e had one more stop to make before leaving Phnom Penh for the southern coast of Cambodia. “New Hope for Cambodian Children” was an orphanage ran by an American couple John and Cathy Tucker. The orphanage had roughly 150 children ages 2 to 18, all of them infected with the HIV virus. You could make out that some of the children were sick by the physical scars marking their bodies; John told us they were the ones who just arrived and only recently started medication. With the proper medication AIDS was no longer a death sentence but a chronic disease where patience could pretty much live a normal life. The issue is not with the advance of medication but the high cost of it, restricting many from treatment. With many benefactors, Bill Clinton being one of them, NHCC provides all the children with proper medication so they may go on living a regular life.
The orphanage was a small self-contain community within itself. Inside the compound existed a school, housing for the children, small hospital, kitchen, a dinning hall, basketball courts and various playing fields - even a mini farm with contraption for turning pig manure into bio-fuel. Almost all of the children there contracted AIDS through their parent. Walking through their dormitories I was sadden by pictures of their deceased parent on the bedroom walls – they all looked so young, probably in their early twenties. Altogether the children where yearning for love - they would come up and hug me for very long time. I was taken aback by this since you hardly ever see Asians expressing their love physically in public.
We spent the morning and afternoon with the children – in their classrooms, dinning in the mess hall, playing in the fields. I learned a lot about AIDS that day and the saddest thing was although people with AIDS can now live a pretty normal life under proper medication, most still couldn’t afford the high prices of admission. It was promising to see people like John and Cathy Tucker, leaving their comfortable life in America, coming to Cambodia and setting up the “New Hope for Cambodian Children” orphanage to help these children. Before leaving we handed out chocolates and candies to all the children - I was very happy when one of the volunteers told us it meant a lot to these children that we had spent that day with them. Although it wasn’t much, I felt I was doing my part in helping the infected children of this world.
We left the orphanage around 3:00 pm heading south on HW NH3 for the seaside town of Kep. The first 100 km was no different from what we had earlier encountered riding in Cambodia: many potholes, narrow two-lane road – overall, not very stimulating. However, once passed Angk Tasaom things turned for the better. The roads improved, there were less traffic and pretty soon the scenery became stunning – as I mentioned earlier, Cambodia was always surprising me.
As usual Hui and I were ahead of the crew and got lost. We came upon a Y intersection where we were supposed to turn left on to the NH33. However, we turned right instead, continuing on the NH3 heading for the town of Kampot, 24km west of Kep. It was nightfall when we finally arrived in Kep.
The seaside resort town of Kep was founded as a retreat for the French elite in 1908. Rich Cambodian continued the tradition, retreating to Kep until the war in the late 1960’s. Twenty years of war and famine left much of Kep in destruction with little remaining. However, a few sights of interest were large abandon villas, built in Modernistic style, scattering along the beachfront. It was strange seeing these large empty houses lining the ocean front - I would had imagine Malibu looking like this back in the 30’s and 40’s.
After spending a day in Kep we were back on the NH3 continuing our journey west for Sihanoukville. However, there was one stop I wanted to make and it was the Bokor Hill Station located 1080 meters above sea level inside Bokor Natural Park, 41 km west of Kampot. I had heard much about this one of a kind place. The French Hill Station was established some 90 years ago - in 1925 a grand colonial hotel, the Bokor Palace, was built - it reminded me a lot of the movie “The Shining.” The Hill was abandoned twice, once in the 1940 and again in the early 1970 when the Khmer Rouge was gaining power in the countryside.
As we were riding up the hill I kept thinking it better be worth it, being it was my idea to make this detour from our tight schedule. After nearly 2 hours, the winding road finally emerged on to a plateau where we came upon an empty abandon French town. I am not overstating when saying the Bokor Hill Station was one of the most mind-blowing places I had been to. The station now resembles a ghost-town with empty hotel, casino, temples, a Catholic church and a water tower that looked like an alien flying saucer. Standing 50 meters away from the Bokor Palace, when the clouds came in, the building would literally disappear in front of your eyes; it was one of the most amazing events I had ever seen.
We spent over an hour filming the dreamlike place and enjoying the cool weather high up in the mountains. I heard some conglomerate had just got the concession to redevelop the town; my hope was they do not turn Bokor Hill into some quasi tourist attraction. At least I was happy we were among the last few to see Bokor in its glorious abandon state.
On the whole, Cambodia was a country that managed to surprise me all the time. On the surface there seemed to be nothing; yet, once you look beyond the facade you will find some incredible treasures. Next week we ride the last leg of our journey to Sihanoukville, crossing back into Thailand at Trat and ultimately ending our month and a half long trip back in Bangkok.
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