So now Kampot, just under one hour from Kep. A quiet place to stretch the legs, but in my case, might stretch my legs. Unfortunately, the extremely tight schedule doesn't allow for more than one day.
A last look at the main square, where the assembled TukTuks are waiting for customers and the tourists are waiting for their departure.
It is indeed hot, but the restaurants and cafes at the square have long since discovered a new business model offering everything the thirsty and hungry backpacker heart desires.
I'm a bit upset about my travel plans, as I would have loved to spend a few more days in this wonderful little town.
But that's how it is with travel - you want to escape the stress at home and immediately create new ones... We are a strange inexplicable species...
But we know that all too well by now. I remember Mandalay, or Mysore or Montevideo or Jaipur. ...
There is never enough time available, the silly travel plan always insists that I should finally get on with it. I urgently need to think about things.
Kampot
And then I'm in Kampot.
First a long exploratory walk along the river, over a decrepit bridge, whose concrete elements are partly broken off and now, hanging on the last reinforcing bars, waiting for the corrosion to take its course. In addition, it is so narrow (and nevertheless used by countless vehicles) that pedestrians are basically threatened by being run over or hit by a car.
Survival in Asian traffic
However, my experience with regard to survival in Southeast Asian road traffic has in the meantime grown into a game that I am happy to play along with. Basically, it's always about making your intention clear.
Never hesitate, just keep moving, otherwise confusion will result and chaos - or worse - is inevitable. So boldly get out on the road, spot a gap, and start marching immediately. The focus should now be exclusively on the oncoming traffic; if you do it right, the oncoming motorcycle or bus driver knows what you have in mind.
All right? Is not recommended for everyone to follow, on the other hand, I'm sure there have been occasions when pedestrians have starved to death while waiting for a favorable, i.e. harmless, chance to cross the street …
Restaurant Wunderbar
The road along the river, the main attraction of Kampot, is lined with numerous hotels, shops, cafes, restaurants, and one of them is – more than unconventional – called „Wunderbar“.
"Wunderbar"? Okay, the probability that this is a Cambodian pub is extremely small, and indeed, the landlord is white, slim, busy, and I bet my last dollar that he might be a countryman.
A lively discussion immediately develops. It is about how life is in Cambodia, does he miss something, does he follow the events in our homeland, and does the view of our homeland change from a distance. Is it even important or unavoidable to keep in touch? Are the roots so deep that you can't tear them out so easily?
But perhaps none of this is all that important. We are just a tiny wheel in the context of global relationships and problems.
Regarding the unimportance of our homeland, the famous last sequence in “Casablanca” comes to mind, when Rick says goodbye to Ilsa:
He is right.
PS Matching film: Casablanca
And here the journey continues ...
