One hot afternoon (ha ha, there all hot) we were getting a little antsy in Otres Village, Cambodia so we decided to rent a motorbike from our amiable hotel host and take a ride into Sihanoukville, which is the bustling heart of the Cambodian coast. I was particularly interested in finding a legit market to pick up some fruit and other exotic treats. This was my first time driving a motorbike on this trip and I was a slightly nervous about injecting myself into the flow of traffic in the city, but I knew it wouldn’t be a problem once I just did it.
After cruising around the beaches and looking at all the little resorts we headed into the city to seek out the central market – a place where we were unlikely to see many tourists. As we drew nearer the market I pulled in at a small grocery store, partly to give my nerves a rest and partly to see if we could find some chili sauce that was actually spicy. Fern and I have both developed a serious craving for spicy food but, surprisingly, much of the food we were served had little heat to it and when we asked for hot sauce they would bring out this orange sauce that is basically ketchup with a little bit of chili pepper in it.
I parked the bike in the crowded little lot and we gathered up our stuff. We had a nice look around the store and I think Fern got some prunes or something. As we walked back out to the parking area I was feeling around in my pockets but not finding what I was looking for. I looked in all the pockets of my bag too – no key. Where did I put the key? I checked every possible place that a key would be stashed. Nothing. Fern looked at me with a very special look on her face that said something like “Oh my god, what have you gotten us into?”
Suddenly both of us started trying to imagine how we were going to deal with this situation and there just wasn’t going to be a nice tidy solution. We would need to call the hotel and tell Paul that we had lost the key to his bike. But first we would need to find internet access so we could find the phone number, and then we would need to gain access to a functioning phone. Then who knows? Would he have a spare key? Would he have to come all the way into town? Would we have to call a locksmith and wait while they made a new key? A couple of things we were sure of – this was going to be embarrassing, and it was going to take a long time. So much for our relaxing afternoon cruising around. So much for fresh fruit and exotic treats.
As we were standing there going over the possibilities and looking around at every little crevice and shadow on the ground a man walked over to us. He was probably in his fifties and wearing a uniform of some sort – could be police, could be military. He held out his hand and in it was the key. I don’t think he spoke much English. He just handed it to me and then went back to his post, standing there watching over things. What a huge relief! We thanked him profusely and gave ourselves a moment to let all the unpleasant thoughts leak out of our brains. I must have dropped the key on the ground while getting our belongings off the bike and this nice security guard or policeman or soldier or whatever he was found it and waited until he was sure who it belonged to. He may have waited a little longer than necessary just for his own amusement but I forgive him.
That man could have easily kept the bike for himself or sold it to someone. What are the chances of finding a stolen motorbike in Cambodia? Right. His honesty was touching. We eventually stopped thanking him and got on our way to the market, fresh fruit, exotic treats, and a nice relaxing afternoon.
jim@snorkelbandits.com