and tarantula-tasting Dirt-biking, tomb-raiding

and tarantula-tasting

Dirt-biking, tomb-raiding

w

anna go on a dirt-biking trip across Cambodia?” The question came piercing through my sleep-befuddled brain. “Err, don’t they have landmines there?” as my first response. Even before I asked it, I kne there as no ay I as passing up a chance like this. So I found myself among seven riders from Bangalore, ho landed in Cambodia mid-April, riding gear in to. This as no ordinary motorcycle expedition, because it as going to be totally off the tarmac — cutting across fields and river beds, huddling inside thatched huts in the rain, drinking odd-coloured liquids and eating even more odd-looking experiments... The trip as organised by Indimotard, die-hard bikers, buddies and fello adventurers. They had GPS-mapped some juicy, crazy bike trails across Cambodia. Jeeps of the bike orld Phnom Penh felt like home as soon as e landed. The same chaotic traffic, corruption and an even more obvious disparity in ealth than in India. It seemed like Cambodia either lives in palatial houses ith barbed ire fences and spanking ne SUVs or it is in a shanty and drives a motoscooter they call a “Tuk Tuk”. Despite all this, the people seemed happy and friendly. Our first task as to choose our steeds from the local supplier. And this as nothing short of a sayamvara. Bikes ere discarded because “they just didn’t feel right”, “no chemistry” and various technical reasons, till each of us ere kitted out ith fantastic Honda XR250s or Baja250s. These ere the jeeps of the bike orld. Riding high on tall suspensions that could soak up the orst of terrain. Our plan as to exit the cities and go off the main road. From there on, e ould cut across dirt trails, jungles, villages and fields till e hit the tarmac again close to our destination. Soon e ere skidding along mud and gravel at high speeds, legs stuck out near our front heels hile careening through slopes. But after hours of riding through dust and seat, e almost alays landed up at one of the quaint villa-style boutique hotels dotted across Cambodia. The secret pool Our first destination as Kep. Imagine a beach ringed ith French colonial villas, bougainvillaea and floering frangipani trees, ith old sculptures peeping out from the bushes — that’s Kep. In beteen exploring seaside trails and trying our hand at sand-riding along the beach, e stopped to lunch on fresh crabs, prans and squid coming right off the sea onto our plates. After this feast, e ere obviously in no shape to do any serious trail riding. So our host came up ith a plan to go in search of the “secret pool” rumoured to be hidden in the hills nearby. Our trusted GPS maps led us there. With the help of some village kids, e clambered don a cave to emerge into a magical cavern, ith a limestone green pool of a perfect six-foot depth. In seconds, clothes ere flung off and e dived in. Our next stop as a small-ton restaurant, renoned for serving up some bizarre fare — crispy fried locusts, deep-fried tarantula spiders and various such delicacies. Once you get over the mental block of putting a creepy-craly into your mouth, they don’t taste bad at all. The locusts ere crunchy and spicy, hile the tarantulas ere not very different from mildly flavoured seafood. After this brief interlude, e ent to the infamous “killing fields” of Pol Pot, here millions ere executed in a span of a fe years. The bones, skulls and bizarre stories bear testimony to man’s supreme cruelty. It struck us that all along e had been passing signboards hich indicated the areas as either cleared or uncleared of minefields. And that there ere people still losing life and limb in Cambodia because of its deadly past. tomb raiders We moved on to the historic city of Siem Reap. The locals seemed far more excited about its night life, rather than the ancient ruins. And e soon discovered hy. Head out to Pub Street on almost any night of the eek and you can find a huge street party. Lining the streets are great bars like ‘Angkor What’ and ‘Red Piano’. The discotheques pulse ith life right into the early mornings. The ruins surrounding Seam Reap — including sites like Angkor Wat, Angkor Thom and Ta Prohm — are for the more historically inclined. Frankly, e ere left quite cold by these tourist traps because of the huge crods. We South Indians are jaded by ancient temples anyay. Yet, one does feel a tinge of pride that this as once an extension of empires that expanded out of India, leaving an indelible mark on the region’s culture. We ere in search of the ‘tomb raider’ experience, and e found it Beng Maleah, in the midst of a jungle. It as a brooding place ith crumbling temples locked in mortal combat, ith trees and creepers groing out of every possible crevice. As usual a couple of local lads, eager to sho us ho to climb through the secret passages in the ruins, led the ay. We ere soon scrambling around in the fading light, climbing over giant creepers and looking over our shoulders nervously every no and then for no logical reason at all. Along the ay it struck us that there is a lot e can learn from the Khmers on ho to be happy. Their culture is relaxed and easygoing. No one is in a hurry. No one is trying to harass or judge you. It’s OK to have a good time, and even those ho can’t afford it, smile and do their on thing instead of getting frustrated. Perhaps being a Buddhist nation, the philosophy helps overcome the frustration. Or it’s a result of the terrible tragedies they have had to suffer. For more information on the Tomb Raider adventure, go to www.indimotard.com

Photo Caption(s):The riders take a break near an abandoned dam Courtesy: Sanjay Joseph