Banning Lungs

Can barely use words. Cambodia is amazing. Entering from the north near the four thousand islands of Laos, wandering around the northeast on motorbikes, keeping good company and eating everything in sight is basically the M.O. of any food loving traveler in Cambodia. Motorbikes to waterfalls, stitch removal, random bakeries, alcohol fuelled 5 a.m. adventures, fighting packs of feral dogs and feral children is all part of the appeal of Cambodia. The pancake trail is as prevalent here as elsewhere, but seemingly easier to avoid with any kind of seriousness. The collected anecdotes of Cambodia at this juncture far outstrip the quick journey we had through Thailand and infringe upon the territory of actual ridiculous travel worthy of writing about.

Even getting to the first stop in the country was a trial, with warnings from bus drivers about it being empty during the celebrations for Khmer new year cementing the need to visit it's relatively seldomly travelled roads. However, getting dropped off at intersections seems somewhat along the lines of a trend, and after almost jumping in the flatbed of a passing cambodian/american owned flatbed truck, a decision is reached that waiting for the bus we paid for might actually result in a more comfortable ride. As the sky split open to pour water in quantities sufficient to turn local streets into little more than muddy rivers, the decision was lauded as a positive development. Whittle away time playing cards with locals before finally getting the bus. Arrival in Ban Lung is a typical assault of drivers jumping on the farang, but a quick question to a local headed into town lends a less comfortable but extremely affordably free ride into town in a pickup bed with a small child. Hostels are arranged, prices are decided upon, and a new city prepares to withstand the wrath of our travelling band, which has grown by one thanks to a San Franciscan coffee fanatic/neuroscientist.

you see that chicken head? Yeah I ate that chicken head.

The new year is still effective here, and other travelers are mostly in Siem Reap by now to spray each other with water pistols. That being said, some nice Vietnamese gentlemen come to our aid by waving us over to join their beer drinking festival on the side of the road. Communication is tantamount to nil, but it eventually becomes clear that we are going to eat dinner at a local house, which is sweet. Post dinner, we politely take our leave and wander through the streets in search of more revelrous places. After a quick ride on a local ferriss wheel(sketch), we come across another band of miscreants, who we have now seen in three cities and witnessed the silly faces of each other far too many times. Sharing moto crashes, waterfalls and far too much beer to be healthy with people is part of the joy of travel. Especially during new years, fit for revelry.

Ban Lung offers few things but a massive market and the surrounding countryside, which is a massive pleasure to putter around and goof about in. Climbing waterfalls where local kids monkey around and jump into shallow water or just catching vistas of the sun climbing over farmland is an experience of freedom not always felt on the regular trail. After a hot day in the sun, massive recommendations from yours truly for getting your water early. A 2 A.M. wander for cold water on a sunday in rural Cambodia includes roaming packs of wild dogs, intent on terrifying wandering lone whiteboys. No jests involved, this was the first time I was seriously worried for my personal wellbeing. Squaring off against single monstrous black dogs or ensuring a pack can't circle around you with a stick is no pleasant experience. Procuring water from the single open shop in town is the most relieving experience possible, but packs of dogs are still an issue for me in this area of the world.