From Trat I caught a min-bus to the border. When the driver dumped me off, I was at the mercy of the border touts. One guy stuck to me the entire time I was browsing the Thai shops and followed me through the Thai customs. Naturally they didn’t ask him for his passport.

The Cambodian health authorities tried the ol’ $5 health certificate scam, but I was wise to them and turned away from the outstretched hand. The visa guys were another story altogether. The scam they were pulling now was to demand that you pay in Thai Baht rather than American dollars. They refused to accept my twenty bucks. You see, what they do is demand everyone pay Baht, then run to the moneychanger, covert it to dollars, submit that to the government and keep the difference. Some of those bastards were able to move into bigger homes as a result of this little side business.

My tout, who had followed me through every step of the way, offering helpful advice (“Go here” pointing to a door clearly marked “Visa application” and brimming with Barangs (foreigners)). He was all set to give me a ride to town. We agreed on a price that I felt was a bit excessive and away we went. Just beyond the border, at the bottom of a hill, he pointed to dirt track leading up and to the left. It was a village of some sort, lined with houses (shacks really) on both sides and numerous side streets. “For ladies,” he said with a grin. So, there were lady houses up there, eh? I’d heard of a little village near the border. This was obviously it.

The bridge across the river was complete, so it was an easy go (you used to have to haggle with the boatmen, so I’m told). Motoboy, upon hearing I was taking the ferry in the morning, was adamant that I buy my ticket right away. “Boat fill up soon!” he cried.

He took me to the wharf and I examined the vessel. It was a long, streamlined thing. The captain told me that it was perfectly all right to buy a ticket now for the morning trip. I didn’t like the sound of things so I decided not to buy. Motoboy was very upset. He was sure I would not get a seat on the morning ferry.

When he dropped me off at my guesthouse, he was upset again when I gave him the sum we agreed upon. He claimed that I was responsible for paying the bridge toll. “No,” I stated firmly, “we agreed that you would take me to my hotel for this amount.” He tried to argue, but I dismissed him and entered the house.

I arranged to rent a moto from one of the locals. It was 100THB for a couple of hours. Too much, but I was eager to explore. I puttered around the town for a while, then made my way across the bridge.

Before long, I noticed a moto come up along side me. Glancing back, I noticed two good-looking girls gaining on me. I smiled and they gave me devilish grins. When they caught up, they asked me where I was going. I tried to tell them I was heading for the border, but it was difficult to explain. They told me they were on their way to eat. We played chase for a bit then they slowed down and headed up the road I saw earlier. “Hmm … what are chances they’re working girls?” I reckoned pretty good since they were both nicely dressed and had jewelry.

At the border I made a couple of phone calls on my cell and headed back to the mysterious road. I puttered up slowly, keeping an eye peeled for the two girls and for any lady houses. It was dusk, so there should have been some red lights somewhere. I went up and down every street and saw nothing. No bars, no karaoke, no nuthin’.

I’d gone three nights without sex and I was not about to go home dry this night. In desperation, I managed to find a shop owner who spoke a bit of English. It was tough trying to discretely ask him where I can screw some of his countrywomen, but I managed. He told me there was a place not 50m from where we stood. I’d gone by it a few times and saw no girls. This time, however, I noticed a few hovering around the entrance. Furthermore, my girl on the bike was there!

I went in and saw a few of the girls getting ready. They were crowded in the corridor, squatting on the ground, applying wayyyy too much makeup. My girl, Mardi, was small, thin, Khmer girl about 20 years old and quite cute. She took me to her room, cubical really, and we got undressed. Like most brothels in this part of the world, she lives in this room. It’s just large enough to hold her bed, a small cabinet for her things and room to turn around. Yes, it’s smaller than any Western prison cell.

Mardi had done a nice job dressing the place up, though. Draped over the bed she had a pink curtain-like affair (which served to keep the skeeters at bay) and had added ferry lights at the head of the bed. The walls were mostly decorated by her fairly extensive collection of jeans and tops.

Wrapped in towels, we went to the toilet to wash up. As scary as South East Asian brothel toilets can be, I really like them because I associate them with South East Asian brothel girls. Mmm …

The sex was OK, but I was so horny I couldn’t help but have a good time. Mardi didn’t want to do any work, but she wasn’t very happy about what happened when I did all the work. The poor little thing was soaked as I worked up a sweat above her. Heh, heh.

When I brought out the camera, she was quite shy all of a sudden. I showed her how it worked and she got into it a bit. Her friend in the hall saw what was going on and wanted in on the action. I have half a dozen shots of the three of us sitting together, but in every shot the friend has her eyes closed. I don’t know if her timing was bad or if she was somehow superstitious of the camera.

Mardi showed me some photos of herself and surprised me by giving me one. These are quite valuable, as 5x7 prints are not so easily come by in that town. I put a couple of bucks on her cabinet as we left, then gave the mammasan a fiver. She looked at me like she was expecting more, but I was looking at her like I knew exactly how much things cost in that town.


Photo: Mardi 21 22

I made my way back to Koh Kong. I was tempted to look for some of the other lady houses in town, but was somewhat tired. I returned the bike and asked the hotelier about the cost of the ferry. Just as I has suspected, motoboy would have made a sizable commission had I bought the ticket the day before. My hotelier was able to get me a discount.

The next morning, bright and early, I was at the wharf, ticket in hand. As I’d traveled on a boat like this in the past, I knew well enough to buy a lunch and take it with me. I picked over the stalls and found some things to my liking. I made my way on board and settled in for a long, uneventful journey.

Good Googly Moogly! That is one absolutely hot little spinner. Looks like it was worth all the friggin' third world corruption, scams, and touts. Is it possible to get the girls takeout? Those facilities just are too much of a downer for me. Also you also seemed to have lots of good advanced intelligence on the how the local tourist structure and prices worked, did you read about this online, or did you pick up this info from fellow travelers on the road?

Yeah, she's a cutie, eh? You can't see it, but she's got a nose piercing and a very cool looking braclet/ring attached to her hand.

I'd heard about Koh Kong quite a few times, but nevery really paid much attention. That's why I had such a hard time finding the sanuk venues. The $5/hr thing I'd picked up from ex-pats I'd run into in the past. Mind you, this was my second foray into Cambodia, so I did have a little experience (check out 24 Hrs in Phnom Penh With The Wombat for that story, it's a good one.

Girls are available for takeout if you negotiate well. Expect to pay $20+. If a motoboy takes you, you can almost double it.

I like Koh Kong. First past that way fall of 2002 a couple of months after the bridge was completed. At that time there was only one car for hire in the whole town and two guys took turns driving on alternate days. I was stunned at how much more congested the border area was when I went through last year. Hope the town can hold on to some of it's charm with the continuing influx of traveler the bridge brings.
If you ever have the inclination try taking the minibus service between Koh Kong and Siehanoukville. It costs the same as the ferry, leaves the same time as they ferry, but takes two hours longer. But, there are three river crossings where you must get out and wait for the river ferry. Time to stretch your legs and always plenty of food vendors at the docks. Not recommended for the rainy season however ... minivans and mud are not a good mix!

I was nearly tempted to take the bus just for the view through (what's left of) the forests. Actually, one of the ferries stop at a point about half-way to Sihanoukville, but I just couldn't get up the gumption to go. I'm a boat and train guy anyway, so it's the only way to go.

It's killing me that you couldn't get a shot or two of that sweet little ass sans jeans !! She may not be beautiful but that body !

Murasaki--She goes next to spinner in the dictionary !

mcdijj and wombat: where did you guys stayed at?

I am hitting KK this summer, I think I will spend 3 days there and would like to have some recs.

Thanks for the report!