The Bokor workout

It's Friday morning and we're eagerly awaiting our trip up Bokor Mountain to see the old French hill station buildings. To escape the oppressive heat of the coastal plain, the colonial French built a hotel, church, casino and supporting buildings on the top of 1,000m high Bokor in the 1920s. Many indentured labourers perished building the 42km sealed road, which took over five years.

We've chosen the more expensive hotel tour, swayed by their arguments of better 4WDs and a better lunch. Pickup is at 8am.

8.35am comes and goes and no pickup. We're seriously debating the "quality" of this trip with the hotel management, but they assure us the driver's on his way, delayed by others not ready on time. I eye up a nice Honda Baja XR 250 in the foyer and think this would be a great way to get up the mountain.

Sure enough the 4WD arrives, and we're on the back tray sitting on narrow lengthways-running bench seats. Some padding, but not a lot. There's a grab bar in front of us, and I wonder how much it will be needed. It was a sealed road after all. Fi smiles - she's done this trip before when she first got to Cambodia.

No problems for the first few kms. We buy our tickets for entry to the National Park and head on up the hill.

The road was indeed sealed - back in the 20s. Since the French abandoned the place in the 40s it's received next to no attention, and approximately 0.01% of the seal now remains. The remainder consists of ruts, washouts and pot holes, dropping from the seal level by 300 to 500mm. Definitely 4WD and Baja/Dakar bike country - a few foolhardy cars and motos attempt the trip, and a few occasionally succeed. The rest are waylaid with flat tyres and cracked sumps - indicated by ominous trails of oil in the dust.

After an hour and a half of kidney-destroying jolting and dodging low-hanging undergrowth we finally get to the place where the King attempted to build a palace. No this isn't it - though I guess you could sling a nice hammock in the gatehouse. I was more intrigued with the "Friends" sign. I'd feel a bit more inclined if some of our entrance fee went in to maintaining the road.

After another half an hour we finally make the summit, and start having a look around.


Fi chats away to our guide in both English and Khmer as we enjoy the view out to sea.


Looking through a Vietnamese machine gun platform from a hill above the church to the old casino 500m away. The Vietnamese finally defeated Pol Pot's Khmer Rouge in 1979, but at considerable cost to Cambodia - anything of value here was ripped out and taken back to Vietnam, so the monuments are pretty stark. The Khmer Rouge were holed up in the Casino, and they took pot-shots at each other - certainly plenty of bullet damage.

The casino is particularly impressive. Imagine something the size of Sky City built here. Even better, the French casino had an impressive ballroom, with a huge open fireplace against one wall. I idly thought of a Ceroc party here - it must have been fun back in the swinging 20s - if you were part of the French elite. There's talk of building another casino here - it's certainly an impressive spot, and would bring much-needed revenue to the region, but it's important to keep the old buildings as well.

People still live up here - there's a Ranger station (important as the Park is under threat from poachers and illegal loggers), and a temple where seven monks live. We had the opportunity to look around, and check out the wildlife.


Fi gives this monkey a banana I've carefully stashed in my bag for afternoon tea. I'm not impressed! The monkey looks pretty well fed by the monks to me.

Our grinding two hour trip back down is thankfully broken by an opportunity for a half hour jungle trek. Supposedy to a waterfall, but it's a dry creek bed in the dry season. A remarkable absence of wildlife - perhaps a good thing. There's a few tigers in the park, but fortunately not too close to us. The Gary Larson in me sees two tigers anticipating the arrival of meals on wheels as another 4WD chugs up the hill.


Finally back on the flat, and our trip is completed by a sunset cruise along the river back to Kampot.

And very pretty it is too. The river is integral to the way of life around Kampot - kids even take boats to school.

A paraglider would be a great way to get the view without the hill trip, but we're on our way back to PP tonight, and we have to book an exclusive taxi at this time of night. $30 instead of 2x$5, but it has to be done to get us back on schedule. Fi has a lot of VSA work to conclude.

We hear the "cheap" Bokor trip had problems. Both their 4WDs broke down, and their guests are just starting the sunset trip as we conclude ours. It is worth paying for quality after all.

Our bodies are aching from the trip - our bums from the seats and our arms from desperately hanging on to the bar. Legs have had a good workout too with the jungle trek. We sink in to the back of the taxi, hoping for a bit of sleep, but the driver's on a mission from God to get us to PP as quickly as possible. Recall the road condition? Sleep is impossible as we get jolted around the back seat, our heads propelled off the headrests if we dare lean back and close our eyes.

On arrival in PP Fi disappears off to VSA and with second wind I go for a stroll and have dinner. A Thai restaurant offers expressos and lattes. Really? My first opportunity for a decent coffee since leaving home?! Sadly I'm disappointed - watery milk with the merest hint of an expresso shot. Perhaps Thailand.

I listen to The Doors' Light my Fire wafting out from a nearby bar and think of the comforts of home. But peripatetic life is demanding, and it's back to the hotel to plan the Angkor attack.

After the Bokor workout, my eyes close as soon as my head hits the pillow.