Day 342 - Life's a beach in Sihanoukville?

Tolerance is a double-edged sword. SE Asia has a strong Buddhist tradition, so it seems to be the norm to turn the other cheek. Sometimes though, you question where the line should be drawn.

It had been six weeks since either of us had seen the coast. We agreed a beach should be next on the agenda. Southern Cambodia has built up a quietly impressive reputation, so we boarded an overnighter.

The journey was far from smooth, but we arrived in one piece. Rachel had done her research and concluded that Sihanoukville could be roughly divided into three areas. Victory Hill (sleazy sex tourism), Serendipity Beach (backpacker party central on a seriously dirty patch of sand) or Otres (electricity-deficient but unspoilt, about 5km out of town). She chose the latter. It was a good decision.

We jumped in a tuk-tuk and, without reservations, made an inspection of four properties. We settled on the Sea Garden. Sure, our banana-leaf hut might only have electricity for six hours a day and was as basic as basic gets, but it was literally a meter from the shoreline and the vibe felt good.

We settled in. The Sea Garden was not busy. Just us and another couple. The Cambodian staff looked underworked, and there were more than a few of them. Then we met Mike.

The Sea Garden is Mike's baby. A businessman from Colorado, he made the decision to move to Cambodia after visiting on a sex holiday.

Excuse me? In the sweet words of the Virgin Mary, "Come again?"

Yep. If there was one thing Mike was not, it was shy in coming forward. He was unashamedly unabashed about the nature of his involvement in the local economy. As well as the Sea Garden, he was also part-owner in the newest 'hostess' club in town; Victory Club. He invited us to visit to see what it was like. Mike guaranteed a 'classy atmosphere' and the 'best-looking ladies in town'. In the interests of maintaining an open mind before passing judgment, Rachel and I agreed to check it out.

We were chaperoned by Jeat, who was to be our own personal tuk-tuk driver for the week. Not only did Jeat have a willingness to join in an evening's festivities, he also had to the handy knack of turning up in the right place at exactly the right time.

Driving through Victory Hill, we soon became aware of it's denizens. More often than not, they were either young Cambodian females or older western men. Possibly not a place to take the family, unless you want the kids asking "Mum, why do all the ladies keep blowing kisses at Daddy?"

Victory Club itself was certainly a cut above the rest. It had a red carpet, and tinted windows. Inside we were met by more lasers than a late 80s rave and R'n'B blasting from the speakers. Ironic really, given the apparent purpose of the club was to enable "western men to sit down with Cambodian women and talk", before they both subsequently left to go wherever and do whatever.

In truth the place was far more tame than most western strip clubs. The atmosphere inside was more one of boredom, rather than sleaze. The girls looked uninterested and, with the exception of one lady who took an obsessive fancy to Rachel, spent most of the time texting on their phones or bopping away unconvincingly on the dancefloor.

Surprisingly, there were other couples in the place. We all watched old and (surprisingly) young men skulk their way in the door, bringing the sleaze factor with them into the otherwise-friendly venue. They flashed decay-ridden smiles and groped their way around the place, heading out minutes later, their 'selection' in tow.

Rex and Noy (and his impressive geezer accent!) were gracious hosts both times we visited. Invariably though, we left after about an hour and headed for Serendipity Beach.

That stretch of sand was somewhat different. This was about backpackers. The beach itself had seen better days. Bar after bar lined the sand and spilled up into the strip. They all sold the same thing; cheap booze and western grub. Meat pies, burgers and small sand buckets filled to the brim with gut-rot whisky and red bull. Headache material. A guy at the bar next to me sat rolling large joints and dishing them out to bar staff. Spring break stuff. A harmless waste of time, quietly laying waste to what might have once been a nice looking stretch of sand. Nice to visit, wouldn't want to live there.

So back every night we headed to the Sea Garden. Chatting to the staff and to Mike. Enjoying our pristine beach, a bumpy dirt road ride away from central Sihanoukville. Lots of dinghy sailing and sunsets to amuse ourselves with. The Sea Garden suddenly began to fill up as Khmer New Year approached. Then the heat came.

Every morning without fail, the sea breeze would drop to zero and the sun would begin to bake us in our huts at 6am. Without electricity to power the fan, sleep became impossible. The mass exodus began. That Friday, half the hotel left with us to board a bus to Kampot. And the discussion began.

We all began to chat - the ladies especially - about what was going on in Sihanoukville. It's funny, but when people present so comfortably what should ordinarily be uncomfortable, it's strange how it can grant it normality.

As long as there is a market for the sleaze, I guess it will be provided. After all, it's the oldest trick in the book. However, the comfort some display in shopping for people like groceries is odd.

Perhaps, it all came to a head when two Norweigian lads checked into the Sea Garden with a Cambodian lady. Hours later a second Cambodian lady arrived. Mike laid eyes on them and informed anyone within earshot that he "wanted her to come work for him". When did it become alright to publicly announce your desire to pimp someone's date, regardless of whether they are 'in-the-business' or not?

I liked Sihanoukville. I enjoyed the unspoilt nature of Otres. Heck, I even enjoyed the lawlessness of the bars in Serendipity. However, one thing is clear to me now. There are a people in that town that have lost touch with reality. People who believe that the kind of money that buys you little in the west but a lot in Cambodia, also gives you the right to act in ways you never would on home shores.

And that there, folks, might just be the big trouble in little Sihanoukville.


All the photos from Sihanoukville can be accessed here. Free of charge too!