Double long tuk-tuk from Kampot to Kep
Our luck started when the driver I found to take us from Kampot to Kep happened to have the sweetest ride I have ever seen in Asia. It was the Cadillac of all Cambodian tuk-tuks with serious leg room, an extra long cabin with drapes and comfortable leather seats that was enviable enough to make the other tuk-tuk drivers stop and stare. Yes, we could have taken a cramped minibus with other hot smelly tourists for $6 each, or take the tuk-tuk and arrive in style for just $12! I can’t understand why anyone would opt for a minivan, especially not once they laid their eyes on our Kampot to Kep ride. It was such an unusual length for a tuk-tuk, almost like an Asian limo, and when we pulled into the central transport hub in Kep the other tuk-tuk drivers gathered around and asked to try driving it. Our driver, a man in his late fifties with kind eyes and a long pinkie fingernail, agreed to let them take turns circling the empty bus lot with only an occasional look of concern that one of them might floor it and disappear into the hills.
We arrived in Kep with no guidebook, no hotel booked, no idea where we wanted to stay, but with one thing very clear; we came here to eat crab. We noticed some guest houses just up from the beach in what some might quixotically refer to as the “center” of Kep. We went to the nearest guest house and asked about a room. I didn’t need to look at the $12 fan room overlooking the beach to know it would be just perfect. As long as I was eating crab in the next half hour just about any room would do. Still not ready to say goodbye to our driver, or his tuk-tuk, I asked if he’d be willing to take us around town for a few extra dollars. He seemed happy with the possibility to earn a bit more and for finally having a legitimate reason to regain his tuk-tuk which was still circling around us by curious local drivers all eager to give it a spin.
We continued on to the crab shacks, a collection of restaurants built of wood over the water next to the crab market. We choose a place called Kimly Restaurant, one of many in a row along the water serving seafood and most notably, fresh crab. We grabbed a table overlooking the water where you could see the women from the market walking out into the waist deep water to grab fresh crabs out of bamboo cages floating just off shore. It’s also possible to buy the crab directly from the market and have the women cook it there for you, but today, we opted for more VIP treatment.
Most of the people eating in Kimly were other foreigners and a table of local men who seemed to be on a business outing with a Korean client. It was fascinating to watch the way they ate. They somehow seemed to crack open and devour the crab without making nearly the mess I had on my table. Agile fingertips working their way into every last cavern; it was difficult not to stare despite the sunset taking place to my right. Eating here is an event. Everything from negotiating for the best price on the crab to which dishes should be eaten together. And watching this particular group interacting with their friends and with the seafood was fascinating.
Mats and hammocks for lounging by the sea
If you walk down toward the beach in the opposite direction from the crab market, you’ll find families camped out on mats and hammocks under thatched huts where they either bring their own food or order from the countless street stalls and women selling fruit, coconuts, and other local snacks. Where our idea of a fine dining experience usually includes sitting at a table, having someone serve us, and definitely a few fans overhead cooling us off, local Cambodians in general seem to flock to the shaded beach huts where they can kick off their shoes, bring their own selection of seafood and snacks, and spend long hours nibbling on a variety of items being sold within five minutes of where they are sitting.
If Kep were located anywhere else in he world, it seems that this quiet little seaside town would be swarming with tourists. But for the moment, Kep and the delicious crab that is so ubiquitous here seems like a hidden secret in a part of Cambodia that still sees relatively few visitors in comparison to places like Angkor or Phnom Penh. And for now, maybe this is a good thing.
