Amit Gilboa type entry to Cambodia
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Amit Gilboa type entry to Cambodia
I am currently in Thailand. I am planning to cross the Thailand-Cambodia border Amit Gilboa-style from Off The Rails In Phnom Penh. Any advice on how to do this?
Not much has changed since Gilboa crossed the border:
+++From Amit Gilboa, Off the rails in Phnom Penh
(just to refresh the memory of those who want to assist)
Hat Lek to Koh Kong October 12, 1997
<p>Upon returning to Viet Nam after the July coup in Phnom
Penh, I decided that that trip to Cambodia would be my last.
It would have been too easy to convince myself of the need
to do more 'field research' about the brothels, the lakeside
pot-houses, and the firing range. I could see the effect
Cambodia had on her residents, and I was eager to keep
myself on the tamer side of existence.</p>
<p>With my research in Cambodia finished, and my basic
credentials in business journalism established, I was ready
to find steady employment. I managed to secure a job in
Bangkok, which added an even greater sense of closure to the
Cambodian adventure.</p>
<p>After the oppressiveness and savage greed of Viet Nam and
the shabbiness of Phnom Penh, modern Bangkok and the
easygoing Thais were a welcome change. I was enjoying my
first two months in Bangkok, right up until the time my new
employer gave me a forced and unpaid one week vacation.</p>
<p>I decided to make the best of it and left Bangkok for the
southeast corner of Thailand. Trat province has a sizable
Khmer community and some relatively untouristed beaches. I
spent the first day in Trat town trying to get information
about crossing to Cambodia.</p>
<p>The general picture is that the land border at Hat Lek is
open for Cambodians and Thais only. One can cross by sea,
but it can be very difficult to return to Thailand. Because
there are no exit or entry stamps authorized for Hat Lek,
the Thais are unwelcoming to anyone trying to enter there.
Apparently, one can 'enter' Cambodia at Hat Lek only if one
has never 'left' Thailand, i.e. you leave Thailand without
an exit stamp, and receive no entry or exit stamps from
Cambodia.</p>
<p>I will try to enter Cambodia but avoid any Cambodian
formalities which would mark my passport with evidence of my
trip.</p>
<p>In high spirits, I leave Trat town. I am looking forward
to the adventure, especially since saying, "I snuck across
the border to Cambodia" sounds much more dangerous and
exciting than it really is.</p>
<p>Khlong Yai, the area's other main town, and Hat Lek
beyond it, lie at the southeastern-most tip of Thailand on a
very long and narrow sliver of land that juts out from the
main body of Trat province. The Khmer nationalist in me is
outraged at whatever clever Siamese maneuvering allowed them
to extend their coastline so far down into what was very
obviously once part of Cambodia's Koh Kong province.</p>
<p>Once in Khlong Yai, I start inquiring about a land
crossing into Cambodia that will avoid the Hat Lek
checkpoint. Over and over again I am told in Thai, Khmer,
Chinese, and English that Hat Lek is the only crossing
point. In this area, people explain, Cambodia and Thailand
are separated by hills inhabited only by landmines and
bandits. The only alternative even mentioned is a place
called Khlong Soon. A Khmer-speaking motorcycle driver takes
me there.</p>
<p>Khlong Soon is a disappointing sight. I had expected some
small village on the border from which I could just stroll
into Cambodia. Instead, I am standing on a pier looking out
into the Gulf of Thailand.</p>
<p>The harbor is the perfect image of a Thai fishing town.
Scruffy, dark men and women are shoveling shrimps from piles
on the pier into packing crates, while small wooden fishing
boats clutter alongside the jetties.</p>
<p>As the only farang in town it doesn't take long before a
Khmer speaker finds me (as opposed to vice versa) and I
outline my plan to get to Cambodia. Eventually he finds
another man, who comes over and tells me that he can take me
on his fishing boat without going through Hat Lek, but not
until the day after tomorrow, and not all the way to Koh
Kong.</p>
<p>I decide to keep exploring my options. Besides the
prospect of a long wait here or back in Trat town, safety is
another factor. This area is full of smugglers, illegal
loggers, bandits, and pirates -- all of whom should be
presumed armed. There has been significant Khmer Rouge
activity in the recent past, and I also suspect that the
provincial police and military are probably less predictable
than their Bangkok or Phnom Penh counterparts.</p>
<p>While a well-meaning but ignorant friend in Bangkok
labeled my venture as "suicidal," I take a more realistic
approach. Crossing into Cambodia is merely a matter of
calculated risks. Sticking to well-trafficked areas and
moving in daylight will reduce my risk of being robbed to a
minimum, and my risk of being hurt to infinitesimal --
certainly lower than riding a motorcycle taxi through
Bangkok. Hiding in the hold of a fishing boat tramping
through sparsely populated islands, however, seems to be
tipping the scale toward unacceptable risk.</p>
<p>In general, foreigners get into trouble in Cambodia
either when resisting armed robbers or getting tangled with
the Khmer Rouge. Because I am carrying nothing that I would
hesitate to hand over, a robber will find me a most
agreeable victim. By asking the locals about any Khmer Rouge
activity, I can probably avoid that scene [Page183]
[Page184] altogether. Overall, with a hit of good judgment,
I believe my journey is much safer, and thus less
adventurous, than most people would ever imagine.</p>
<p>Instead of the fishing boat, I try my luck at Hat Lek, a
few minutes down the road. I smile at the Thai officials at
the check-point. They smile in return, but explain that they
simply cannot allow non-Thais or non-Cambodians to cross.
Still smiling,! casually lean against the counter of their
little shack, giving them every opportunity to change their
minds or request a 'special fee.'</p>
<p>They confer briefly. "No have way you exit here," one
says apologetically, pointing to the gate that lies just
between the hill and the sea. Then he points to the hill
separating me from Cambodia and says, "Can go there, but you
walk mine, we no can help you."</p>
<p>Walking into Cambodia through the jungle would make a
great story, but I am not ready to risk a leg for it.
Resigned, I peer into Cambodia and then admire the Thai
soldiers' heavy caliber machine gun pointing up at the hill
I was just invited to cross.</p>
<p>The next attempt is by sea. Moored to a small pier near
the land crossing is a flotilla of small plastic motorboats
with 30 or 40 horsepower motors attached. Except for the
Thai soldier strolling around, everyone on the pier speaks
Khmer. They explain that it is impossible for me to go.</p>
<p>With my motorbike driver as translator, I speak with the
soldier. He laughingly tells me that, although it is illegal
for me to exit Thailand, it is perfectly acceptable for me
to get in a boat. I just need to remember that the Thais are
not responsible for what happens if the boat I happen to get
into leaves Thai waters. With that, the soldier walks off
the pier.</p>
<p>Suddenly, going to Cambodia is as difficult as stepping
into one of the motorboats. Joined by two Khmers and a Thai,
we speed off along the coast. Within a couple of minutes,
the Koh Kong International Resort Club comes into view. It
is a huge casino built just inside Cambodian territory so
that the gambling-addicted Thais can roll the dice without
violating Thailand's anti-gaming laws. The rest of the half
hour trip is a pleasant ride hugging the unpopulated
coastline. The only distractions are identical speedboats
making the trip in the other direction.</p>
<p>We make a turn around a ridge jutting out into the sea
and I can see a small coastal settlement which turns out to
be Koh Kong town. As we approach the shore, I see no
officialdom at all -- just a collection of motorboats moored
along the beach, and a small market beyond. When we land on
the beach, I hop out, make my way up to the market, and then
on to the main road. I am back in Cambodia.</p>
<p>I spend some time wandering around, reminding myself of
the overwhelming friendliness of the Khmers and the
unrelenting shabbiness of their country. Koh Kong, capital
of Cambodia's southwest -- and tagged with the Khmer for
"city" -- is merely a comfortable little backwater town with
fresh air and no buildings above two stories. I know about
the large-scale illegal logging and smuggling that goes on
in the region, but on the surface, Koh Kong is just a dusty,
but pleasant, provincial seaside town.</p>
<p>The locals tell me of the town's only foreign resident,
an English teacher from Canada named John. Within minutes of
arriving in town, I am at his house, and he invites me to
make myself at home for as long as I wish. John is an
amicable, hospitable, and warm human being.</p>
<p>Compared to the frenetic debauchery of the teachers in
Phnom Penh, John's life is one of relaxed contentment. He
teaches a couple of hours a day, plays music on his guitar,
listens to loud music on his stereo, smokes ganja almost
continuously, and stays faithful to his girlfriend in Canada
who visits him every few months.</p>
<p>We talk about life in Koh Kong. The coup was a non-event
here; if it had not been on the news, he would not have
known about it. He tells me that, "Koh Kong is actually a
FUNCINPEC province, but there's so much logging and
smuggling that nobody wants to rock the boat just for
ideology. I'm sure they just switched the guy they pay off
in Phnom Penh to stay out of their hair and that's the end
of it."</p>
<p>While the areas far from town are infested with bandits,
armed smugglers, and loggers, the town itself is a small
community where there is very little
crime. With so little nightlife, John is often in bed and
asleep by 8 or 9 o'clock.</p>
<p>John also gives me tips about the border crossing. My
wish to re-enter Thailand means that I cannot take the usual
route to Phnom Penh -- the boat to Sihanoukville -- because
that port city has a legitimate immigration office. Taking
the boat means a stamp in my passport and thus problems with
the Thais when I return.</p>
<p>I recall that RAC flies to Koh Kong, and have no
difficulty finding their office in this one-horse town. The
airline's staff, all three of them lounging about their
office watching TV, inform me that there are two flights a
week. To my inquiry, they tell me that neither a passport
nor any immigration formalities are required for this
internal flight. I hand over my $50 and receive my boarding
pass for tomorrow's flight.</p>
<p>My stamp-less journey to Phnom Penh settled, I return to
John's house. Apart from a brief interlude when he is
teaching, the rest of the day is spent smoking ganja,
listening to music, and chatting about both of these
topics.</p>
+++
+++From Amit Gilboa, Off the rails in Phnom Penh
(just to refresh the memory of those who want to assist)
Hat Lek to Koh Kong October 12, 1997
<p>Upon returning to Viet Nam after the July coup in Phnom
Penh, I decided that that trip to Cambodia would be my last.
It would have been too easy to convince myself of the need
to do more 'field research' about the brothels, the lakeside
pot-houses, and the firing range. I could see the effect
Cambodia had on her residents, and I was eager to keep
myself on the tamer side of existence.</p>
<p>With my research in Cambodia finished, and my basic
credentials in business journalism established, I was ready
to find steady employment. I managed to secure a job in
Bangkok, which added an even greater sense of closure to the
Cambodian adventure.</p>
<p>After the oppressiveness and savage greed of Viet Nam and
the shabbiness of Phnom Penh, modern Bangkok and the
easygoing Thais were a welcome change. I was enjoying my
first two months in Bangkok, right up until the time my new
employer gave me a forced and unpaid one week vacation.</p>
<p>I decided to make the best of it and left Bangkok for the
southeast corner of Thailand. Trat province has a sizable
Khmer community and some relatively untouristed beaches. I
spent the first day in Trat town trying to get information
about crossing to Cambodia.</p>
<p>The general picture is that the land border at Hat Lek is
open for Cambodians and Thais only. One can cross by sea,
but it can be very difficult to return to Thailand. Because
there are no exit or entry stamps authorized for Hat Lek,
the Thais are unwelcoming to anyone trying to enter there.
Apparently, one can 'enter' Cambodia at Hat Lek only if one
has never 'left' Thailand, i.e. you leave Thailand without
an exit stamp, and receive no entry or exit stamps from
Cambodia.</p>
<p>I will try to enter Cambodia but avoid any Cambodian
formalities which would mark my passport with evidence of my
trip.</p>
<p>In high spirits, I leave Trat town. I am looking forward
to the adventure, especially since saying, "I snuck across
the border to Cambodia" sounds much more dangerous and
exciting than it really is.</p>
<p>Khlong Yai, the area's other main town, and Hat Lek
beyond it, lie at the southeastern-most tip of Thailand on a
very long and narrow sliver of land that juts out from the
main body of Trat province. The Khmer nationalist in me is
outraged at whatever clever Siamese maneuvering allowed them
to extend their coastline so far down into what was very
obviously once part of Cambodia's Koh Kong province.</p>
<p>Once in Khlong Yai, I start inquiring about a land
crossing into Cambodia that will avoid the Hat Lek
checkpoint. Over and over again I am told in Thai, Khmer,
Chinese, and English that Hat Lek is the only crossing
point. In this area, people explain, Cambodia and Thailand
are separated by hills inhabited only by landmines and
bandits. The only alternative even mentioned is a place
called Khlong Soon. A Khmer-speaking motorcycle driver takes
me there.</p>
<p>Khlong Soon is a disappointing sight. I had expected some
small village on the border from which I could just stroll
into Cambodia. Instead, I am standing on a pier looking out
into the Gulf of Thailand.</p>
<p>The harbor is the perfect image of a Thai fishing town.
Scruffy, dark men and women are shoveling shrimps from piles
on the pier into packing crates, while small wooden fishing
boats clutter alongside the jetties.</p>
<p>As the only farang in town it doesn't take long before a
Khmer speaker finds me (as opposed to vice versa) and I
outline my plan to get to Cambodia. Eventually he finds
another man, who comes over and tells me that he can take me
on his fishing boat without going through Hat Lek, but not
until the day after tomorrow, and not all the way to Koh
Kong.</p>
<p>I decide to keep exploring my options. Besides the
prospect of a long wait here or back in Trat town, safety is
another factor. This area is full of smugglers, illegal
loggers, bandits, and pirates -- all of whom should be
presumed armed. There has been significant Khmer Rouge
activity in the recent past, and I also suspect that the
provincial police and military are probably less predictable
than their Bangkok or Phnom Penh counterparts.</p>
<p>While a well-meaning but ignorant friend in Bangkok
labeled my venture as "suicidal," I take a more realistic
approach. Crossing into Cambodia is merely a matter of
calculated risks. Sticking to well-trafficked areas and
moving in daylight will reduce my risk of being robbed to a
minimum, and my risk of being hurt to infinitesimal --
certainly lower than riding a motorcycle taxi through
Bangkok. Hiding in the hold of a fishing boat tramping
through sparsely populated islands, however, seems to be
tipping the scale toward unacceptable risk.</p>
<p>In general, foreigners get into trouble in Cambodia
either when resisting armed robbers or getting tangled with
the Khmer Rouge. Because I am carrying nothing that I would
hesitate to hand over, a robber will find me a most
agreeable victim. By asking the locals about any Khmer Rouge
activity, I can probably avoid that scene [Page183]
[Page184] altogether. Overall, with a hit of good judgment,
I believe my journey is much safer, and thus less
adventurous, than most people would ever imagine.</p>
<p>Instead of the fishing boat, I try my luck at Hat Lek, a
few minutes down the road. I smile at the Thai officials at
the check-point. They smile in return, but explain that they
simply cannot allow non-Thais or non-Cambodians to cross.
Still smiling,! casually lean against the counter of their
little shack, giving them every opportunity to change their
minds or request a 'special fee.'</p>
<p>They confer briefly. "No have way you exit here," one
says apologetically, pointing to the gate that lies just
between the hill and the sea. Then he points to the hill
separating me from Cambodia and says, "Can go there, but you
walk mine, we no can help you."</p>
<p>Walking into Cambodia through the jungle would make a
great story, but I am not ready to risk a leg for it.
Resigned, I peer into Cambodia and then admire the Thai
soldiers' heavy caliber machine gun pointing up at the hill
I was just invited to cross.</p>
<p>The next attempt is by sea. Moored to a small pier near
the land crossing is a flotilla of small plastic motorboats
with 30 or 40 horsepower motors attached. Except for the
Thai soldier strolling around, everyone on the pier speaks
Khmer. They explain that it is impossible for me to go.</p>
<p>With my motorbike driver as translator, I speak with the
soldier. He laughingly tells me that, although it is illegal
for me to exit Thailand, it is perfectly acceptable for me
to get in a boat. I just need to remember that the Thais are
not responsible for what happens if the boat I happen to get
into leaves Thai waters. With that, the soldier walks off
the pier.</p>
<p>Suddenly, going to Cambodia is as difficult as stepping
into one of the motorboats. Joined by two Khmers and a Thai,
we speed off along the coast. Within a couple of minutes,
the Koh Kong International Resort Club comes into view. It
is a huge casino built just inside Cambodian territory so
that the gambling-addicted Thais can roll the dice without
violating Thailand's anti-gaming laws. The rest of the half
hour trip is a pleasant ride hugging the unpopulated
coastline. The only distractions are identical speedboats
making the trip in the other direction.</p>
<p>We make a turn around a ridge jutting out into the sea
and I can see a small coastal settlement which turns out to
be Koh Kong town. As we approach the shore, I see no
officialdom at all -- just a collection of motorboats moored
along the beach, and a small market beyond. When we land on
the beach, I hop out, make my way up to the market, and then
on to the main road. I am back in Cambodia.</p>
<p>I spend some time wandering around, reminding myself of
the overwhelming friendliness of the Khmers and the
unrelenting shabbiness of their country. Koh Kong, capital
of Cambodia's southwest -- and tagged with the Khmer for
"city" -- is merely a comfortable little backwater town with
fresh air and no buildings above two stories. I know about
the large-scale illegal logging and smuggling that goes on
in the region, but on the surface, Koh Kong is just a dusty,
but pleasant, provincial seaside town.</p>
<p>The locals tell me of the town's only foreign resident,
an English teacher from Canada named John. Within minutes of
arriving in town, I am at his house, and he invites me to
make myself at home for as long as I wish. John is an
amicable, hospitable, and warm human being.</p>
<p>Compared to the frenetic debauchery of the teachers in
Phnom Penh, John's life is one of relaxed contentment. He
teaches a couple of hours a day, plays music on his guitar,
listens to loud music on his stereo, smokes ganja almost
continuously, and stays faithful to his girlfriend in Canada
who visits him every few months.</p>
<p>We talk about life in Koh Kong. The coup was a non-event
here; if it had not been on the news, he would not have
known about it. He tells me that, "Koh Kong is actually a
FUNCINPEC province, but there's so much logging and
smuggling that nobody wants to rock the boat just for
ideology. I'm sure they just switched the guy they pay off
in Phnom Penh to stay out of their hair and that's the end
of it."</p>
<p>While the areas far from town are infested with bandits,
armed smugglers, and loggers, the town itself is a small
community where there is very little
crime. With so little nightlife, John is often in bed and
asleep by 8 or 9 o'clock.</p>
<p>John also gives me tips about the border crossing. My
wish to re-enter Thailand means that I cannot take the usual
route to Phnom Penh -- the boat to Sihanoukville -- because
that port city has a legitimate immigration office. Taking
the boat means a stamp in my passport and thus problems with
the Thais when I return.</p>
<p>I recall that RAC flies to Koh Kong, and have no
difficulty finding their office in this one-horse town. The
airline's staff, all three of them lounging about their
office watching TV, inform me that there are two flights a
week. To my inquiry, they tell me that neither a passport
nor any immigration formalities are required for this
internal flight. I hand over my $50 and receive my boarding
pass for tomorrow's flight.</p>
<p>My stamp-less journey to Phnom Penh settled, I return to
John's house. Apart from a brief interlude when he is
teaching, the rest of the day is spent smoking ganja,
listening to music, and chatting about both of these
topics.</p>
+++
- Lucky Lucan
- K440 Knight Captain
- Reactions: 761
- Posts: 22525
- Joined: Fri Mar 04, 2011 12:24 pm
- Location: The Pearl of the Orient
The problem is it sucks being illegal in any country. You won't be able to get many services and you'll get arrested if you can't show documents. Also there is more security along the border than there has been in decades.
Romantic Cambodia is dead and gone. It's with McKinley in the grave.
- Phuket2006
- The Internet is my Friend
- Reactions: 99
- Posts: 6980
- Joined: Fri Jan 05, 2007 7:00 am
with all the migrants being detained and arrested trying to cross both ways, i would not even think of trying it at this time
"We are turning into a nation of whimpering slaves to Fear—fear of war, fear of poverty, fear of random terrorism, or suddenly getting locked up in a military detention camp on vague charges of being a Terrorist sympathizer." HST
I was there in 1994 it was wild west and went back several times as I had been living in Ko Chang,
it was incredible but last time in 2009 the spirit of that place had drastically changed simply because the road had been made to Sianoukville and isolation was gone not to mention Sianoukville was changing at break neck sppeds I hear now, just forget it, it is a mini Shang hai.. what to do.. Thanks for your tale above...T
it was incredible but last time in 2009 the spirit of that place had drastically changed simply because the road had been made to Sianoukville and isolation was gone not to mention Sianoukville was changing at break neck sppeds I hear now, just forget it, it is a mini Shang hai.. what to do.. Thanks for your tale above...T
Hello again
I actually I said I had been living Ko Chang but in those you flew in Cambodia the border posts were not yet opened and certainly not ko Kong so you had to go from Sianoukville by boat which is what gave it its isolation and laisser faire wild west ambiance. Wooow. Just to update what I said cheers...
I actually I said I had been living Ko Chang but in those you flew in Cambodia the border posts were not yet opened and certainly not ko Kong so you had to go from Sianoukville by boat which is what gave it its isolation and laisser faire wild west ambiance. Wooow. Just to update what I said cheers...
I heard shitsville was sans chinese tourists presently due to covid restrictions in china & even rumors of them not returning due to gambling.
Bring back Lonely Planet Thorn Tree.
My Three Mothers Tell Me I'm An Attention Whore.. I Love My Mums
Cambodia entry is the easiest of any of its seasia tourism competitors.
Nows the time to get its mojo back by promoting sihanoukville tourism to westerners for summer.
Nows the time to get its mojo back by promoting sihanoukville tourism to westerners for summer.
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