Has Anyone Run the Train from BKK to Aranyaphrathet recently?

[Yagoda]

I did it once ages ago, and I know Poipet isnt the favorite of the great unwashed border bouncers, but has anyone run the train recently? I feel like going to Bangkok and hate sitting on the bus or dealing with the airport. You can walk up and down the isle in the train, smoke weed and watch the cane fields.

[QEDDEQ]

I did it last May. I wrote a trip report.

I was traveling alone with 50kg of baggage. My flight landed BKK at 0500.
The train to Aranyaprathet departs Lat Krabang State Railways of
Thailand (SRT) station at 0650 (0555 departure from Hua Lampong - its
origin point).
Went to the short trip taxi point at BKK. Driver explained I must pay
50+40 baht surcharge for airport and baggage fee. I agreed. I explained I
did not want the airport link train. We found that the road that runs
adjacent to the ground level train tracks at Lat Krabang is totally walled
off from pedestrians, you can only go up to the airport link. We drove
around to the other side (not easy) and the path to the tracks on that
side was also walled off. Puzzling because I have seen passengers waiting
on the ground level station when standing on the airport link station.
The driver talks with his friend on the phone. He decides to go to “Lat
Krabang Techno”. The station there is called Hua Khe.
On arrival, it is easy to drive up to the tracks, but on the south side only. I
buy a ticket for Aranya from the very friendly and smiling clerk, cost 44
baht. Train departure 0703, from the northern side (Thai trains drive on
the left). Luckily no bridge to cross, just walk across the tracks.
The train arrives on time, a big diesel loco pulling seven third class
carriages. It thunders into the station, I’m thinking it won’t stop - but
then the driver stands on the brakes and with a deafening screech of
metal on metal, it shudders to a halt.
Hua Khe is the boarding point for the sellers who ply their bizarre-looking
snacks on the train. Nearly all women, they lug what were once white
buckets and plastic bags of drinks and comestibles along the aisles of the
carriages, gently bumping into passengers as they pass. One of these
ladies was shortly going to save my life but at Hua Khe station they
presented quite an obstacle to me boarding the train. There is no
platform there so I had to throw my bags up through the permanently
open door. The problem was these ladies climbed onto the stairs and did
not move. With 50kg of baggage, I was not in a position to run to the next

carriage door. After some increasingly desperate shouting from me, they
finally noticed my predicament and moved inside. I threw the bags
onboard, climbed over them and, with one almighty lurch, we were
immediately on the move.
My next concern was whether the rocking of the train would propel a bag
from my mountain of luggage out through the open door so I grabbed
them as fast as I could and threw them into the aisle of the train.
Exhausted and stressed, I looked up. The carriage was about half full.
About 20 Thai faces were looking at me with a bored look of mild
interest. Nobody smiled but nobody looked hostile. Many wore masks so
there was no way of telling what they felt about the scene.
I looked around for a place to stash my bags. This was not a carriage
designed for large amounts of luggage. The seats were groups of four,
facing each other, all with 90 degree angled seats, so there was no space
to slide bags between the backs of them. There were, however, long rows
of empty metal luggage racks that looked sturdy and capacious. It was
not easy lifting heavy bags onto them because the carriage lurched from
side to side as the train gathered speed - but it was the only way as the
aisles were not wide and I could not block them as sellers were already in
sight shuffling along with their wares.
The widows were all open and there were metal blinds that could in
theory be lowered to block the sun. In practice, they just provided an
interesting challenge for anyone who got bored enough to attempt to
shift them. They would angle sideways and jam if you tried ro lower
them.
There was a set of four seats nearby with only one occupant so I sat
opposite the young woman there. I sat on the north side with my back to
the engine. The woman opposite me was borderline obese, wore entirely
black clothing and her short hair was dyed an interesting shade of pinky
orange. She was getting the sun in her face whereas I was not - I suppose

she had chosen her seat because she really liked to sit facing forward.
Four hours later, she alighted at Sa Keo having spent the entire journey
squinting downwards at the sun’s rays. She did not ever look at me once
or even look up at all. She clutched her small backpack to her bosom and
looked at her phone or just stared at the ground.
I quickly discovered that with 90 degree angle seats, the only sustainable
sitting position is to sit bolt upright. Looking up, I observed a regular
procession of sellers but there were few customers at this early stage of
the journey. I did not need them as I had what I thought was an ample
supply of drinking water. Apart from the loud metallic rattling of the
train’s movements, it was quiet in the carriage. Nobody made phone calls
or played music - hardly anyone even spoke. Mostly they just looked
blankly out of the open windows. In my sleep-deprived state, I was
starting to feel I had shifted into some parallel universe. Eventually after
about four hours, one of them finally smiled but much was to happen
before that.
State Railways of Thailand train number 275 departs Hua Lampong
station in Bangkok every day at 0555. It is the last remaining long distance
journey to depart Bangkok from Hua Lamphong, most now use the soulless
new station at Bang Sue. There are 43 stops before it arrives at Ban Klong
Luk, the station at the Cambodian border, 261km away, an average speed
on 48.6kph, including stops. It is timed to arrive at the border at 1117. It is
one of only two trains that make that journey, in each direction. The train
from the border towards Bangkok departs at 0658, so the two trains pass
each other at some point.
The train stopped every 5-10 minutes, always the same process of the
driver running it into the station at full speed and then braking sharply. The
stops were brief, sometimes only ten seconds. It was pleasant in the
carriage. The sun was not yet powerful and the breeze from the open
windows was strong. There were fans on the ceiling which all worked but
none of them rotated as a unit, so you had to be directly under one to get

the benefit. As they were all situated in the center of the ceiling, nobody got
the benefit as they were blowing down onto the middle of the aisles.
Soon after 0900 the train pulled into Praachantakham. This time it did not
immediately resume its journey. It stayed silent and unmoving, nobody
spoke. The silence was novel after two hours of almost constant loud
metallic rattling. The temperature in the carriage rose rapidly. The minutes
passed. It started to get hot and uncomfortable. Finally after about 15
minutes the stationmaster emerged from his office in his smart khaki
uniform and peaked cap. SRT stationmasters basically look like Thai cops,
but the uniforms are not so tight. He was carrying a red flag and a green
flag. Gradually a distant sound of an emerging train pierced the silence and
then a train thundered into the station, followed by the customary
screeching of brakes. The man on the points was no slacker, because only
a few seconds passed before we moved away. I think that the tracks are
dual up to Pracin Buri but it’s single track beyond there.
Now that we had got hot, the breeze no longer seemed sufficient. My water
had got warm and I finished it. I started to feel the effects of 15 hours of
flying, lack of sleep and jetlag. I stopped a passing seller with a bucket of
drinks in a small amount of ice. I bought a small bottle of water for 10 baht
but I really really needed coffee. I needed it black and without bucketfuls of
sugar. She showed me her selection of small cans, some Birdy, some
Nescafe. I found one that was black and low sugar. I bought three cans.
This was a lifesaver for me. They cost 20 baht each. These Thai sellers
were not gouging me.
Nothing much happened at the stations, just a few got off and on. The
stationmaster would give his big beautiful big brass bell a vigorous ring and
off we would go. But at Kabin Buri there was a substantial crowd on the
platform. The stationmaster had them well drilled, they all stood so far back
from the train that I wondered if they really were intending passengers.
They were. The train changed from being half full to 80% full. But nobody
chose to sit next to, or opposite, the only falang. Several stops up the line,
most of them got off at a small station in the middle of nowhere and

plodded towards some wooden benches, carrying bags of stuff to sell. A
rural market.
The benefit of the coffees was starting to wear off by 1030 but we were
near the end by then and that was about the time I noticed the first smile
from a fellow passenger. Gradually this evolved into increasingly excited
chatter. At Aranya, touts got on board to sell their services but they weren’t
interested in me, they targeted the Cambodian passengers.
For me, at least I did not have to think about the train pulling away quickly
at the border station terminus, so I let everyone get off first. My beloved
wife (BW) awaited me on the Poipet side of the border and I asked her to
hire a porter on that side to come to the train. I got my bags and boxes off
the train and dropped them down onto the side of the train (no raised
platform here either). I spotted my porter and he eagerly rushed up and
somehow staggered off with almost all of the collection. I followed him and
very soon we arrived at the entrance to Thai immigration. He waved me in
that direction and disappeared off separately with his shiny new cart. I
would not see him again.
Thai immigration for foreigners at this border involves going up one floor.
There was a tired-looking escalator which was not working. At the top of
the stairs was a large room with good air-conditioning. Two of the booths
were occupied by officers. There was a line of about 30 people, mostly
Khmers. The unsmiling officials were processing people quickly and after
about ten minutes I was walking down the stairs at the back of the building.
You have a short walk across no man’s land ,which is mostly a bridge over
a plastic-strewn small river.
Cambodian immigration also involves a walk up one floor for foreigners.
This room had a desk for people who needed to get a visa on arrival and a
desk that issued the immigration cards. They did not charge for the cards
but you had to line up to request one from the officer. At another place they
sold pens for 20 baht for those who had not brought their own. There was
no line at the visa-issuing desk but there was a line of about 100 people for

the stamping in. Almost all were Thais, maybe ten barangs. The line moved
slowly and it was hot in that room. I heard that you can pay to jump the
queue and the officials were not unhappy to see a long line build up and for
the room to be hot. I am sure this was a scurrilous lie.
It took about 30 minutes to get to the front. Once stamped in, it was down
the back stairs and into Cambodia. BW was there with my bags. The porter
had long gone. He had charged $5 because the bags were so heavy. An
ingratiatingly smiling tout (IST) had attached himself to BW. We considered
spending one night in Poipet, partly out of curiosity and partly due to my
exhausted state. IST declared he knew the perfect hotel which baranags
always liked. An Indian tuktuk was summoned and somehow all the bags
and boxes were loaded onto the back and we climbed inside (cost $2).
We rode for about 1 km to a dingey place with a disinterested manager. I
was asked to pay 900 baht for one night. I asked to see the room. It looked
like a 450 baht room to me and I declined it. We decided to press onto
Battambang where there are better hotels. No problem says IST, and within
30 seconds a Toyota Camry has pulled up. IST wants me to pay $40, I say
$30, he says $35, I say $30. He says OK and our bags get loaded into the
Camry. Then a heated discussion ensues between the driver and IST. It
turns out IST wants to keep $15 of the $30 for himself. The driver takes a
dim view of this, IST won’t budge so it culminates in the driver throwing our
bags back out of the car. I declare I will go to the road and hire my own taxi.
“No, no, no” says IST and we end up with an arrangement whereby BW
and I both pay $7.50 each and the driver can also pick up a regular
passenger who he does not want to let down. BW gives IST $2.50 tip and
the driver very begrudgingly gives him another $2.50, along with some
choice Khmer curses. It occurs to me that IST was also going to take 50%
of the hotel room charge if we had decided to stay there.
We ride up some very bumpy roads to pick up the other passenger and off
we go. I am in my customary place in a shared taxi, the front passenger
seat. I award the Camry first place for a comfortable front seat, slightly
ahead of the Highlander and Lexus LX200 and much better than the

Alphard and quite a lot better than the Sienna and Starex. The driver was
good and I fell into a succession of short sleeps, which refreshed me
greatly. I find a nice place to stay online for $42 including breakfast. When
we get there (the Cabana Riviere) it exceeded my expectations as the
online surveys like to put it. Enjoyed one night of wedded bliss with BW.
In the morning, after an excellent breakfast, we think about the next stage
of our journey. It would be easy to go to Phnom Penh from here but we go
to Kampong Chhnang where we have a house. The house is bang on NR5,
so it’s easy to reach by shared taxi. We have had enough of middlemen so
we take a PassApp tuktuk to a spot on NR5 as it leaves the southern edge
of town, just beyond the Peacebird statue. The fare was $1.50. Sure
enough, on arrival we were mobbed by drivers who were hanging there
waiting for passengers. An Alphard was selected, the driver agreed to
depart immediately and the fare was agreed at $12.50 for me (in the front
seat) and $10 for BW.
We did depart immediately but we did a U-turn and headed back into town.
The driver needed to pick up one more passenger. He had an address
which proved difficult to locate. No assistance was forthcoming on the
phone or on the street from the customer. We finally found the house and
discovered the reason for that. She had gone shopping and her family had
no idea when she would return. The driver and one male passenger sat on
the curb and smoked cigarettes in the drizzling rain. One hour later the
shopper appeared and we set off. It occurred to me that you know you’ve
made Cambodia your home when this sort of thing does not annoy.
The only problem now was there was still one vacant seat so we were
going to suffer from ESS (empty seat syndrome). ESS meant the driver
would slow down and sound his horn a lot at every junction along the way.
Using the Pursat and Kampong Chhnang by-pass roads was out of the
question because he needed to look for the elusive final passenger. He
never found one but he did get a small package in Kg Chhnang that he was
given $1.25 for to deliver to Oudongk.

Somewhere along the NR5 road (now a splendid four lane dual
carriageway), the driver held up his phone and filmed the oncoming road.
He was making a video to bemoan the fact that there were no vehicles on
the road. It was true, we had not passed anything in either direction for a
while. Driver said this was due to people having no money to pay for travel
at the moment. The journey took about four hours in all and that merits a
toilet break. There was a Cafe Amazon and I bought a strong, rough-tasting
black coffee. The front seat in the Alphard was cramped but tolerable and
the driver was good and a nice guy.
We arrived at the house where I slept one night before progressing alone
for the final stage of my journey to Phnom Penh.

[josephbloggs]

33 minutes ago, QEDDEQ said:

I did it last May. I wrote a trip report.

I was traveling alone with 50kg of baggage. My flight landed BKK at 0500.
The train to Aranyaprathet departs Lat Krabang State Railways of
Thailand (SRT) station at 0650 (0555 departure from Hua Lampong - its
origin point).
Went to the short trip taxi point at BKK. Driver explained I must pay
50+40 baht surcharge for airport and baggage fee. I agreed. I explained I
did not want the airport link train. We found that the road that runs
adjacent to the ground level train tracks at Lat Krabang is totally walled
off from pedestrians, you can only go up to the airport link. We drove
around to the other side (not easy) and the path to the tracks on that
side was also walled off. Puzzling because I have seen passengers waiting
on the ground level station when standing on the airport link station.
The driver talks with his friend on the phone. He decides to go to “Lat
Krabang Techno”. The station there is called Hua Khe.
On arrival, it is easy to drive up to the tracks, but on the south side only. I
buy a ticket for Aranya from the very friendly and smiling clerk, cost 44
baht. Train departure 0703, from the northern side (Thai trains drive on
the left). Luckily no bridge to cross, just walk across the tracks.
The train arrives on time, a big diesel loco pulling seven third class
carriages. It thunders into the station, I’m thinking it won’t stop - but
then the driver stands on the brakes and with a deafening screech of
metal on metal, it shudders to a halt.
Hua Khe is the boarding point for the sellers who ply their bizarre-looking
snacks on the train. Nearly all women, they lug what were once white
buckets and plastic bags of drinks and comestibles along the aisles of the
carriages, gently bumping into passengers as they pass. One of these
ladies was shortly going to save my life but at Hua Khe station they
presented quite an obstacle to me boarding the train. There is no
platform there so I had to throw my bags up through the permanently
open door. The problem was these ladies climbed onto the stairs and did
not move. With 50kg of baggage, I was not in a position to run to the next

carriage door. After some increasingly desperate shouting from me, they
finally noticed my predicament and moved inside. I threw the bags
onboard, climbed over them and, with one almighty lurch, we were
immediately on the move.
My next concern was whether the rocking of the train would propel a bag
from my mountain of luggage out through the open door so I grabbed
them as fast as I could and threw them into the aisle of the train.
Exhausted and stressed, I looked up. The carriage was about half full.
About 20 Thai faces were looking at me with a bored look of mild
interest. Nobody smiled but nobody looked hostile. Many wore masks so
there was no way of telling what they felt about the scene.
I looked around for a place to stash my bags. This was not a carriage
designed for large amounts of luggage. The seats were groups of four,
facing each other, all with 90 degree angled seats, so there was no space
to slide bags between the backs of them. There were, however, long rows
of empty metal luggage racks that looked sturdy and capacious. It was
not easy lifting heavy bags onto them because the carriage lurched from
side to side as the train gathered speed - but it was the only way as the
aisles were not wide and I could not block them as sellers were already in
sight shuffling along with their wares.
The widows were all open and there were metal blinds that could in
theory be lowered to block the sun. In practice, they just provided an
interesting challenge for anyone who got bored enough to attempt to
shift them. They would angle sideways and jam if you tried ro lower
them.
There was a set of four seats nearby with only one occupant so I sat
opposite the young woman there. I sat on the north side with my back to
the engine. The woman opposite me was borderline obese, wore entirely
black clothing and her short hair was dyed an interesting shade of pinky
orange. She was getting the sun in her face whereas I was not - I suppose

she had chosen her seat because she really liked to sit facing forward.
Four hours later, she alighted at Sa Keo having spent the entire journey
squinting downwards at the sun’s rays. She did not ever look at me once
or even look up at all. She clutched her small backpack to her bosom and
looked at her phone or just stared at the ground.
I quickly discovered that with 90 degree angle seats, the only sustainable
sitting position is to sit bolt upright. Looking up, I observed a regular
procession of sellers but there were few customers at this early stage of
the journey. I did not need them as I had what I thought was an ample
supply of drinking water. Apart from the loud metallic rattling of the
train’s movements, it was quiet in the carriage. Nobody made phone calls
or played music - hardly anyone even spoke. Mostly they just looked
blankly out of the open windows. In my sleep-deprived state, I was
starting to feel I had shifted into some parallel universe. Eventually after
about four hours, one of them finally smiled but much was to happen
before that.
State Railways of Thailand train number 275 departs Hua Lampong
station in Bangkok every day at 0555. It is the last remaining long distance
journey to depart Bangkok from Hua Lamphong, most now use the soulless
new station at Bang Sue. There are 43 stops before it arrives at Ban Klong
Luk, the station at the Cambodian border, 261km away, an average speed
on 48.6kph, including stops. It is timed to arrive at the border at 1117. It is
one of only two trains that make that journey, in each direction. The train
from the border towards Bangkok departs at 0658, so the two trains pass
each other at some point.
The train stopped every 5-10 minutes, always the same process of the
driver running it into the station at full speed and then braking sharply. The
stops were brief, sometimes only ten seconds. It was pleasant in the
carriage. The sun was not yet powerful and the breeze from the open
windows was strong. There were fans on the ceiling which all worked but
none of them rotated as a unit, so you had to be directly under one to get

the benefit. As they were all situated in the center of the ceiling, nobody got
the benefit as they were blowing down onto the middle of the aisles.
Soon after 0900 the train pulled into Praachantakham. This time it did not
immediately resume its journey. It stayed silent and unmoving, nobody
spoke. The silence was novel after two hours of almost constant loud
metallic rattling. The temperature in the carriage rose rapidly. The minutes
passed. It started to get hot and uncomfortable. Finally after about 15
minutes the stationmaster emerged from his office in his smart khaki
uniform and peaked cap. SRT stationmasters basically look like Thai cops,
but the uniforms are not so tight. He was carrying a red flag and a green
flag. Gradually a distant sound of an emerging train pierced the silence and
then a train thundered into the station, followed by the customary
screeching of brakes. The man on the points was no slacker, because only
a few seconds passed before we moved away. I think that the tracks are
dual up to Pracin Buri but it’s single track beyond there.
Now that we had got hot, the breeze no longer seemed sufficient. My water
had got warm and I finished it. I started to feel the effects of 15 hours of
flying, lack of sleep and jetlag. I stopped a passing seller with a bucket of
drinks in a small amount of ice. I bought a small bottle of water for 10 baht
but I really really needed coffee. I needed it black and without bucketfuls of
sugar. She showed me her selection of small cans, some Birdy, some
Nescafe. I found one that was black and low sugar. I bought three cans.
This was a lifesaver for me. They cost 20 baht each. These Thai sellers
were not gouging me.
Nothing much happened at the stations, just a few got off and on. The
stationmaster would give his big beautiful big brass bell a vigorous ring and
off we would go. But at Kabin Buri there was a substantial crowd on the
platform. The stationmaster had them well drilled, they all stood so far back
from the train that I wondered if they really were intending passengers.
They were. The train changed from being half full to 80% full. But nobody
chose to sit next to, or opposite, the only falang. Several stops up the line,
most of them got off at a small station in the middle of nowhere and

plodded towards some wooden benches, carrying bags of stuff to sell. A
rural market.
The benefit of the coffees was starting to wear off by 1030 but we were
near the end by then and that was about the time I noticed the first smile
from a fellow passenger. Gradually this evolved into increasingly excited
chatter. At Aranya, touts got on board to sell their services but they weren’t
interested in me, they targeted the Cambodian passengers.
For me, at least I did not have to think about the train pulling away quickly
at the border station terminus, so I let everyone get off first. My beloved
wife (BW) awaited me on the Poipet side of the border and I asked her to
hire a porter on that side to come to the train. I got my bags and boxes off
the train and dropped them down onto the side of the train (no raised
platform here either). I spotted my porter and he eagerly rushed up and
somehow staggered off with almost all of the collection. I followed him and
very soon we arrived at the entrance to Thai immigration. He waved me in
that direction and disappeared off separately with his shiny new cart. I
would not see him again.
Thai immigration for foreigners at this border involves going up one floor.
There was a tired-looking escalator which was not working. At the top of
the stairs was a large room with good air-conditioning. Two of the booths
were occupied by officers. There was a line of about 30 people, mostly
Khmers. The unsmiling officials were processing people quickly and after
about ten minutes I was walking down the stairs at the back of the building.
You have a short walk across no man’s land ,which is mostly a bridge over
a plastic-strewn small river.
Cambodian immigration also involves a walk up one floor for foreigners.
This room had a desk for people who needed to get a visa on arrival and a
desk that issued the immigration cards. They did not charge for the cards
but you had to line up to request one from the officer. At another place they
sold pens for 20 baht for those who had not brought their own. There was
no line at the visa-issuing desk but there was a line of about 100 people for

the stamping in. Almost all were Thais, maybe ten barangs. The line moved
slowly and it was hot in that room. I heard that you can pay to jump the
queue and the officials were not unhappy to see a long line build up and for
the room to be hot. I am sure this was a scurrilous lie.
It took about 30 minutes to get to the front. Once stamped in, it was down
the back stairs and into Cambodia. BW was there with my bags. The porter
had long gone. He had charged $5 because the bags were so heavy. An
ingratiatingly smiling tout (IST) had attached himself to BW. We considered
spending one night in Poipet, partly out of curiosity and partly due to my
exhausted state. IST declared he knew the perfect hotel which baranags
always liked. An Indian tuktuk was summoned and somehow all the bags
and boxes were loaded onto the back and we climbed inside (cost $2).
We rode for about 1 km to a dingey place with a disinterested manager. I
was asked to pay 900 baht for one night. I asked to see the room. It looked
like a 450 baht room to me and I declined it. We decided to press onto
Battambang where there are better hotels. No problem says IST, and within
30 seconds a Toyota Camry has pulled up. IST wants me to pay $40, I say
$30, he says $35, I say $30. He says OK and our bags get loaded into the
Camry. Then a heated discussion ensues between the driver and IST. It
turns out IST wants to keep $15 of the $30 for himself. The driver takes a
dim view of this, IST won’t budge so it culminates in the driver throwing our
bags back out of the car. I declare I will go to the road and hire my own taxi.
“No, no, no” says IST and we end up with an arrangement whereby BW
and I both pay $7.50 each and the driver can also pick up a regular
passenger who he does not want to let down. BW gives IST $2.50 tip and
the driver very begrudgingly gives him another $2.50, along with some
choice Khmer curses. It occurs to me that IST was also going to take 50%
of the hotel room charge if we had decided to stay there.
We ride up some very bumpy roads to pick up the other passenger and off
we go. I am in my customary place in a shared taxi, the front passenger
seat. I award the Camry first place for a comfortable front seat, slightly
ahead of the Highlander and Lexus LX200 and much better than the

Alphard and quite a lot better than the Sienna and Starex. The driver was
good and I fell into a succession of short sleeps, which refreshed me
greatly. I find a nice place to stay online for $42 including breakfast. When
we get there (the Cabana Riviere) it exceeded my expectations as the
online surveys like to put it. Enjoyed one night of wedded bliss with BW.
In the morning, after an excellent breakfast, we think about the next stage
of our journey. It would be easy to go to Phnom Penh from here but we go
to Kampong Chhnang where we have a house. The house is bang on NR5,
so it’s easy to reach by shared taxi. We have had enough of middlemen so
we take a PassApp tuktuk to a spot on NR5 as it leaves the southern edge
of town, just beyond the Peacebird statue. The fare was $1.50. Sure
enough, on arrival we were mobbed by drivers who were hanging there
waiting for passengers. An Alphard was selected, the driver agreed to
depart immediately and the fare was agreed at $12.50 for me (in the front
seat) and $10 for BW.
We did depart immediately but we did a U-turn and headed back into town.
The driver needed to pick up one more passenger. He had an address
which proved difficult to locate. No assistance was forthcoming on the
phone or on the street from the customer. We finally found the house and
discovered the reason for that. She had gone shopping and her family had
no idea when she would return. The driver and one male passenger sat on
the curb and smoked cigarettes in the drizzling rain. One hour later the
shopper appeared and we set off. It occurred to me that you know you’ve
made Cambodia your home when this sort of thing does not annoy.
The only problem now was there was still one vacant seat so we were
going to suffer from ESS (empty seat syndrome). ESS meant the driver
would slow down and sound his horn a lot at every junction along the way.
Using the Pursat and Kampong Chhnang by-pass roads was out of the
question because he needed to look for the elusive final passenger. He
never found one but he did get a small package in Kg Chhnang that he was
given $1.25 for to deliver to Oudongk.

Somewhere along the NR5 road (now a splendid four lane dual
carriageway), the driver held up his phone and filmed the oncoming road.
He was making a video to bemoan the fact that there were no vehicles on
the road. It was true, we had not passed anything in either direction for a
while. Driver said this was due to people having no money to pay for travel
at the moment. The journey took about four hours in all and that merits a
toilet break. There was a Cafe Amazon and I bought a strong, rough-tasting
black coffee. The front seat in the Alphard was cramped but tolerable and
the driver was good and a nice guy.
We arrived at the house where I slept one night before progressing alone
for the final stage of my journey to Phnom Penh.

I enjoyed reading that. Personally there would be no way I would contemplate doing that after a long haul flight (or even with no long haul flight), but great story.