The Mountain

"One beer?", the barman asks. "Yes, please", my standard reply.

I sit alone at the Blisful bar. So this it. Failure. I tried really hard. It didn't work. Spend the entire afternoon looking for a tour to take me up Bokor Mountain. No luck. Everywhere the same story. Rainy season. Bad weather. No tourists. Tomorrow no, maybe the day after. Well, I'm not going to sit around for another day. I'm just going to finish this beer, walk across the street and buy a bus ticket back to Snooky. There are choices that have to be made. The solitary, intrepid traveller is a nice dream. But it's not me. Dreaming is easy, doing is too hard. I'm not that strong. Return to Snooky, apologize to Daria and stay with her for as long as she'll want me to. Just keep doing what I'm doing. Forget self-fulfillment, the meaning of life, true love and the Greater Good. My options are limited. I'm a simple dude. I know my limitations. At least, in Snooky I'm not alone.

Lost in these dark thoughts, I almost didn't notice a blond, white girl coming over to the bar and asking for the phone. I hear her say the the magic word.
Bokor
Really? Did I hear that right? I hesitate.
Can I? Should I? Then I gather whatever little courage I have left and ask:
"Euhmm, excuse me, euhh... Bokor? The Mountain? You're going to Bokor Mountain tomorrow?"
"Yes", was her friendly reply. We even chatted a while. Her name's Lisa. A blond, white girl from California. An unexpected turn of events. I always thought a deus ex machina was strictly reserved for bad script writers. The simple fact that I'm having this conversations seemed utterly impossible less than 5 minutes ago. The words of the cow flash through my mind: "You gotta dance" I ask if I may join her, take out my phone and book a ticket.

Bokor Mountain is a National Park just over the river from Kampot. It's a spectacular 1000m up from sea-level. On the top, there are the ruins of a casino build by the French. In the sixties King Sihanouk reopened it. Later on a Khmer Rouge stronghold until the late nineties. There are many rumors and stories about Bokor. A lot of bad shit happened up there. Nowadays, that creepy atmosphere is somewhat gone as they started rebuilding the casino. That doesn't matter much to me. I've been longing to go up there since 2004. Family life in Snooky always got in the way. This time nothing holds me back no more. This time I'll get up the mountain and leave the ghosts from my Cambodian past behind.

The next morning a mini-bus picks us (us as in 'Lisa and I') up and together with another eight people we start the drive. A group op ten, that's very crowded. Groups and I don't mix. So I just let the conversations go by and stare out of the window. It takes ages before we reach the top. Especially because our guide insists on making lots of stops at places I don't care about. For me it's just about the top.

On the third stop the guide starts speaking about wading through a river to a beautiful waterfall. He must be joking, right? That's more than I can handle. I've only got the casino on my mind. While the rest of the group takes off their shoes and rolls up their trousers I ask if they come back the same way.
"Yes but really beautiful waterfall", answers the guide.
"I'll wait", I say, light a cigarette and sit down on a rock. The group looks at me in disgust and wades of to the waterfall. Listen, I didn't escape a troublesome relationship just to get in different spots where I have to do shit I don't want or don't care about. Fuck groups. I'm my own dog now. I've seen enough waterfalls. Anyway, thanks to this little rebellion the rest of the group ignores me for the rest of the day. Perfect. At the following stops, I just wander around on my own while they cling to the guide like a group of sheep to the herder.

At last, after hours and hours of anticipation we reach the top. It's clear weather. The view over the Cambodian coastline is breathtaking. I leave the group behind and run off to the ruined casino. I made it! The only place along the Cambodian coast I've never been before. I sit on a rock and look at the casino for a long, long time. Of course, it's far less spectacular than in my dreams but that's irrelevant. I did it. I conquered the mountain. I escaped. I've been dreaming about this for seven years.

Up on Bokor Mountain, at last.
There's no going back to Snooky after this.
Time to throw my ghosts over the cliff and start a-fresh.

The end. Now let's get down before the rain comes in. Unfortunately, with groups it's not that easy. We are supposed to, at least partly, hike down. Fuck me. People don't belong in the jungle. It's were the animals live. Anyway, this time I decide to tread along. It's a new beginning after all. So we all hike down a tiny jungle trail while dark clouds roll over Bokor. At times I hardly see anything, stumbling over fallen down trees, slipping and sliding on the muddy trail. A misty jungle is not a happy place. Soon I'm soaking wet. The humidity is disgusting. I'm sweating like a feverish pig. Not my idea of a nice afternoon. But hey, suffer long enough and the simple pleasure of just seeing a paved road can fill you with warm, fuzzy happiness. The best part of the jungle is getting out of it.

The tour continues on. Back on the road, the guide and driver help to get the leeches of our arms and legs (I only got one, not bad). Then it's back in the bus and on to the river for a sunset boat trip. At least this part is easy. Drinking cold beer while the tiny fishing boat slowly goes upriver. Nothing but jungle and hills all around. I feel relaxed, happy almost.

It's well after dark when we return to Kampot. Lisa and I walk back to Blissful Guesthouse together. She goes up to her room. I take a well deserved shower and return to my usual spot at the bar. Shortly after Lisa joins me and we have a few beers together. Then we go for dinner at a roadside stall. It sure is nice to take a blond Californian girl out. Alas, strictly for bragging rights. She keeps telling the same stories over and over again. I don't have much to add. When we return to the bar, she tells me to wait for her while she goes up to her room for a moment, I feel somewhat relieved. A cold beer on my own, at last! Half way through the third beer I realize that she's not coming back. Oh well, that's fine by me. Girls only lead to trouble, after all. It was a good day.

Bokor mountain took me far beyond (what I thought to be) my own limitations.
Maybe there's a life for me away from Snooky after all...