Were I so inclined, I swear I could've brought a loaded AK-47, an Asian love slave, a barrel-o'-heroin, and a live hippopotamus (whose stomach was full of AK-47's and barrels-o'-heroin) across the Cambodian border. The customs process consisted of a) choosing which bags to have checked (leaving the rest on your bus, if you so wished) b) walking through one "scanning" checkpoint, with no one inspecting the contents of your bag or your person, and c) having your passport stamped by your bus driver and getting back on the bus. Absurd. Insane. Pretty heffin' dangerous. Oh also, this happened:
"Never thought I'd be on a boat..." at least not while I was still on a bus. With Cambodia apparently lacking adequate bridges1, when we had to cross rivers on two occasions, we were whisked across by hardly imposing "barges" that would probably fit nicely on half of what would be considered a barge most places in the world. As scary as crossing was, disembarking was when I was really losing it. Safely, shockingly, we completed this process twice after entering Cambodia.
1 - And also adequate barges, but who's counting?
This is taken from my bus. Which is next to a car. Both of which are on a boat.
"Never thought I'd be on a boat..." at least not while I was still on a bus. With Cambodia apparently lacking adequate bridges1, when we had to cross rivers on two occasions, we were whisked across by hardly imposing "barges" that would probably fit nicely on half of what would be considered a barge most places in the world. As scary as crossing was, disembarking was when I was really losing it. Safely, shockingly, we completed this process twice after entering Cambodia.
1 - And also adequate barges, but who's counting?
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