bennettdavisblog

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Over the Ocean and Through the traffic, to Grandma’s Pagoda We Go!

Our internal clocks are so out of whack, not knowing if it’s night or day, Saturday or Monday (recall we lost Sunday), taking a nap just wasn’t going to happen.  The concierges recommended many things to see and do.  Though they pushed that we go to the Genocide Museum (nothing says Welcome to Cambodia like a stop at the Genocide Museum followed up with a quick jaunt over to the killing fields), we opted for a short walk to a pagoda close to our hotel. Called Wat Phnom, or Temple Hill, it is where Phnom Penh got its beginning.  The legend is that an old lady (Daun or Grandma) discovered some Buddhas inside a log there and decided that a hill with a pagoda should be on top of it and from that the city was born. Yeah, not sure I believe that one.  However, there is a hill and there is a temple built on top and we set out to see it.  This is when culture shock takes over and you realize that you actually are on the other side of the world.  It’s one thing to be at the Raffles being pampered and quite another to be walking around Phnom Penh getting an unfiltered view of the city, its people, and its way of life.  It ain’t like home.  Speaking of home, we had to pass the US Embassy to get to Grandma’s pagoda.  The building takes up an entire city square and a big one at that.  You are not allowed to take pictures of it, and I can only imagine why the US needs an embassy of that size in such a small country.  Actually, I can imagine, and I suspect it has something to do with proximity to the “C” country to the north.  Odd, but I digress.  

Back to Grandma’s pagoda…The pagoda is in a traffic circle and to get there you take your life in your hands hoping that you won’t get run over by the same modes of transportation we dodged in Pho’s van.  In Pho’s van, we had protection. Crossing the street you’re on your own.  It’s Grandma’s death trap.  Thanks, Grandma.  The best way to cross is to become part of the weaving and bobbing of the traffic flow.  Trust me, you learn that quickly.  Staying committed, hesitate and you’re dead, miraculously we make it to the other side.  Not a wonder all these people are there praying in the pagoda.  They’re thanking Buddha for allowing them to live after crossing the street.   Supremely jet lagged and not knowing what the heck we’re viewing, we looked a little like this guy perplexed at how his new toy works.  

At this time, we don’t have a clue about Hindu or Buddhist mythology (as of this writing we are near experts), so I took this photo of Lisa (people we just got off a 20 hour journey and she looks pretty good) in front of a seven headed Naga, the sea serpent that protects Vishnu in Hindu and in Buddhism, Buddha told Naga how to become a human in its next life.  Or something like that.  

We went about halfway around the circle and finally came across the stairway to Grandma’s pagoda.

We climbed the steps and the second thing we came across was this party going on with a barbecue, incense, and lots of people. 

Clueless about what we just saw, we climb some more steps and finally make it to the temple.  You have to take your shoes off to go in and I wonder if I’ll ever see my $150 sneakers again.  I will.  The temple is beautiful and full of gifts and money for whom I don’t really know.  The monks maybe?  Buddha? No idea. 

We walk around the temple, assume we are now blessed, exit, go back down the stairs, and catch a tuk-tuk to go find a French owned wine bar I read about called Bouchon.  We get dropped off, went in and had two glasses of wine and some delicious clams. The bill was just under $16.00.  I’m going to like Cambodia!! By the way, the currency is US dollars making life very easy for us gringos.

Back to the hotel for a quick rest and shower.  We decide to dine at the hotel since we were so tired.  The waitress asks if we want inside or outside and since it’s a gorgeous night, we say outside.  Still or sparkling water?  Sparkling.  Here’s how they serve it.

Not being terribly hungry, we ate a few appetizers, fine, nothing special, and were headed for the room.  HOWEVER, we passed The Elephant Bar and since Jackie Kennedy went there, we had to go, too.  Nightcap!  The Elephant Bar is as classy a bar as there is.  You feel the history of the place when you go in.  Imagine all the dignitaries, movie stars,  and prominent businesspeople who have stopped in (and still do) for a world changing conversation over a Mekong Gin dry martini. 

At this point, I’d like to say we’ve had a second wind, but no way.  Lisa has Jackie’s Femme Fatale and I have a house Negroni, which for some reason is a big deal in Cambodia.

Barely able to keep our eyes open, it’s now officially time for bed. We drag ourselves to the room and fall fast asleep.  It’s only 8:30pm PP time and Sunday is still nowhere to be found.

[bennettdavisblog]

We Won the Raffle(s)!!

We arrived promptly at 8:30am at the Phnom Penh airport and were second and third in line through immigration.  Unfortunately, the smallish South Asian woman in front of us `must have been on the international most wanted list because her entrance took forever.  As is always my curse, I’m a terrible line picker.  Grocery, bank, pharmacy doesn’t matter how strategic I think I’m being, I’m always in the long line.  Finally after about twenty minutes the surly looking immigration officer completes her fingerprinting and lets her through. Lisa and I together go to the surly immigration officer. He shoos me back in line.  “One at a time.”   Lisa, not on the international most wanted list gets through, but not before she is fingerprinted.  Surly man waves me to come over.  I show him my passport and get my hands ready for fingerprinting and surly man looks at me like I’m crazy.  “No fingerprinting!” He hands me my passport and I am good to go.  It pays to look like there’s no way this bespectacled nerd could possibly be an international criminal (unlike my beautiful bride who, obviously, exudes suspicion according to one surly Cambodian immigration official).

Now the challenge is to find our driver, Pho Bang.  There’s supposed to be a guy with a sign saying “Davis” named Pho Bang, but there’s not.  I get approached by several other drivers looking for their rides only to disappoint them.  Where is our Pho Bang?  At last my What’s App goes off and it’s him.  He has no sign and not where all the other drivers are, but that’s ok.  We found him and then off we go to our hotel, Raffles Hotel Le Royal. Pho did have this sign in the back seat of the van.

About that drive.  Cars, trucks, bicycles, tuk-tuks (for the uninitiated, a motor bike that is connected to a buggy), and motorbikes, millions of motorbikes, all weaving in and out. Traffic signs are meaningless.  One way street? Only for some. Stop lights? Why bother, no one would  notice. Lane stripes? Nothing more than street art.  Then, of course, Pho wants to have a conversation.  I was so tired I would normally have fallen asleep, but I couldn’t because I wanted to see whether we were going to hit or get hit by a car, bus, truck, motorbike, or tuk-tuk. Pho speaks English.  Well, sort of. Almost all signs we see are in Khmer and English.  In fact, most people in Phnom Penh speak English, except that it’s what I call Khmer-glish..  It is English but with the hardest to understand accent.  Pho spoke the purest Khmer-glish (meaning you have to listen so hard, it’s exhausting).  After traveling for 20 hours straight, you don’t want to have to try to decipher Khmer-glish.  Pho is very nice though and he offers us guided tours while we’re in Phnom Penh (we think that’s what he said), which was a quick ot-tei (Khmer for no thanks).  He is scheduled to be our driver on the way back to the airport, we would see him then but no time in between.  Nope couldn’t do it. Foreshadowing:  Pho would be a lifesaver later on.

Through the chaotic yet surprisingly graceful vehicle ballet that is traffic in Phnom Penh, we arrived at Raffles Hotel Le Royal.  

In fairly understandable Khmer-glish  we are met by the many staff with “Mr. And Mrs. Davis welcome to Raffles” hands clasped together just below the chin and a slight bow topped with a huge smile.  

Please have a seat on the couch.”  Seat on the couch?  I know it’s only 10am but when I booked they promised our room would be ready and we are barely able to keep our eyes open.  What’s with this?  I inquire, Is our room not ready?  The response, Oh yes of course, but first we’d like to get to know you and to show you maps and things to see and do in Phnom Penh. Two concierges sit next to us in the lobby, check us in while sitting in the lobby and talking to us about what to do in Phnom Penh.  Very lovely, but can we go to our room? There’s a very comfortable bed waiting for us.  After about 20 minutes, we are allowed to go to our room where we are met by the bellman dressed in traditional Cambodian clothes (ironically, he speaks the best English of all of them), tip him and luxuriate in our beautiful French colonial bedroom with a view of the magnificent twin pools.  

The storied Raffles Hotel Le Royal has had quite a few celebrity guests including Charlie Chaplin, Somerset Maugham, Charles de Gaulle, Jackie Kennedy, Joe Biden, and of course, now Lisa and Bennett. Jackie Kennedy seems to have made the biggest impression.  The Elephant Bar, the hotel’s classy cocktail lounge made a drink in her honor when she came in 1967, the Femme Fatale.  They even kept the glass she drank it out of having never washed it (gross!!) and keep it displayed in the hallway.  

Her photograph is ubiquitous throughout the hotel. I especially found this one with the King of Cambodia intriguing.  

I mean, you’d think that maybe riding in an open air Lincoln might not be such a great idea.  Hey, Jackie, does “fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me” ring a bell?

Our trip has begun in earnest. We will stay at the Raffles for 3 nights and I can tell you this.  If you ever find yourself in Phnom Penh, splurge and stay at Raffles. Actually, you don’t have to splurge because Cambodia is so damn cheap!

[bennettdavisblog]

Breakfast is Served and Served and Served. And what happened to Sunday?

After a delightful 24 hours in San Francisco visiting daughter and nephew, we boarded Singapore Airlines Flight 33 and we were on our 17 hour way to Singapore en route to our first stop, Phnom Penh.  (Shout out to Caroline for picking us up and dropping us off at the SFO!)

Singapore Airlines does not fail to deliver. (If there’s a choice between Singapore Airlines and any other, take Singapore Airlines!)  17 hours is a ridiculous amount of time to spend in a tube hurling across the globe. Jet lag was going to set in, but how to mitigate? Aha! The goal was to stay up until 4am Pacific time, then sleep for 8 hours with the help of a Benadryl tablet and arrive in Singapore well rested and ready to hit the ground. Well, not so fast…  Champagne on takeoff, wine with dinner (I ordered Thai chicken curry-damn good), followed by an after dinner scotch and well, I didn’t exactly make it to 4am.  I did have a chance to read (a lot) and watch Sideways, which I had not seen since 2004-great movie. Unable to stay awake much longer at 1am, I took the Benadryl, and by 1:30 I was fast asleep.  Lisa was able to stay up until 2:30 so kudos to her for having the stamina and will power and less drinks to stay up.  Coma slept about 5 hours and woke up in time for breakfast.  I really don’t understand why they wake everyone up to eat breakfast when it’s the middle of the night at our destination and there’s still 5 hours left to go to get to Singapore.  All good except we both never really got back to sleep.  Didn’t matter.  The excitement of going to Southeast Asia with relatively few plans and not knowing what to expect made sleep irrelevant.  What in the world are we doing?  

We landed in Singapore and if the rest of the city state is like the airport, we must go back. What’s the deal with Singapore?  This is not a normal place.

There are fish and crocodiles floating on the ceiling. Yes! That’s the ceiling!!

We made our way to the Singapore Airlines lounge to grab our second breakfast while we waited for our flight to Phnom Penh.  It’s 6:00am and apparently you eat the same thing for breakfast as you do for dinner.  I guess that cuts down on the cost of printing menus. Noodle soup, dim sum, and other things I have no idea what they were-for breakfast.  When in Rome! Dim sum it was.  The layover was short, so we went to the gate for our next flight to Phnom Penh.  The flight took off on time and we were headed to Cambodia!  No sooner than we reached cruising altitude, they brought out what? A THIRD breakfast!  This time it was noodles with shrimp and scallop-for breakfast.  Folks, it’s 7:45 AM!  We’ve now eaten three breakfasts. Whatever.  Feeling nice and very full the best news was yet to come. The Super Bowl was being shown on the 1 1/2 hour hop over to PP, so we got to watch the whole first half .  Lisa was watching the game, too, but I sort of think it was to see Taylor Swift.  We arrived in Phnom Penh without a hitch, but here’s the thing…we left on Saturday and arrived on Monday.  Sunday, February 11 is forever gone from our lives.  We’ll never live it.  Poof! I am confused though.  Does that make us a day older or younger?? On one hand, we are older because it’s a day later. On the other hand, we missed a day so does that make us a day younger?