Towards the end of last year, before the madness hit, I was in Cambodia for a spell on two Khmer islands. Personally, it was an extremely rough trip, but two beaches on two islands made the whole trip almost worthwhile.
That is Long Set in the distance. Photo: Stuart McDonald.
For me, it is hard to write about Cambodia and not get upset. I only lived there a couple of years, but of everywhere I’ve lived in the region, nowhere touched me more than there. While it is lame to use another writer’s words to express how you feel, journalist Lauren Crothers nails it:
“There are still so many wonderful things about Cambodia that will sustain my love for it—the growling sky before a rainy season downpour; the sound of a Tokay gecko piercing the quiet of a night thick with humidity; the people.”
and earlier in the piece, and, in my opinion, more importantly, Crothers writes:
“If that is exhausting for a foreign journalist, I still to this day cannot imagine what it is like for Cambodians, who have been working on these issues far longer than I ever did, and who will continue to, for many years to come.”
Koh Toch “Don’t touch me”, Koh Rong. Photo: Stuart McDonald.
Aghast at Sihanoukville, I removed all our coverage of the place—save a one–pager, subtitled:
“To reach heaven one must pass through hell.”
Then I got on the ferry to Koh Rong.
Years earlier, when we were living in Phnom Penh, we were offered the opportunity to “buy” a beach on Koh Rong. The price was US$30,000 (yes, I still have the emails!) and while it would have exhausted our savings (and some), it was tempting. Land title was unclear (duh!), and the whole shebang was beyond dodgy, but we talked about it. In the end, a wiser friend counselled “Dude do you really want to lose your life savings on an island called Ko Rong?!”
This is not the beach I thought about buying. Photo: Stuart McDonald.
We passed. Fast forward a decade and it was wise counsel.
Koh Rong has gorgeous beaches—that true white sand meets turquoise waters thing. The landing point though for most, is Koh Toch, and it is a dump. Stacked back with cheap digs though, it is where a lot of budget travellers stay.
After a few days, I moved to Long Set (4K) Beach which was better. It wasn’t till a few days later that I grabbed a scooter and made my way via a garbage trail to Lonely Beach that I hit paydirt.
Access to some beaches remains limited. Photo: Stuart McDonald.
There’s only the one place to stay, Lonely Beach Eco Resort, and for once the self–appointed “eco” earned its keep. The beach is a golden sand rather than the searing to the eyes white. Palms shade the sand. Hammocks swing by the water’s edge.
Thanks to me getting lost on the “trail” I hit the beach a ten minute walk from the resort. A Khmer family were camped there, fishing. They had a small fire going and waved me over to chat. My Khmer and their English was worse than the trail so it was all sign language, but they tossed me a beer for a buck and offered me a tiny fish barbecue. They’d keep an eye on my bike they signalled, and I wandered down to the resort.
Hello Lonely Beach. Photo: Stuart McDonald.
Lonely Beach nails the hippy chic rustic vibe. Super welcoming staff and the managers happily walked me through a bunch of rooms. They’re all built back from the high tide mark “We work hard to stay legal” they said, and each hut, while rustic, charmed. Come with a lover I thought.
The next day I was on the big beach, Sok San. It is the classic beautiful beach on the island, but the digs all fell way short. I hadn’t been off Lonely Beach 24 hours and already I missed it.
The beach shacks are simple. Photo: Stuart McDonald.
A few days later I was on the sister island, Koh Rong Samloem. Again I stayed on the main beach, walking, checking hotels, and gas-bagging with bar owners. The beach is exposed and the weather had not been not kind, so Saracen Bay was far from looking its best. The sand was still white and the water crystal, but garbage was a big issue.
On the third day there, I had a run in with a hotelier. He marched down making a beeline for me, and demanded to know if I was a travel writer.
Beach cafe on Saracen Beach. Photo: Stuart McDonald.
I fessed up and he went on this tirade. I had no idea who he was, nor how he had identified me. Regardless, someone, somewhere had shit–talked his establishment and he was not happy. Getting all shouty he pushed me a couple of times as I tried to extricate myself from his madness. As I wasn’t in the frame of mine to have a fist fight with a lunatic European, to a trail of abuse I walked off and had a bad pizza. Happy days.
Looking to get off Saracen and avoid another confrontation, the next day I walked over to Lazy Beach.
Need a shack to write your Masters? Here you go. Photo: Stuart McDonald.
If there was ever a beach that earned its name, it is this one. As with above mentioned Lonely Beach, there is only one place to stay. According to the English management I talked to, this was the first place to open on the island. It remains one of the best.
Oversized wooden bungalows are scattered right along the beach. They’re more solid and less quirky than at Lonely Beach, but the appeal remains solid. The one weird thing, was in the room there was a black vinyl lounge that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a bus station, brothel or Thunderbirds set. The bathrooms are very basic. Very. Aside from these points though, it is pretty fab. Again, pack ten books, one lover and turn your phone off for a week.
Peak hour. Photo: Stuart McDonald.
The beach has a steeper drop-off, but it is a similar golden sand to what they have on Lonely Beach. You know the sand—the type your feet sink into, and give a foot massage at every step.
I can feel it now.
Couchfish Diversion 14: Two islands, two beaches