Sunrise at Angkor Wat Temple |
The longest flight that I have taken so far was almost sixteen hours. Last
year, I flew nonstop from Manila to Toronto, and it was a dreadful experience. Don't get me wrong, the inflight services were top-notched, and the inflight entertainment system was up-to-date, but sitting for sixteen
straight hours can be challenging. I have exhausted all the possible things inside
the cabin to keep me preoccupied–I slept for six hours, watched The Greatest
Showman and Crazy Rich Asians twice, and had a skincare routine while everyone was asleep. In a nutshell, I survived, and I think I won't be doing it
again for a while. However, I just realized that this experience was nothing
compared to what I've gone through when I rode a bus from Saigon to Siem Reap
for eighteen hours!
September 2014
We returned to our hotel in Saigon the night before our scheduled trip. We
asked the front desk officer to reserve us one-way bus tickets to Siem Reap,
Cambodia. Moments after he heard us uttering the words 'Siem Reap,' he
panicked. But, just low-key panic.
"I'm sorry, but there are no seats available for tomorrow. I'll call another
agency if they still have available one-way bus tickets for Siem Reap.", he
said in pidgin English.
Our hearts skipped a beat. The only option remaining was to book a flight
to Siem Reap, but obviously, it'll require us to break the bank because
it's just way too expensive and way out of our budget. We waited for at least
three minutes, one of the longest three minutes of my life. Also, we couldn't
afford to ditch our Siem Reap leg because our return flight to Manila was from
that city. Either way, canceling our Siem Reap would mean buying a new one-way
ticket from Saigon to Manila, and it's also expensive. There's no other way
but to proceed with that trip. The front desk officer went back with a piece
of good news. Thank God there are still a few seats left.
"You are all lucky because we still have seats for you. Tomorrow is a national
holiday in Cambodia, and many people are coming home.", he chimed. We went
back to our rooms with a big smile on our faces. We packed our things and
slept early that night because we had to leave Saigon around 6:30. Luck was on our side, or so we thought.
We woke up early. It was a struggle to be up in the wee hours of the morning,
but I had no choice. I forced myself to move and not be a spoiled brat to
my friends. Anyway, I could always catch up with my sleep during the trip. We checked out the hotel and walked at least a block to our rendezvous point.
You have to be brave enough to cross the streets when in Saigon. At
six-thirty in the morning, it was almost gridlock. A swarm of motorcycles
choked the main street of Saigon, with street vendors expertly weaving through
the traffic. Just right in the chaotic sea was our bus bound for
Siem Reap. We immediately boarded the bus and found our seats. Handmade
curtains haphazardly decorated the interiors of the bus as if it was a gift
from your aunt. Just as we were preparing to leave, a slim, tall guy wearing
neatly pressed long sleeves started to give us briefing instructions about the
safety procedures, much like what we always see inside the aircraft before
departure. He delivered it in English, albeit with his heavy local
accent, and Vietnamese.
The trip will take at least 12 hours, with a stopover at Phnom Penh, the
capital city of Cambodia. The landscape quickly changed as we traveled toward Vietnam and Cambodia. It became a narrow two-lane highway from a 6-lane road surrounded by tall
skyscrapers. The bus attendant then
collected our passports, and we stayed at one corner of the border control and
waited for our turn. The immigration procedures were fast, and we were back on
our bus. We had a brief stopover 30 minutes after traveling from the border.
We crossed several bridges, brown and muddy rivers, and towns and cities. I caught up with my sleep while listening to my travel playlist.
At around noon, my friend woke me up because we were nearing the central bus
station of Phnom Penh. According to the bus attendant, everyone has to
disembark the bus at Phnom Penh and wait for another Siem Reap. I
don't see the point of doing it, but we just obeyed.
This is the Mekong River. |
View from the bus terminal. |
The central bus station of Phnom Penh was a complete mess–it was a seething
mass of humanity. Everyone from different walks of life was shoulder to
shoulder, in each other's faces, and had no personal space. But this is how
things work here, and we don't have the right to complain. I walked around
looking for some food but ate at a convenience store. It was a hot
and humid day, and while waiting at a dilapidated bench, I watched the locals
do their everyday life. With a whine and air displacement, the bus bound
for Siem Reap had finally arrived. It was completely different from what we
rode earlier–it was smaller, less comfortable, but the bus's air-conditioning system was at least the only
consolation. We left Phnom Penh at around two in the afternoon.
We were traversing the vast rice fields through a narrow 2-lane national
highway. The seats and windows shook as we drove over the small bumps of the main thoroughfare. However, I noticed that we were slowing down. I peered from the window, and nothing was ahead or behind us. I closed it back and heightened my senses. Then, it started to feel warmer. Right now,
I knew we were doomed, but I stayed optimistic. It became hotter and hotter as the minutes passed, and the bus started to go slower. It didn't take a while before the bus completely halted in the middle of the Cambodian nowhere. Everyone was clueless. I didn't know what to do. I can't even check
Google Maps because the mobile signal was nearly non-existent. We opened the window to get some fresh air. At 3 in the afternoon, the sun was still high,
and beads of sweat trickled down my forehead. Most of us went outside and found a quick respite on the other side of the bus. We opened the luggage compartment and got our bags. I gritted my teeth in annoyance and frustration
because no one from the bus company could even talk in English to explain our situation.
Removing all of our luggage |
We agonizingly waited for another hour before our rescue bus came. So, we
loaded our luggage again into the compartment, went inside, and found our
preferred seats. While I cannot adjust the aircon because it's broken, the
cold air was a brief comfort from the scorching heat from the outside.
The sun was quickly setting. The sky turned pink, and
we were driving on an unpaved highway. The dust was reddish-brown, all thanks
to the clay soil. The countryside passes like a bad movie I've seen too many
times before. I can't think how long I've been on this bus. We left the
monotony of the highway behind a long time ago, and now the heat and the bumps
of these unmade roads are lulling me into an uneasy sleep. We had a brief stop
for a bathroom break. I decided to eat a rice porridge similar
to the Philippines' goto. I ate quickly and drank lots of cold coke zero
before we continued our journey.
Dusk quickly settled, and soon after, darkness prevailed as we drove the long
stretch of Cambodia's uneven highway. Just hours before, the paths illuminated by the yellow orb become lost in a blackness that even moonlight
cannot help. The trip seemed forbidding as we passed the dimly lit towns
and streets. Suddenly, it rained. The dark sky was menacing as it showed off
its light show, lighting our surroundings momentarily. Softly splashing
water droplets hit the bus window as we drive onwards. I watched these
raindrops race down to the windows. Minutes later, we were shivering. I couldn't
even put on my jacket because everything was inside my backpack in the
luggage compartment. I was only wearing my flip-flops, a shirt, and shorts. I
tried to find a warm spot on my seat but to no avail. I just closed my eyes
and silently prayed that this ordeal would end.
The thunderstorm had finally passed, yet it was as cold as ice inside the bus.
The journey went on like this for the next three hours. We traveled more than 16 hours, and it seemed it wouldn't end soon. I felt
thirsty and needed to go to the bathroom. My stomach was grumbling, but I had
nothing to eat. I felt cold and helpless. I tried my best to absorb myself in
music. Others drifted into a deep slumber.
It was almost midnight when the bus started to slow down. I woke up with the
glaring lights from the outside. Everyone was finally awake. Their eyes were
bleary, reactions were slow, and tiredness ran in their veins just like their blood. As we trundled towards the station, a group of tuk-tuk
drivers flocked the bus's front door. My friend and I were exhausted from a bus trip we thought would last for eternity. As we gathered our
luggage, a young, gaunt man wearing red plaid long sleeves approached us and
offered a ride to our hotel at a reasonable price.
It took us only 25 minutes to reach our hotel. The warm, humid
air of Siem Reap was a quick respite from what we'd been through over the
last several hours. All was quiet except for the occasional cars passing by and the jeers of drunk tourists. To break the monotony, our driver introduced
himself to us. His name is Tiger, and he's been driving the tuk-tuk for years.
"Where are you from?" he asked.
"We are from the Philippines.", I sheepishly answered.
"What is 'I love you' in Tagalog?"
"Mahal kita.", my friend said.
"Ma-haaaal keeeta!" Tiger said with enthusiasm.
"How about it's so nice to meet you?"
There was a long pause.
"Ikinagagalak kitang makilala", my companion said.
"Ikigaga...ahhh! So difficult!"
We finally arrived at our hotel at half-past midnight and accepted Tiger's
offer to tour us around the Angkor Wat Temple complex for only $20. We were
blessed to have someone like him. After our late check-in and settling our
things, we immediately dozed off.
Dawn is breaking. |
It is the wanderlust that always consumes us. We crave new adventures, meander the unknown, and create new paths. A trailblazer, they say. But, as
we encounter speedbumps along the way, we often fail to realize the true
essence of traveling. It was never about what we see on social media,
but it will always be about making you realize how blessed you are. Only some have the privilege of seeing the world. It was supposed to be a mundane
12-hr land trip that became a harrowing but life-changing 18-hr trip.
The
roads don't care about the terrain, and I must deal with it. Whatever
comes, I have to keep moving forward. I have to get
up because there's no other way when I get knocked down. I have to keep going until I get to the end
of the line, even if the journey makes me bleed. Sometimes, I just want to
stay put, lie on the ground, and feel the cold. And then, I remember why I
started this journey. Traveling will never promise to give us the utmost
comfort we desire, but there are plenty of reasons to kindle our souls and
bring out the best smiles we can provide that we once thought belonged to
the stars.
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