The Pickup...

Once in Cambodia, our real adventure began. Rather than getting into a typical tour bus for our trip to Siem Reap, our group gathered our bags and crammed ourselves into a pick-up truck. Now we aren’t talking about a Dodge 250 Ram Charger or Hummer H2. No, this was a plain old Nissan pick-up truck. We watched stunned as some 20 Cambodians climbed into a similar vehicle and whiz off down the street. With such local expertise, 10 people (plus driver) and all our bags were an easy task. We were carefully arranged into the cab and bed of the pick-up truck. Diana, Hannah and Allison squeezed themselves into the cab of the truck while the rest of us perched on our luggage and hung on for dear life. We looked like a motley pile of bodies and bags. It was no wonder that all the people we saw along the way gave us inquisitive looks that said “crazy foreigners”.



We set off 150 km for Siem Reap. This was a four hour journey that included 70 km of dirt road. The good thing was that with the driver going at a consistent 45 km/h clip, only stopping for the really big potholes, we didn’t feel the oppressive heat. The bad thing was that after the first 10 km, our butts were so numb we couldn’t feel a thing through the remaining 140 km of the trip. Maybe that was a good thing… The jarring ride vibrated every part of our bodies and despite our attempts to maneuver ourselves onto the most comfortable piece of luggage, there simply was no “happy place”. Upon journey’s end, everyone in the bed of the truck was deadened of feeling and covered by the red ochre dust of Cambodian roads.

Despite the grueling ride, it was an amazing experience and one that I’ll never forget. I would highly recommend it to anyone with the stamina to endure rustic local travel and slight discomfort. Everywhere we looked we saw a vast countryside of rice paddies and poverty. We dodged cows, bicycles going to market, and motorbikes. We waved at delightful children playing in roadside ponds. Everywhere we saw friendly smiles and enthusiastic waves, even when they were bilking you for $1 (one dahlaaar). At one instance we had to take a detour around a broken bridge. As we meandered through a local road, we were stopped by a large piece of wood deliberately obstructing the road. It was placed there by some old people who would only remove it if you have them money (a donation, if you will). Now that was an example of capitalism at its finest!

My back paid dearly after this day, but I don’t think any other method of transport would have afforded us quite the same experience. Much of what we saw would be lost to anyone who simply flew the 1½ hours from Bangkok to Siem Reap. I was happy to finally wash the Cambodian dust from me and that night, I went to bed dreaming of soft pillows and feather beds…