Banlung, Ranatakiri

After a few days in Siem Reap we headed to Banlung (pronounced barn loong) in the province of Ranatakiri, which is “out in the sticks” of  far North-Eastern Cambodia.

Kim behind a waterfall

Although still a beautiful and relatively undeveloped area, the change is coming fast. Here the native bush is being clear-felled at a rapid rate and being replaced with Chinese-owned rubber and cashew plantations. The roads are wide and flawless. One of the locals told us that the roads were built by the Chinese so that they could log the area even faster. The clear-felling and burning reminded me a bit of home. The jobs bonus included at least one bloke being employed, driving a tractor that dug post holes for the trees to be planted in.

Tony, at the bungalow, about to clean teeth

Our first room was in a bungalow in the bush on the outskirts of town. There was no air conditioning and stuff felt damp like it does in the tropics with very high humidity. The door of the room had been left open, with the light on and there were a fair few insects inside. We brushed most of them out – but not all of them. I got stung by a bee on the soft part of my foot, which bloody hurt, much more than bull ant stings do. Shortly afterwards Kim also got stung on her foot, so we decided not to stay for two nights like we had originally planned. Besides, there was no wi-fi in the rooms!!

The accommodation came highly recommended in the Lonely Planet guide, mainly because of the quaint bungalows in the bush setting. There was a good atmosphere in the restaurant area, but the down side is all the Western tourists, talking loudly on their mobile phones and being a little too demanding of the staff. These come as a result of the publicity.

Once we got to the natural bush we went to a waterfall where we met a 70 year old Canadian woman that had retired to Cambodia. She was really talkative, almost too talkative. She spilled her guts to us, and told us of her life and travels, and gave graphic details of how she had been attacked in her house in New Guinea. The details of the attack are too gruesome to write about on here, but she was left for dead. However, she was remarkably resilient. She said that she had not spoken to anyone in English for months, perhaps explaining her enthusiasm.

The next day the owner of our bungalow took us to a new hotel. He apologised for the bees and said there was a large nest near our room. An older Australian lady had fallen over and seemed surprised that her leg was not broken, even though she could walk on it. I expressed my sympathy to her, but the term “drama queen” did enter my thoughts.

Our new hotel, for an extra $2 per night

The new hotel was really nice and not that much more expensive. We got to talk to our friends and family back home on Skype. It was great to be able to say ‘Happy Mothers Day’ with a webcam at both ends.

Getting out of here on the bus proved to be a bit of a saga, as we accidentally gave the bus company the wrong pickup address. We had to get the reception staff to contact the bus company. Their English was poor to non-existent, but somehow we managed. The bus was small, cramped and hot, but it was still a relief to be heading out.