I have never encountered as many scams as I did in Cambodia (aka Scambodia).
To be fair, I don’t mind paying more at markets and things like that – what’s a small amount of money to me can be a lot to someone else, so I’m pretty fine with it, as long as the price isn’t exorbitant. What I’m not fine with is being lied to and totally screwed over. If I learnt anything about getting around Cambodia, it was to double-check all transport-related information.
Our trip to Ban Lung was probably the icing on the cake.
There’s a lake in Ban Lung that’s so round and deep it was supposedly formed by a meteorite years and years ago, so naturally, we really wanted to see it. Mistake number one was going to any old travel agency in Siem Reap. In India, you can walk in to the sketchiest looking place and book a bus or train that will leave from where they say, when they say. This does not happen in Cambodia.
They said we would be on a big bus (not an overpopulated mini bus) with air-con, and the whole trip would take five hours. We got on a large bus the next day that had air-con, and a few mosquitoes flying around, and proceeded to travel south instead of east. The powers-that-be only seemed to understand English when it suited them, so we gave up asking where we were going after a while, realised there was really nothing we could do, and sat there for five-hours travelling in the wrong direction. We were eventually dumped with a few other tourists at a road-side eatery (in Krong Kampong Chnang, wherever that is) and basically told to shut up and eat some fish soup for an hour while a mini bus came and got us.
It was on this mini bus that we discovered we were the only ones going to Ban Lung, and all other tourists were going to Laos. The people in charge told us we would be heading north again, and given that Laos is north from where we were, it seemed pretty likely that’s where we were going. Our luggage was strapped to the back of the van (despite everyone’s protests), and off we went for another seven hours.
When it got dark, the drivers (who could now miraculously speak English) piped up and said they hadn’t been instructed to go to Laos or Ban Lung, and stopped in Stueng Traeng where there was a hotel owner conveniently waiting to take people to his hotel. While everyone else went with him, Chris and I refused, and went to find our own hotel up the road after being assured there would be a bus to take us to Ban Lung the next day.
By this point, we were pretty annoyed. Being ripped off while buying something at a market is to be expected, but dealing with two-days of unplanned travel and total uncertainty in a foreign country where no one will talk to you is completely different. After a lot of questioning, the bus drivers eventually gave us the name of the man who orchestrates these operations (Jed), put him on the phone, and Jed hung up immediately. We were very close to calling off the rest of the trip to look for him and bring justice to ripped-off tourists everywhere.
The bus did show up the next day (albeit three-hours after it was supposed to), and we arrived in Ban Lung three-hours later. What should have been a five-hours morning trip turned in to a 15-hours odyssey spanning two-days. Wherever Jed is, I’m pretty sure he has more money than I’ll ever have in my life.