Malaysian cycles through Cambodia

Locals wash their bikes in the river at Kompong Chnang.

After being covered with mud, one Malaysian girl discovers the delights of bicycle touring on the long road to Angkor.

I scanned nervously up and down the conveyor belt at Phnom Penh International Airport. It was the first day of my bicycle tour, but the rest of the month-long journey could end today, hinging on the fate of my two-wheeler.

I had spent a laborious two hours the previous day packing up my full-sized touring bike into a bicycle box for the first time – an effort that required multiple YouTube videos, and a lot of improvisation. A lot can happen to a bicycle in its journey from the check-in counter to the arrival hall.

Soon I spotted the unmistakably large rectangular box rolling towards me – I guess there was no separate section for oversized luggage in this airport. I hauled it onto a trolley, along with the rest of my luggage.

I had read online that there was a voucher system for taxis with a flat rate of US$12 (RM44), and proceeded to line up to buy one. But when I got to the taxi, the driver looked clearly befuddled with my load. With some manoeuvring, the bicycle box could just about fit into the backseat.

On the ride into the city, he peeled off the US$12 voucher, and asked for US$15 (RM55) more for the extra trouble. Considering that I probably had no more taxi or tuk-tuk fares to pay in the next few weeks, I couldn’t be bothered to haggle with him.

The only accommodation I had booked for my entire trip was a hostel in Phnom Penh, and it was in its dark front hall that I spent another two hours putting my bicycle back together. A screw had come off from my rear pannier, but luckily it was still at the bottom of the box.

Gears – check; brakes – check; reinflate tyres – check; reattach all accessories – check. I guess I was ready for my bike odyssey!

The plan for my adventure was simple. I had always wanted to visit Angkor, and when a project fell through, I suddenly had about four weeks to play around with.

The writer’s bike at the royal palace in Phnom Penh. Photos: THAM PEI TING

One idea led to another, and suddenly a plan was hatched – I would embark on a bicycle tour from Phnom Penh to Thailand, making a stop in Siem Reap and Angkor. At the very least, I had to reach Bangkok before time or money ran out, from where I could return to Kuala Lumpur overland via trains or buses. With a beginning and an end in mind, anything was possible in between those two points! Great plan!

Covered with mud

I spent two full days in Phnom Penh exploring the sights, getting the hang of my bicycle decked-out in touring mode, and orientating myself with the local roads. It is a buzzing city with the busy traffic typical of a booming South-East Asian capital; however, there is still a large population of locals on motorcycles and bicycles.

The city centre is a grid-like maze, but there are hardly any traffic lights. Most vehicles drive slowly and, with gentle avoidance of each other, somehow everyone on the road manages miraculously not to crash into each other.

For a regular KL cyclist, Phnom Penh is a bit trickier to cycle around – but not by much. In fact, I learnt that “just cross it” is the motto to roll with here; somehow vehicles will slow down and avoid you.

The writer (right) with a young student cum guide from Butterfly Tours in Battambang.

One of my highlights in the city was the visit to the Choeung Ek Killing Fields. The US$6 (RM22) entrance ticket included the rental of an audio guide, which gave an excellent, comprehensive background to the history of the Khmer Rouge regime, as I slowly toured the grounds. It was hard to imagine that the idyllic surrounding scenery once was the setting for horrific examples of what humans are capable of doing to each other.

After two days, I was ready to load up my panniers and get on the saddle towards Siem Reap. There were two options to get there from Phnom Penh – Highway 5 or Highway 6, with the latter being the shorter and most straightforward route.

But after consulting a most reliable resource – taxi drivers – I found out that Highway 6 had a section under construction and was probably not ideal for cycling. So I decided on the more scenic Highway 5 for about 330km towards the provincial town of Battambang.

The first 20km out of Phnom Penh proved to be my most harrowing time on Cambodian roads. Traffic was heavy with trucks and buses spewing exhaust fumes; roads were bumpy and pock-marked with potholes; there was an 800m section of red dirt slushed with water that became thick, sloppy mud. After one hour, the bike and I were completely covered in mud – so much for a great start.

Thereafter, however, traffic began to thin out and urban dwellings turned into paddy fields and wooden village houses. Day One of cycling was a true baptism by fire – 101km to Kompong Chnnang, a small fishing village on the edge of the Tonle Sap River.

Languid charm

Compared with the rest of South-East Asia, Cambodia is a small country with few major cities, with Siem Reap being the biggest tourist magnet. Once out of Phnom Penh, I hardly saw any other tourists and was fully immersed in local culture.

Khmer is a difficult language to learn, so I was mainly communicating with hand gestures and facial expressions. Meals were decided by choosing the stall with the most locals, peeking at what they are eating, and pointing fingers. Although there were no standouts, I enjoyed all of my Cambodian meals, which seemed to be a mix of influences from Vietnam and Thailand.

The Guardian of Battambang town, seen in this statue of Ta Dumbong, He was a cowherd who found a magic stick and used it to overthrow the king then.

Although the highway was long, straight and dusty, there were always little roadside shacks every few hundred metres selling fresh coconuts, cold drinks and bottled petrol for motorcycles.

Aside from speeding trucks and buses, I shared the road with bullock carts, long-handled motor tractors, school children on bicycles and traders on loaded motorcycles.

There were always constant screams of “hello!” and frantic waving when I cycled past houses with little children, excited by the rare sight of a tourist they could interact with.

After three full days of cycling, I finally arrived in Battambang, a city that reminded me of Ipoh crossed with Sandakan. Although possessing few “official” tourist attractions, its charm lies in its laidback local atmosphere amidst a setting of beautiful colonial architecture.

I enjoyed a half day city heritage tour with Butterfly Tours, an outfit which I highly recommend (www.butterflytour.asia). The agency is staffed by local university students looking to improve their English, and they are a very enthusiastic and spirited bunch.

A Khmer-style Buddhist temple seen during the writer’s trip outside Phnom Penh.

They were the first Cambodians that I was able to converse with at length about their lives, their country’s rough past, and the future. My 20-year-old female tour guide told me she aspires to be a politician so that she can improve the lives of her local community; it was heartening to meet ambitious and idealistic young Cambodians like them.

Next up, I was headed for the Thai border, but I had to brave the the commercialised frenzy at Angkor first. That’s when I discovered just how a bicycle is the best way to explore the magnificent temples – and escape the tourist hordes.