by Nick | Mar 21, 2015 | Blog
A Kulen Mountain Adventure
Our quest was to seek out the Silver Langur in the forests of Kulen Mountain and whatever other wildlife came our way.
‘Nick I’ve been to Corbett, Kana and Tadoba in India. The Serengeti, The Okavango, etc in Africa, but I don’t expect much.’ Hmmm – no pressure then, I thought. Kulen’s steeped in historical significance as the birthplace of the Angkorian Empire with some amazing relics remaining in the forest. There is wildlife including the fabled langur but it’s not, I hesitated, quite in the same league. ‘No worries, no worries,’ muttered John, our guest for the adventure.
Our next hurdle was the army who suspiciously studied our van, even a barang (foreigner) couldn’t need that amount of stuff for one day on Kulen, eventually they let us past the toll. Safely ensconced in the ramshackle Ministry of Environment (MoE) HQ, the different strands of expedition started to come together beginning with strong black Vietnamese coffee from the stall opposite. We headed off on our hike striding through the forest with Mr Nai our MoE ranger and dog, she hadn’t got a name.
Setting off on The Kulen Trail with Buntha, Nai & John
It was a lovely walk shaded from the sun by the dark green canopies of tall trees still flushed with rain. As we passed Phum Thmei (lit; new village), the stony ground had little moisture so the mixed evergreen gave way to a warmer shade of dry deciduous forest. It was a beautiful morning, the hot sun shining in a blue sky cooled by winds from the North. The humidity had plummeted and sweat vaporised while doing its job.
Dog had stuck with us, prancing with excitement at the slightest whiff of wildlife, which didn’t exactly help our chances of seeing any. She also had a habit of rolling in whatever stagnant liquid we passed by though there was no way she was going near the nice clean cool clear streams we had to cross, so we smelt her presence as well as heard and saw it.
The Sra Domrey was every bit as magical as always. A two thirds life size elephant statue carved out of the rock surrounded by three slightly doubtful lions and a distinctly dubious Nandi the bull.
Sra Domrey a VIV century Hindu carving
We let the sense of mystical spirituality soak into our souls as we munched Dean’s sobu noodle salad.
Inexplicably the monks beside the bat cave were clad in fake leopard skin as we passed by a little unsure as to the appropriate etiquette for the situation and entered into the dark smelly dampness. Small bats stirred in the powerful beam of my torch and forayed across the kitch gilt of a Buddhist shrine. More kitch in the form of golden Buddhas, silver stupas and white concrete elephants at Wat Preach Kraal, perched on the crest of a hill with views back over the plains of Siem Reap Province to the Tonle Sap Lake.
Downhill all the way to our campsite where Kuong, our van driver and Chomran from the local village had done us proud and chosen a stunning campsite perfectly placed above the banks of the fast flowing Kulen River. John’s tent was up and a kettle boiling on the campfire. With a sigh of contentment we drank our tea and ate adventure bars.
The water was cool, deep and invigorating after our long walk. As dusk descended dinner was served, a duck casserole courtesy of Miss Wong with vegetables and rice cooked by Chomran followed by fruit salad.
The trees towering above us appeared vast in the dim light. We caught glimpses of the star studded night sky in between their branches. Dog, who was actually very sweet, was still with us but sensing the seriousness of our quest kept quiet as our torch beams played through the forest in search of it’s tenants. We walked all the way to the Bat Cave keeping our voices to whispers as we anticipated what we might meet. Are there still leopards on Kulen? I thought. But to no avail. A couple of sleeping birds. A scratching sound coming from the ground intrigued me until I shone my torch over a troop of termites marching through the leaves. There were spiders of course but no langurs. The forest magical and mysterious at night was reward enough for our efforts.
Our Campsite beside the Kulen River
John could keep his cot and safari tent, my view of the stars shining bright in the clear sky was more than compensation for the slightly strange angle I lay contorted by the hammock and anyway what were Valium for.
The next morning when we woke the coffee was brewed and the table laid. It was a champagne day. We were in no particular hurry, content to eat fruit, sip coffee and watch and listen to the clear water rushing over the rocks below us.
A forest giant
The Langur Trail is a lovely walk, winding its way under a leafy roof many metres above. The Bat Cave marks the beginning of boulder forest, fantastical formations of sandstone boulders the size of houses. One such known as Mushroom Rock afforded views over what appeared as an unbroken wooded valley. Birdsong rang, squirrels barked and insects of every imaginable shape and form fluttered, flew, crouched, quivered and hung but the langurs remained resolutely reclused.
We’d made it back to where we started from, Preach Ang Thom for another cup of muddy Vietnamese coffee and road kill chicken (so named because its flattened to facilitate cooking over the charcoal fire). John went to look at the linga and reclining Buddha with Buntha while I arranged our pick up with Kuong.
Mushroom Rock in the boulder forest
Lianas
Phnom Kulen was an isolated island until the beginning of this century when the road was built. A set of steep steps up to Preah Ang Chup was the only way up before and now our destination on this our final leg of the Kulen adventure. The more times I walk the different trails the more identity they assume. One is not like another but its beyond my ability to describe the difference. Suffice to say our last 5km was not the same as where we had been before and fuelled our excitement and enthusiasm to the end. Who needs langurs.
Indochine Exploration organises day trips and overnight expeditions (or longer) to experience the forest and its wildlife, including langurs – sometimes. Either on foot or on challenging mountain bike rides.
The steps up to Preah Ang Chup, the only entry point to Kulen until early 20th C
by Nick | Jan 20, 2015 | Blog
THE ICE (Indochine Exploration) WATER FESTIVAL
‘Nick I’ve got an amazing booking for you,’ said Christian the GM of Shinta Mani. ‘That’s great, what do they want to do?’ I replied a little apprehensive knowing Christian. ‘Kayak,’ ‘Ok how many?’ ‘120’ ‘We can’t do it.’ ‘Why are you always so negative,’ Christian mocked. ‘Because we don’t have 120 kayaks. There aren’t 120 kayaks in Cambodia,’ ‘You’ll think of something,’ Christian reassured.
The Racing Platform
Every year Cambodia celebrates the reverse flow of the Tonle Sap River, which fills up the Tonle Sap Lake with a water festival called Bon Om Teuk.
The Welcome Committee
In Phnom Penh over 400 fifty man traditional Khmer paddle boats race down the river watched over by the King. The celebration is repeated on rivers and lakes throughout Cambodia including Siem Reap, with smaller twenty man boats. The inspiration flashed through my brain in bed that night, a light bulb moment! What say we organise our own water festival? Christian loved the idea and so the Indochine Exploration Boat Races were born.
Little Tee
Making the idea a reality was a little harder.
Where would we get the boats from? Buntha charged around the pagodas of Siem Reap.
Where would we race away from the covetous eye of the authorities? Buntha went to see the Maichrey police and commune chief.
What would we race from? Buntha arranged to tow the wedding platform across the lake from Prek Toal 20km away.
How would we get there? 3 big buses and 10 local motorboats.
Bill and Tiger
‘Oh and Nick we want muscle boys,’ added Christian so I had the onerous task of choosing 10 chiselled young men from my gym.
Getting Ready for the First Heat
Our guests were the 120 staff from the Bill Bensley design studios in Bangkok, who’d been on the piss the night before and were reduced in number to 80 and somewhat subdued excepting Bill, as I tried to explain what we were going to do. That most of them didn’t speak English might have had something to do with it. Our buses pulled up at the Maichrey boat station where our fleet was waiting. I sensed their interest start to overtake the collective hangover as we motored past the little hilltop pagoda still with its clutch of attendant floating houses. We chugged in convoy down the narrow channel that cuts though the vegetation while the lake is full. Storks wheeled overhead and kingfishers darted from overhanging branches.
The Pink and Blue Team Race
We spied the race platform tied to the trees near the open lake and as we came closer WOW!! whatever side of the sexual fence you sit, they were gorgeous. Clad only in shorts the full extent of the boys physiques were revealed much to the incredulity of the guests.
An Indochine Exploration Chauffeur
Chaos ensued made worse by me on the megaphone as we tried to assign all present into teams until I found out that they didn’t speak English and the message finally got through that they already had teams so Pink and Blue were first to race.
Making the assumption that an eskimo roll wasn’t possible in a Khmer racing boat an imminent capsize seemed inevitable as they boarded but amazingly settled 2 abreast and paddled the short way to where our Tony was waiting in a motorboat at the start point.
A few beers and some rice wine later
Meanwhile our muscle boys waited beside their kayaks until Bill bagged Tiger then Taylor took Little Tee. ‘I need to take photos Nick.’ ‘Hmmm I thought as she settled snugly behind his rippled back.
The races had started – oohps. I fumbled for my phone and clicked on the stop clock. They’d got it! A rhythm of ‘Oi Oi Oi!!’ to power their strokes drifted across the water. ‘Blue!’ I screamed through the megaphone. Then it was Orange and Green. ‘Green!’ I screamed.
Bill and Big Tee
The muscle boys lubricated with a few beers and a bottle of rice wine (we found out later) had started to enjoy kayaking with or without the guests and in and out of the water. The same guests had relaxed and were chomping their way through Rinna’s buffet laid out on the wedding platform.
Blue – the Winning Team
The time had come for the grand final so Blue and Green, captained by Bill (with kayaking paddles) made their way to the start and somebody gave the go. A primeval collective grunt echoed across the lake as sophisticated designers found their caveman inside and strained on their paddles. ‘Blue, Blue, Blue!!! Yeay, we shrieked as they edged past Green (despite the kayaking paddles) and nudged the virtual finish line. Oohps no bonuses this Christmas, Bill was Green.
Bill unnecessarily assisted by Tiger presented the winning team with 3 free nights at Shinta Mani and we bade them goodbye as they boarded the motorboats back to the buses and the hotel.
The grand prize – Tiger (presented by)
Blue – The winning Team
Indochine Exploration has kayaking adventures paddling in the stilted and floating fishing villages on the edge of the Tonle Sap Lake, kayaking through flooded forests home to the largest waterbird colonies in South East Asia. And will rise to whatever challenge we are commissioned with.
by Nick | Jan 13, 2015 | Blog
Back in the village by 9am our journey into the heart of darkness (actually lush, pastoral Battambang) began.
The waterway was fringed by hyacinth and undulating green margins of scrub with the occasional hamlets of floating houses or shacks tied to trees. The first proper village Kampong Prahoc, which sort of translates into waterside place of good prahoc (fermented fish paste). I wouldn’t want to be there when the water is low and rotten fish undiluted!
After an hour or so we began to get an idea of how vast the floodplain is. Over 40 kilometres wide where the water rises and falls by 10 meters submerging all but the tallest trees. In the floating villages along our route the only permanent constructions were pagodas on stilts.
Around a bend and Wat Cheu Khmao or temple of the black wood, came into view like a Burmese monastery with a beautiful modern pagoda framed by sugar palms behind. It was built in 1944 copying the Bayon Temple in Angkor and completed with Loksvara, the smiling faces at the cardinal points but they were blamed after accidents and disease struck the village then removed.
The salapali or teaching space for Wat Cheu Kmao
Great clumps of yellow green bamboo towered over the floating houses. The stems are harvested to provide the floating platforms on which the villages are built.
A regal Grey-headed fish eagle on guard beside it’s nest in a tall tree, while on a lower branch a hunched up night heron the servile vizier to the magnificent bird above.
We passed a tacky tourist lunch stop as bad as any bus station for the back packers crammed inside and on top of the fibreglass tourist boat and couldn’t but help raise a glass of chilled chenin blanc and dip an asparagus spear into Dean’s hollandaise sauce.
Grey-headed Fish Eagle
The single file short cut through the scrub, stopping for long tail boats loaded with beer and rice, wooden boats with giant water jars. We emerged to an open plain where the trees had been cut down. Home to a transient people living on their small house boats or shelters on the river bank as the water receded. Strange pivoting bamboo fishing nets were lowered into the water then then raised showing a whicker based tied to the bottom to catch the fish.
A floating house being towed to deeper water through a village of stilted houses
A fat pelican sat on the porch of a floating house. An unhappy monkey ran around on a chain in the full sun on a bamboo fishing platform and a full grown otter seemed ok as it scampered round the girl who held it’s leash.
The stilted houses lining the still flooded banks of the middle Sangke River
Telephone masts were visible in the distance, the river banks rose above the water and motorbikes parked beside the houses, we’d reached the upper Sangke. Beautifully painted pagodas in stark contrast to Cham mosques. Elegant wooden houses with tiled roofs on stilts between sugar palm and kapok trees.
A pagoda on the river banks not far from Battambang
Lena and Sebastian safely delivered to their garden enclave in Pum Wat Kor upstream of the town, I breathed a sigh of relief as the extra hot, double shot latte created by Chenda was placed on the little wooden table in front of me at Knyei Cafe.
Twice cooked beef with Seb and Lena at Jaan Bai cooking school restaurant then Jamesons and bed.
Weddingitis had infected the town and the Seng Hout Hotel where we’d booked to stay had a particularly virulent attack so we kept on going to find another bland box like building with half the Cardamon Forest used to make the furniture but ice cool rooms with no aesthetic distractions to sleep.
Day 3
The Battambang bicycle tour of the city with San.
First stop gold, bra cups, fruit, meat, fish. The crammed Psa Thmei or new market, built by the French.
Psa Thmei We crossed the quayside and down the dry banks to the ferry man who took us across the river to the monk school at Bovil Pagoda.
A monk house at Bovil Pagoda, Manus & Lena crossing the river
Singing rang out from the Catholic Church, which had the enthusiasm of an American black baptist congregation not the stilted formality of a Catholic communion. Time was getting short and the Bamboo Train beckoned so we had to forgo the black man in the middle of the road.
Giant wood spiders had weaved their webs over the rail tracks. Battambang rice fields stretched to Phnom Sampaeu.
A one way system, lift off the bamboo platform, remove the axles and let the oncoming norrie through.
Indochine Exploration organises overnight and longer trips to Battambang by boat when the river is high or by road when it’s not.
Nick (left), Lena & Sebastian on board a norrie
by Nick | Dec 3, 2014 | Blog
The Floating Village of Prek Toal & The Core Bird Reserve.
Vans, big motorboats, little motorboats, kayaks, bicycles, trains and taxis all had a part to play in our adventure from Siem Reap to Battambang. Overnight in the floating village of Prek Toal and the flooded forests of the core bird reserve. Across the floodplains of the Tonle Sap Great Lake and up the Sangke River through the lush rural countryside of Battambang Province to the centre of the farming town in twenty four hours and a bit.
The expedition started at the boat station near Maichrey floating village, where Mr Heang and his boat were waiting. The water was still high enough for us to cross the flooded scrub where we moored to a submerged tree. Lena and Seb were apt pupils as I explained the hydrological phenomena of the Mekong River system until I was rudely interrupted by a virulent green pit viper wrapped around a branch overhanging the deck.
Pit Viper in tree beside boat
The afternoons adventure was to explore Prek Toal floating village and the surrounding flooded countryside by kayak. The police chief took photos as we paddles past his station, children came out to stare as we floated by their houses, while those actually working ignored us.
Seb and Lena setting off from their homestay
Our improvised route went between the blackened trunks of flooded trees under their dense green canopy and emerged beside the floating Catholic Church. We crossed the channel to where a muscled boy was ladling fish into piles in front of squatting ladies who chopped them up with meat cleavers, making a pulp that would ferment into Prahoc or Khmer cheese. So named because Cambodians think cheese stinks.
The Catholic Church
We watched the sun – a blood red orange, set over the core bird reserve from the watch tower on top of the environmental research station, then motored over to the Saray Platform for supper.
Reflections twisted by the wake of motorboats. A cool breeze playing over the boat’s spume.
Hosing the prahok tables ready for tomorrow.
Alien clumps of hyacinth drifting on the water.
Single pin pot lights overly bright in the blackness.
Sunset over the Prek Toal Core Bird reserve
Cotton wool fluff of half seen cloud and the glare of a television set as we came close to people’s houses.
The women weavers on the water hyacinth workshop had gone home but their piers were cooking us supper, fish, vegetables and fruit with rice and a good bottle of chardonnay to wash it down.
Swinging in a hammock in Veasna’s house our home for the night Manus hid a lime in Baby Buntha’s nappy. His sister heaved the heavy little lump across the floor. Some hatchet faced big woman busied herself in our space. The Grandmother on all fours played with the baby. Little sister went skipping to her mummy then wrapped the baby in plastic. All the while pool hall play by the lads in the village. Hide and seek by the water jar, doubled up Grandmother.
Day 2 The Core Bird Reserve
Streaky orange lighting the village as the first long tails cacaphonic clatter echoed across the water. The old lady hawked, the batteries ran out on the night lanterns. We awkwardly crossed the tilting boats to the pool hall barge to meet Heang, who took us for breakfast back at the Saray Platform.
Dawn over Prek Toal
Bunhoeurn was waiting in the community boat for the ride into the magical landscape of the post dawn flooded forest. The light of the warming sun was reflected by the delicate yellow flowers of floating saray plant. Squadrons of cormorants flew in slip stream formation. A profusion of black and white; Oriental darters mixed with egrets, pelicans riding the thermals like galleons in the sky and the bird colonies. Avian cities built in the tallest trees.
The core bird reserve & view from observation platform
Indochine Exploration organises overnight and longer expeditions to Battambang by boat when the river is high and by road when its not.
by Nick | Oct 18, 2014 | Blog
Puok River (that wasn’t) Recce
‘To boldly go where most sane Khmer’s don’t.’
We knew the launch point beside the Angkor Crau Bridge, Sokun (tuktuk driver and Indochineex adventure guide) found it immensely funny that we hadn’t a clue where we were going.
Nick blowing & Sokun pumping
We inflated the kayaks on the banks of a channel that’s just been dug by Apsara to manage the flow of the Siem Reap River as per the Angkorians a thousand years ago, with the aim of stopping the town from flooding and to restore the ancient water systems preventing the foundations of the temples crumbling.
An old man and a couple of children, a smaller than usual crowd attended the assembly of our spaceship and watched as we lifted off or rather splashed down, plonking our bottoms into the kayak, paddling down stream with Puok vaguely in mind.
The river was covered with a patchwork of lotus leaves and intense lilac flowers, the lush green banks were looked over by a few tall trees.
Our first obstacle was a fishing fence right across the channel, which we unhitched. The next low hanging branches, which we pushed our way through to find a straight stretch of water leading to a dam surrounded by quicksand. By the time I’d sunk past my knees I suggested to Buntha we find a different launch point.
Lilac studded waterway
Back on the road or river, easy sailing or paddling to where we reached the plughole, a narrow gap in the banks that funneled the river flow, directing it to spill in a big mess across the countryside.
Curious locals
Valiantly we hauled ourselves through the rope like vegetation past flesh ripping rattan thorns and ended up in a leech infested swamp.
I went off to investigate and after 500 m found a small stream presumably heading towards the river, which we had rather carelessly lost at this stage in our expedition.
‘Tow na?’ Buntha asked a passing cowherd. ‘Arrrrgh,’ he was dumb. None the wiser we launched into the stream through a rice field then came to a halt as it too disappeared into impenetrable bush.
Down the plughole
‘Its all part of the adventure!’ Buntha looked nonplussed. We packed up the kayak and set off along a lovely sandy path in search of somewhere to paddle. A fringe of forest lay ahead, which in all fairness really should be the Baray, confirmed by a man in a ditch. Our way twisted between stilted wooden houses dishevelled with detail emerging on the road by the Baray.
In search of a river
‘Sokun where are you?’ ‘I can’t get my tuktuk round.’ ‘Nothing for it Buntha, lets pump up and paddle across.’ I said giving him an over cheerful grin, he responded with a theatrical groan.
The vast waters of the West Baray stretched into the distance. ‘You said 2km,’ Buntha accused me. ‘2 + 2 + 2,’ I smiled slurping my beer and pulling off a piece of chicken as we swung in our hammocks in the Khmer resort at the South West corner of the Baray just spying the far side where we’d come from.
The Khmer Resort on the Baray
Indochine Exploration has cycling and kayaking adventures around the West Baray and Tonle Sap Lake along recce’d routes but we’re happy to explore and get a little lost with guests on foot, by bike and kayak.
