I cannot believe it’s
happened. But alas, it has. And I can’t explain it, I can only shamefully, with
my head in my hands, describe how this happened.
We left Bangkok and our
Ladyboy receptionist at 8am one fine sunny morning, to catch a bus. We had
toyed around with the idea of journeying to Cambodia, as a pose to backpacking
up and around Northern Thailand – Bridge said the temples were far nicer in
Cambodia, and that since we were so close it would be well worth our while. We,
of course, obliged. We were super excited to add it to our journey – the sort
of spontaneity that backpacking is all about – and why I love it so much. So we
decided to go.
I’m not going to
write too much about crossing the Thai/Cambodia border…because it was really
quite an interesting experience, and if anyone reading this has ever done it
then I’m sure you know what I mean. However that is a piece of writing in
construction for Travel Gen, but I will say that it was awful.
I’ve done a lot of
long transport trips; boat/bus/train/car. All over the place. Some have been
better than others. Anyone who’s been on long bus journeys knows that there are
four VITAL things to consider when taking an international/interstate/overnight
bus;
1. The degree to which the seat declines
2. How many sleeping pills/painkillers you have to
knock yourself out with
3. The amount of snacks you have
4. Options for entertainment
Annie was ok
company, I guess.
But anyone, back to the
crux of the situation. We board the bus; 8am and turn up in Cambodia in a
shamble state after a long day of hopping on and off buses, missed turns,
meeting Dutch friends, malaria scares, riding a rocky bus through the
countryside of Northern Thailand, crossing the border; problems with Visas,
problems with money, problems with currency, before getting on our 5th
bus to the border to be stamped and hustled through like cattle, before walking
on foot across the border, before getting lost and walking through the mud and
rain and poverty to safely arrive in the town nearest to the Cambodian border.
It was an exciting, exhilarating, adventure - the one where you’re scared at
how things are progressing because in this place there are no rules, there are
bribes, there is conspiracy and my god is there corruption. I’ll leave out the
Visa issues and the actual path crossing issues for another day, - mostly
because I get a headache just thinking about it.
There was an Italian
gentleman on our bus (we all to know each other very well, because the bus
journey was advertised at ‘7 hours with a friendly stop for lunch’ when in
actual fact it took around 12 hours and included multiple, hideous stops in the
middle of freaking nowhere for varying amounts of time) who was super nervous
throughout the whole journey. He was grabbing the driver, asking to see bus
driver’s ID, and anyone who tried to get us to pay them money or to see our
passports he wanted to know exactly who they
were and why they were asking. At one
point he directed our adventurous little group the wrong way because he was
scared of where we going…and he grabbed our Dutch friends before going to the
bathroom/going anywhere alone. We all had a giggle about it – bless his soul,
but it turns out he was actually kidnapped
in China, not that long ago, and literally held at ransom by these rebels
that were taxi drivers. Awkward.
But srsly, who the
hell gets kidnapped in China?! Must have sucked, but hey – the man has lived.
SO. FUNNY.
Ok, so back to the
original story of CG losing her possessions, I’m not sure quite where, but
somewhere along the 12 hour day my purse; with around $150 AUD, all my credit
cards, ID, ect had gone missing. We tracked it down to leaving it at the
hostel, someone stealing it, the bus drivers going through ppl’s packs on the
bus at one of our multiple stops where the bus mysteriously went ‘missing’ for
a little while or whatever. Here we were, at the Thai border, when we were
being processed for our Visas, and I’ve got nothing to my name. It was awful. I
had no way of getting any dosh –
cause my (clever) replacement bank card was also in my purse. As was my Aussie
credit card. It was all a bit of a mess, you know, 2 weeks into the trip and
all. So Ann sorted out the money stuff, whilst I had a little breakdown, puzzled
over what went wrong, and how.
Then it hit me; I was what went wrong.
Le sigh. It was
awful. I was convinced it had been lost, and it had cash in it…a lot of cash,
and so I knew there was no way I’d get it back. To claim it on travel insurance
(of which they pay up to $200 cash lost) you need a police report asap from the
area in which it was allegedly lost/stolen, and I was now 9 hours away from
Bangkok at the border.
Awesome.
Stressed, tired, and
in the pouring rain, and frustrated with the lack of language translation, the
hectic bus process and pretty much the situation in general, I then engaged in
some minxy negotiating with these ‘Thai officials’ - who weren’t even legit, because they weren’t
officers, or immigration dewds. They were just guys working for the company
that rip tourists off with Visas. But, more about that another time *massages temples*. Anyway, they were basically helping
us figure out a plan as to how I could get my purse back, or how I could try to
track it down.
CG was not
optimistic at this prospect.
To be fair, they
were actually all quite helpful, and I will never forget the kindness of the
Thais in being so thoughtful and considerate. But then again, don’t speak too
soon.
They helped me call
the hostel to see if the purse had been found; in which it had (OMG YAY) and
spoke Thai to our Ladyboy friend, who didn’t seem too phased by helping with anything
tbh. I’m sort of skipping over the UTTER RELIEF AND GRATITUDE I felt when I realised
it had been found…it was sort of long conversations between Thais and translations
and return calls form a phone box…and I thought it was all a waste of time…just
because, in what universe is stuff like that found? With all the money in it?!
Mental. I’m a lucky girl, and I’m aware that with my track record with this
kind of stuff, I don’t deserve to be.
The bus company runs
buses from Bangkok to Siem Reap daily. They offered me to go back to Bangkok
that night, leaving Annie in their ‘capable hands’ for the night. I’m talking a
group of seedy older Thai men, living and working in a shabby shelter which also
conveniently serves food and drinks, and their housing is attached. The place
is on a random highway, in the middle of nowhere. Real rural Thailand. You can
walk to the freeway and not see anything in either direction. Then they said
that they’d bring the purse to the border free of charge, but Annie and I would
have to ‘stay the night’ with them. They said it would be good business, we’d
pay for the accommodation and food and stuff cause there was nowhere else in sight.
But, it didn’t feel right. Sense the inverted commas. I was sitting in a hot
office with a motor fan, five Thai men surrounding me, negotiating a plan with
broken English. They had seedy smiles and smelt of sweat and bad intentions. Let’s
just say that I would have rather lost the wallet then agreed to let Annie and I
stay in their company.
Annie, btw, was
outside getting her Visa processed and was blissfully unaware of everything I was
dealing with.
The end solution was
bartering a price for them to bring it over the border to Siem Reap, and just
like the lost backpack in Austria, for me to meet a stranger at a random time
in a random place in the dark and hope that things would work out alright.
This patterned
storyline when I’m travelling is becoming all too familiar.
We bartered a price,
and they seemed happy with the profit. It was the best solution; if Annie went
on to Siem Reap and I stayed or went back to Bangkok that night, we would be separated
and only in contact when we were both in a wifi hotspot. We still only had
limited time and we decided to explore Cambodia as well, which made our schedule
kinda tight. Instead of us both journeying back, or taking days on buses and
re-doing entrance Visas, ect – it was the best option.
Still sceptical about
it being returned with everything present – the money I am sure will be gone,
but what’s a minx to do except accept it and move on.
 |
| Cambodian officials playing Candy crush on their smartphone at the border. |
I had to pay them a
decent sum of money, and agreed to pay the rest when it was delivered to me the
next night.
After holding up our
bus by around 20 minutes, we jumped on and continued our journey –still another
5 hours to go. Exhausted but still smiling, we allowed the Italian to sit with us
and our Dutch friends Wouter and Ruben, as he was getting panicky after I told
him my story with the wallet. The man shouldn’t be in Asia guys. Seems as if
his experience has scarred him.
Anywho, we’ll see
what happens with the purse.
Le sigh.
Very sceptical.
But it’s my own fault.
I can’t believe it
was found.
I’m an idiot.
Classic Caty.
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