Travel Day: Sihanoukeville

In retrospect, I probably should’ve spent another night in Kampot to visit nearby Kep Sur Mer. Instead, I crammed myself into the back seat of a Sihanoukeville bound share taxi and got nice and cozy with a geriatric Khmer man (with a prosthetic leg) and an Australian couple.

So far my impression of Sihanoukeville has been less than stellar. It has been marketed as Cambodia’s premiere beach resort mainly because it’s Cambodia’s only beach resort. After checking into my guesthouse and suiting up for an afternoon of surf and sun, I headed out to the nearby Occheuteal (don’t ask me how to pronounce that) beach. About a couple of minutes into my stroll (I was trying to find a good place to set up my hammock), a Cambodian lady pulled up to my left and continued walking alongside me. I figured she was just headed the same direction and paid little attention. Another couple of minutes passed with her at my side (it’s a long beach) and red flags started popping up. When I stopped, she stopped. If I picked up the pace, she would too.

As I turned to ask what she wanted, she interrupted with a “Hello, where you from?” in very broken English (this is a common pre sales pitch ice breaker for Southeast Asians).

I responded “Canada” but I knew she didn’t really care.

She then pointed at couples holding hands on the beach then pointed at the two of us before squeezing the muscles on my arm (which are admittedly limited). I should pause to note that this lady is old enough to be my mother. Now I’m starting to get worried. I said as politely as I could “whoa whoa whoa, no thanks, lady” and continued walking. She followed in tow.

Hoping to lose her, I took a seat on a deckchair at a nearby restaurant and ordered up a tuna sandwich. She followed, fluffed my pillow, staring intently at me all the while. Communication was no longer in the equation because her entire English vocabulary had been expended in her opening line and my knowledge of Khmer is limited to “hello” and “thank you” (“sua s’dei” and “aw kohn” respectively). After a bit of explaining, I managed to get the waitress to translate.

It turns out the lady was trying to sell me a massage.

I think that’s the problem with Sihanoukeville’s beaches. You can’t relax without somebody trying to sell you something. If it’s not older ladies offering massages and manicures, hoards of kids will follow you around trying to sell wooden beaded bracelets and necklaces. Others will invite you to restaurants, promising cheap food and booze. At the end of the day, all I wanted was to take a nap in a shady spot.

I never did get to hang up my hammock.