambodian corrupt officials, if the dredging tapered off after the border it was probably just indifference. FOR NOW.
Anyway, at the beginning of the ride our boat conductor person went down the rows collecting passports, checking that our Vietnam visas were inside, and collecting the Cambodia visa fee of $35 or 900,000 VND. What a good way to get rid of some of our excess dong! That’s what we gave him. He had a big bag of passports and cash, and for once I didn’t really feel skeeved about that, there were two guys aboard besides the driver, one Vietnamese and one Cambodian and I trusted them. That is not typical for me whenever border crossings are involved, ESPECIALLY in or out of Cambodia.
The boat pulled up to a dock, we all had to pile out and wait about an hour for everybody to get stamped out. We were in a room full of tables and chairs, with refreshments for sale and a rack of “tourist clothing” for sale, think rayon loose elephant pants and tie-dye shirts, that sort of dreck. There were two toilet rooms. It was hot, but there were fans. And a lady changing money. We still had a peck of dong left that would be hard to get rid of, and her exchange rate was reasonable, so Bruce changed it to Cambodian riel.
In Cambodia, there are two official currencies. The US dollar and the riel. $1USD = 4000 riel, more or less. You have to be quick with math (which I’m not) because they ask for dollars but give change in riel, that come in all sorts of colors and sizes with Khmer number characters and down in one corner the number in our numbers but it’s really hard to read. I’m pretty hopeless at that, and mostly go on trust that the change will be somewhat in the ballpark.
After our long hot wait, we piled back on the boat, and in a few minutes were in Cambodia and got off again. This time we went up a steep ramp and into an absolutely beautiful temple grounds, with shady trees and flowers and benches to sit on and wait while more stamping happened. The boat guys would appear from time to time with 3 or 4 completed passports, then those people went into an office and got fingerprinted and/or photographed. That took a long time. We visited with some young people in a tour group, Canadians and Americans, that was fun. We hadn’t talked with North Americans since we left San Francisco.
Amy from LA laughed when we told her we were traveling by bicycle. She had never heard of such a thing. Bruce told her we were going to put that in the journal, so, Amy, if you’re out there reading this, laughing was the proper response! It is definitely an odd little hobby.
Sitting in the shade, I looked over at the road next to the temple. Yes, a few motorbikes went by, but they weren’t honking! Birds were singing. My shoulders relaxed, my heartbeat slowed, I’m guessing my blood pressure went downward. We were in Cambodia. It’s a quieter, slower country than Vietnam and I was there for it.
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The North Americans were, interestingly enough, the last to get our passports and go into the office. Cambodia has some history with us and I’m not going to begrudge them any sort of animosity they may feel towards Yanks. Kissinger just died and if there is any sort of justice in the afterlife maybe he is getting his due, but for us now being at the back of the line is nothing at all. More time in the temple grounds.
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The rest of the ride on that very wide river was uneventful. I may have napped briefly. After awhile Phnom Penh’s big buildings came into view. None of them existed in 2008, the last time we were there. We knew it’s a big city and there would be mad traffic so the peaceful Cambodia was going to have to wait a few days. The boat pulled up, the passengers piled out and stood RIGHT THERE for their luggage so it was hard to get our bikes loaded until they had rolled up the ramps and on to their various pursuits. Then the boat was filled again with people going to Chau Doc and it burned rubber, uh, water, and were outta there. It was just us and our bikes and our panniers on a scorching hot metal dock.
Up two short and very steep ramps, then another really long ramp that at least had some steps on the side so we could push the bikes without hazard. Up at the top we caught our breath, pulled ourselves together, and rode in Phnom Penh.
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Yes, it was busy. Yes, there were motorbikes doing crazy things. But, NO honking. Somewhat reasonable. It was a cakewalk, really, after Saigon and each and every mid-sized town we went through in Vietnam. Our hotel put the bikes into a safe little room on the ground floor, we dove into showers and cooled off. And then we went out for the most non-Vietnamese food place we could find, an Ethiopian restaurant! Injera never tasted so good. We even got a beer apiece, which explains why I went to bed at 7 pm.
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11 months ago
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We had a great time in Vietnam, we really did. But we’re pretty excited to be in Cambodia again. More of this to come.
Today's ride: 2 miles (3 km)
Total: 186 miles (299 km)
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| Comment on this entry | Comment | 7 |
11 months ago
11 months ago
On a completely different note, taking a boat, with our bikes on the roof, along the Mekong is on our dream list! Hopefully Cambodia is still a few levels quieter than the ever vibrant , but hectic, Vietnam.
Pedal on.
11 months ago
11 months ago
11 months ago
FYI from an Bing search…According to a source, Shimano Alfine 11 speed hubs are known to seep oil out of the main seal. It is considered normal and can be wiped off periodically. If the seal is over-torqued, it will deform and leak. Another source suggests that the issue can be solved by changing the lubrication from oil to grease.
Enjoying your journal!
Dave
11 months ago
11 months ago