Bus Rides and Taxis (Siem Reap)

Siem Reap, eh? This is the town where everyone who comes to Cambodia comes here. It's the gateway town to Angkor Wat and it's a dust bowl. Most locals have taken to wearing a surgical face mask. it's a weird thing to see, all these guys driving rickshaws and motorbikes are wearing them. They look like they've escaped from a horror movie. Though i haven't seen much of the town yet.

But I love Asia, there's no other place like it. You can do anything. Say anything. Drink anything. Buy anything. And on the bus they play karaoke music the whole time. Most of the time this music sucks.

But i tell you, if i could read Cambodian it'd be the best. For six hours while no one sung, we listened to that machine and i dreamed of fulfilling my dreams of not only being a cabaret singer but doing it while travelling. I tell you, me and Sandy up there, on that aisle doing our duets, we could've rocked it rocked the bus in a whole new style. Though it would've been loads better if the music was in English because while i might sound like a cultural fool, i think Cambodian pop sucks! They're got lovely countryside though.

So as the bus is pulling into our final stop at Siem Reap, hundreds of young lads as running along side of the bus as we slowed. Dust is everywhere. Surgical masked teenagers are slapping our windows waving at us. Friendly, you might think. It might almost be an Indiana Jones scene, except these guys are worse than those crazy Indians that chased Harrison Ford down to the river with their blow guns and spears. These guys are taxi drivers, moto drivers, rickshaw drivers, and whatever you wanna call them, they're calling for you.

So stepping down the steps of the bus there's hundreds of these lads, yelling for attention. They're all holding up signs and screaming, their signs read ''the best guesthouse,'' ''The greatest guesthouse,'' or ''The most superlative guesthouse.'' and They're screaming, 'Hey! Come my Guesthouse!" or "Hey, Mr free ride for you!'' all while they're trying smile, because they don't wanna appear rude, and shoving and pushing each other to get to the front row. Its like stepping down into flock of giant turkeys, all squabbling and hungry. They want your money.

I feel like a rock star!

They're pulling and grabbing. I'm lucky because I've got a loud booming voice. "Get out of my way!'' i yell

The westerner has spoken.

They stop. Look.

For a second.

Then they're pulling and grabbing. ''Where you go mister?' Come my guesthouse. cheap Cheap. good Deal. You smoke? We went to a place Mook knew and its tops. Tomorrow we'll go see Angkor Wat.