Woke fairly early this morning and realised I didn't have my "day bag". Remembered I had it at the bar last night so got ready quickly and went straight to the bar which was closed. Peering through the gap in the shutters I could see the owner was asleep in the bar (this sounds weird but is perfectly normal here) so knocked and shouted to wake her up. Fortunately for me she was a lovely person and despite being half asleep opened up the bar and after rubbing the sleep from her eyes remembered that she had found my bag. The relief! I had the camera in there. She also offered these words of wisdom "It is a bad idea to leave your bag in a bar. Anyone could take it." however I was so relieved to have it back I couldn't bring myself to be sarcastic.
After that excitement I splashed out and had a $0.75 breakfast whilst I decided what to do for the day. It took me around 2 seconds to decide to rent a motorbike and drive it up the mountain road to Bokor hill station, an abandoned french hill station nearby that Lonely Planet describes in their 2011 edition thusly
"The highlight of a visit to the hills station is the shell of the Bokor Palace , which has been stripped of everything of value. You can explore all four levels and the rooftop terrace, from which there's a magnificent view over dense jungles that stretch almost to the sea.
It's possible to wander up and down the corridors, around the kitchens and through the ballroom to the suites above, past variegated ceramic floors, tiled bathrooms and a giant fireplace where cocksure colonial French and wealthy Khmers could warm up on a nippy night. On cold, foggy days it can get pretty creepy up here as mists drop visibility to nothing and the wind howls through the building."
I wandered round the corner to the nearest motorbike rental shop and got myself a semi automatic Honda Dream for $5 and returned to the hostel to grab a waterproof jacket. Once back I found out that Alfred and a lovely french couple had also just hired motorbikes to do the same thing so after grabbing a jacket and fuelling up the bikes we were on our way.
Once out of Kampot, and off of National Route 3, the road to Bokor is a fantastic new, winding mountain road with great views of the area and even though it was throwing it down with rain for most of the journey, it was a fantastic ride. I was the only one with a raincoat and the french couple gave up after around a quarter of the way so only Alfred (who was wearing shorts and Tshirt) and I made it to the top where there is now a massive great big hotel/casino complex and building work everywhere. Even the old hotel described above is being redeveloped and is now off limits (trust us - we tried). However, the view from the top is amazing, with the sheer drop then trees, beach, ocean and islands. A photo would probably help here so I'll upload one at some point.
We spent a good few hours exploring the few empty buildings that we could, including the eerie empty church where mists appeared and disappeared in seconds.
We had lunch at the fancy hotel, a buffet which cost $10!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Excuse the overuse of exclamation marks here but that is more than Anji and I spend on food together in a day and I had no idea it would be this much. I'd already started once I found out so ate as much as humanly possible to make up for it. I'll not have an evening meal and won't each much tomorrow or maybe ever again.
We had a quick look around the casino where I was impressed by the "Please volunteer to relinquish your hand guns here" sign at the security desk. Once inside we were promptly stopped by security and told we had to hand over our bike helmets or we'd be asked to leave. Good to see they have their priorities straight.
The ride back down was great fun and it has made me adamant that I will get a motorbike licence once I'm back in the UK.
After dropping off my motorbike and discussing bus options for Vietnam with the shop owner I've returned to Cozy Elephant with no desire to leave for the evening and a thoroughly blown budget for the day. Tomorrow will be frugal.
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