Penguin Books Blog » Cambodia

John van de Ruit writes you a letter…

admin — Wed, 24 Jun 2009 07:17:36 +0000

Dear Reader
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FRANKENSTEIN’S BACK!
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Man those luscious days in Cambodia and Thailand feel like some time ago now. In fact even the Cape Town Book Fair has receded
into the throbbing haze of talks, interviews and book signings. But let me resume from the very beginning and stagger forward in an orderly fashion.
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THE LAUNCH (JOZI PART 1)
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Armed with a decent suntan, three signing pens, and a bubbly SE Asian inspired mojo, I set off for Johannesburg unsure of what to expect…

To read further click hereÂ Â http://www.spud.penguinbooks.co.za/

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John van de Ruit- Journal Entry May 28th

admin — Fri, 29 May 2009 05:18:20 +0000

THE END OF THE ROAD
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Time is a trickster. One minute you stand with weeks stretched out before you, and the next the looming and predictable dead end casts a shadow across the face. Weirdly, Cambodia feels like it was the previous year and i can barely remember Kuala Lumpur at all, and may have to re-read my first blog to feel who i was back then. The added bonus to traveling for unseemly amounts of time, is that home always feels like an exciting place to return to, and yet the wandering spirit that has ruled you for so long desires more time to explore and more experiences to devour.
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For the last week my thoughts have been with Spud – Learning To Fly and how the following months might play out. I’ve thought about the book tour and the shift from an extremely private recent existence to something more public and amplified. Mostly though, my thoughts are with Learning to Fly, in the knowledge that the first copies of the book will be arriving at the Penguin Colony this afternoon. I hope to see my first copy upon landing on Sunday morning and will no doubt collapse into a heap in the corner and read voraciously and in a Vern-like manner. That will be the beginning of the next journey and perhaps that one will cast light onto the next and then the next.
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So in this, my final travel blog, i would like to thank you all for reading my idle ramblings and hope that you would have in some small way felt like you were taking a journey yourself. I hope too that it would inspire you to plan a trip somewhere unusual and see what Crowded House meant when they sang:
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“Give me time, give me time
because i want you to see,
round the world, round the world,
is a tangled up necklace of pearls.”
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To conclude, i have compiled a list of genuine items that have appeared on menus around SE Asia. Since many Asian people, and in particular the Thais, imitate the English language phonetically, some weird and wonderful spellings are to be had. I must declare that i have eaten none of the following items for obvious reasons, although Jules and i spent many a meal hooting with laughter over the following:
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ASIAN DELICACIES
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Fried Mike with Cashew.
Chicken Bugger in green salad.
Spicy Sheesh Kaboobs
Chicken Gordon Blun
Friend Fried with chicken nuggets.
Choice of sauces – chilli/garlic or tomato catsup
Toast with honey/jam/penus butter
Boiling egg on toast (poach)
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Oh and the sign at the entrance of Miami Bungalow reads:

INDIAN CURRY cooked in TENDOURI OWEN!
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Well, with a sigh and a grin, i must leave you for one last amble down the beach to drink it all in one final time.
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So long and bon voyage for the next time you’re feeling adventurous.
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It’s time to go home.
Â
Johnny

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John van de Ruit- Journal Entry May 13th

admin — Wed, 13 May 2009 08:51:59 +0000

Sunday 10th May – 1 Month until launch.

SWINE SYPHILIS AND ADVENTURES IN A MINI-WAN (Part One)

SWINE SYPHILIS

Notwithstanding three delightful near death experiences in the back of a Cambodian tuk-tuk, it has been a rather pleasant trip as far as transport is concerned. That is until we reached Southern Thailand this week. Now to place Thailand in its proper context, it is by far the most prosperous country on mainland South East Asia, primarily because of two reasons: It has never been colonised, and it hasn’t been bombed by the Americans. The contrast between Cambodia and Thailand is almost as stark as the difference between Zimbabwe and South Africa.

Flying via Bangkok to the South Western Thai port town of Krabi, i was thrilled to be tested for swine flu or H1N1 virus, the Scientific name given to prevent pigs from getting a bad name – thanks to CNN the horse has bolted on that one. I myself prefer a terrifying name for these outbreaks – it’s very difficult to imagine terror haunting the streets in the name of H1N1 – i suggest a potentially explosive “Swine Syphilis,” now that’s the kind of name for a real pandemic!

I approached the Swine Syphilis heat scanners with some confidence, assured that i was in spankingly good health despite a scrumptious yet suspicious Cambodian cheese and ham sandwich the day before. I am pleased to report that i passed the scanners with flying colours although Julia’s sneezing attack in the queue did attract some concerned glances from our fellow passengers. After being declared Swine Syphilis free, i immediately asked an important looking airport official if he knew where the loo was. He demanded to see my passport and boarding pass and eyed me suspiciously. He then stamped my passport with raging delight and handed over my documents that now declared me to be yellow fever free. Without so much as a poke in my earhole with an ice cream stick, i was internationally stamped and recognised as one healthy piece of South African meat.

ADVENTURES IN A MINIWAN (Part 1)

From Krabi we headed South to the seaside holiday village of Ao Nang. The contrast with Cambodia was immediately apparent. Everything was clean, orderly and incredibly smart. There wasn’t even a child beggar or hawker in sight. After a day of travelling and our close brush with Swine Syphilis, we collapsed into bed without dinner and were promptly devoured by sleep and a mosquito plague.

Waking up refreshed and itchy we set about booking a ferry to Ko Lanta, one of the most beautiful of Thailand’s islands. Our request was met with glum faces. The monsoon season has begun and all ferries to the islands have been discontinued. “But,” Said the helpful lady behind the desk, “You can take a Mini-wan.”
“A miniwan?” I replied, astonished that the Thais had invented a Minibus hovercraft.
“Two and a half hour.” She promised as she pocketed my money, “Bus leave 10:00.”

We hurriedly packed up our belongings and lugged our backpacks down the street to wait for the bus.

09:50 Two South Africans sit on the pavement waiting for the miniwan.

10:15 Two South Africans enter into a hotly contested game of “eye spy.”

10:30 The Miniwan approaches packed with morose looking Swedes and a Frenchman with a nagging sniff.

10:32 Miniwan sets off. I page through my guidebook and discover that it is a mere 120km by land to Ko Lanta, although there is still an unexplained stretch of blue on the map that looks suspiciously like the Indian Ocean.

11:05 The miniwan pulls up to the ferry port at Krabi.Spirits are raised when it seems we might be taking the ferry after all.

11:06 The driver orders us to stay in the Miniwan.

11:15 I feel like i’m losing my marbles in the back seat and have a series of hot flushes and bizarre leg tapping movements.

11:35 The driver returns with a livid looking Swedish blonde who stomps into the miniwan without apologizing for the delay and then flicks on her ipod.

11:36 It is discovered that the Miniwan has been parked in by three other miniwans.

11:45 Begin to consider that there may be some sort of conspiracy afoot in the wind. How is it that the morose Swede was waiting at the ferry if there are no boats running?

11:51 After much shouting and desperate negotiating our Miniwan is freed and we hurtle down the road.

11:55 The driver’s cell phone rings and he pulls off the road.

11:57 We perform a U-turn and return to the ferry.

12:01 A rasta boards the bus and passes out immediately.

12:02 WE’RE OFF – AGAIN.

12:25 We halt outside a cafe fronting as a travel agency. We are all ordered to remove our bags and step out of the van.

12:28 We drag our bags to the cafe and sit patiently for a new MINIWAN to take us to Ko Lanta.

12:30 I come to the realisation that in two and a half hours we have travelled 31km and haven’t properly left yet.

12:35 A waitress materialises to take our order. We inform her that we are on the Ko Lanta miniwan which is due shortly. She grins, taps her watch and says “Ko Lanta leaves 13:30.

12:36 I’m suddenly consumed with the urge to drink large quantities of beer despite not having had breakfast.

12:37 I order large quantities of beer.

Unfortunately due to the lack of fans or airconditioners in this internet cafe i shall be forced to leave the story here and pick it up next time. Please do not panic because part two of our adventures in a miniwan will resume shortly.

In the meantime i wish you all toothy grin and high spirits.

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John van de Ruit- Journal Entry May 1st

admin — Mon, 04 May 2009 07:58:03 +0000

SPUD MILTON TOMB RAIDER

It’s been a marvellous (wickedly splendid) eight days in the sleepy town of Siem Reap. The name itself means “Siam defeated” which refers directly to a great battle with the Thais that may not have occurred at all. The attractions of this place are the great temple ruins of Angkor built between the 9th and 12th century. These immense beasts that rise suddenly and inexplicably out of the jungle leaving you open-mouthed and somewhat intoxicated by their visage. The grandeur, beauty and craftsmanship that went into their construction and the creative genius that underscored the temples of Angkor is mind boggling. I’ve never been a big ruins fellow, but seeing the ancient temples of Angkor in the flesh is one of the greatest experiences of my life. It’s almost the fulfilment of every young boy’s fantasy… A vast temple of ruins surrounded by jungle and a 200 metre moat! Described by historians as eclipsing the majesty of the ruins of Ancient Egypt and the intricate detail of the Taj Mahal, Angkor Wat, the signature temple and pride of Cambodia is considered one of the great man made wonders of the Earth.

Having a week long pass to the temples and a tuk tuk driver means you can explore any temple at anytime. You just jump on the back and whizz off to wherever your fancy takes you. Highly recommend for anyone who has the chance to make a journey here to see something quite magnificent. The ancient temples of Angkor cover a distance of 300 square kilometres meaning significant tuk tuk flyer miles and after a week, a painful rectum. But enough about that – see it for yourself if you don’t believe me.

The centre of Siep Reap is the home of the delightful Psar Chas or backpacking district which is jammed with humble restaurants, bars and street stalls. We love sauntering around in the evening watching the “goings on” and then choosing what new restaurant we might try. Nothing like an evening cocktail whilst making sense of the eye popping sights one has seen that day. Speaking of cocktails… The Red Piano bar serves a Tomb Raider Cocktail which was requested nightly by Angelina Jolie when she was here filming Tomb Raider and sourcing kids. Apparently her tipple is Cointreau, lime juice and tonic . Clearly a dame with interesting tastes.

On Sunday our visas expire and we will leave Cambodia with heavy hearts, flying via Bangkok to Krabi in Southern Thailand. It’s indulgent to become too depressed knowing we are leaving Cambodia for the idyllic Andaman islands. But I know that I’ll leave behind me a country that has proved ceaselessly enchanting and utterly surprising. I have a feeling I shall think of it often and always with a mysterious smile on my face.

Barring angry Thai airport demonstrators and Swine flu, I shall chat again next week from Southern Thailand where a whole new chapter of our travels begin.

So long from Cambodia, the land of the unexpected…

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John van de Ruit- Journal Entry April 21st

admin — Tue, 21 Apr 2009 12:10:16 +0000

21st APRIL
50 Days to launch
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The bugger about growing older is that it’s an invisible act of decay. Like watching a rose bloom, one minute it’s a bulging bud and the next it’s as vast as a cauliflower, falling to pieces, and soiling its vase water. Yesterday, against all odds, I turned 34 years old, which no doubt some of you will think sounds old, and others will deem it mere spring chickendom. The thing is, I felt exactly the same on the morning of my birthday as I’d felt the previous night when I was still a youthful and vigorous 33 year old – apart from the blinding hangover that is. Now 34, I considered my somewhat haggered and unshaven face in the bathroom mirror and tried to analyse my visage dispassionately. My Dorian Gray moment was shattered by a sly mosquito who emerged out of a small potted bathroom fernÂ with intent to give me the Gecko treatment. In Cambodia the nocturnal female mosquitos spread malaria, and by day, a different species of female mozzie spreads Dengue fever. There is no mention of the rare Dawn and Dusk mosquito in my guidebook, although local wisdom has it that they’re devout pacifists that only spread goodwill.
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I lunged forward and thumped my palm into the wall, but the cunning Mrs Dengue evaded my swing and sniggered loudly as my hand crashed into the wall. I am pleased to report that after a swift and bloody battle I triumphed over the death fever carrier and thumped her into the basin in a splatter of blood. But it was my blood on the basin, and my ankle now had a nasty pink welt and itched like hell. Happy Birthday Johnno – you may be 34 but you still have a way with the ladies…
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Jules and I took to the streets of Phnom Penh for a leisurely lunch – well actually it was a debaucherously late breakfast and outside the airconditioned hotel the heat was oppresive and the noise of motorbikes and the chaos of the Asian street was everywhere. We chose a french coffee shop on the corner and settled in for a languid feast and some freshly brewed Khymer coffee. My eyes, as always, scanned the street and then fell upon theÂ coffee shop entrance where a customer waited patiently to be served. He was over three metres tall and weighed in at a portly three and a half tons.
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Jules said calmly, “There’s an elephant on the veranda”. And there he stood in all his glory staring right at us like he was expecting something. My God, I thought, what does one order an elephant in a coffee shop. Bottomless Coffee? A crowd of onlookers gathered, a few cameras snapped away whilst the rest of us gaped at the sight of an elephant in a coffee shop in the middle of a bustling city.
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A chair was brought out and then a vast tray of freshly chopped fruit and twenty or so baguettes soon followed. The elephant waited patiently to be served and then began guzzling his food piece by piece. He never lunged at his grub and waited for somebody to hand him another slice before chewing methodically and swallowing with relish. There was no circus, no disrespect, the waiters fed him like they were feeding a wise old man, in the knowledge that they were in the presence of a great ephemeral beast. Once the food was gone, the elephant’s minder thumped his stick into the ground and uttered a terse instruction. The elephant seemed to smile at us as if grateful for his morsel and then slowly padded back into the street where he merged seamlessly with the traffic and continued his languid journey home.
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We returned to our table and finished our breakfast. Then we ambled out onto the pavement where animated young Cambodian boys chased each other with unrestrained glee and a man who’s legs had been blown off by Pol Pot’s landmines raised his hands desperately towards me.
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“Tuk Tuk?” Shouted a hawker and motioned towards his motorized chariot. “You go Killing Fields?”
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We walked on. It now felt inspiring to be older, to understand more with the aid of less. Ten years ago I could have walked this same walk and witnessed the identical events, then I would have looked, but I wouldn’t have seen.
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J

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John van de Ruit – Journal Entry- April 7th

admin — Tue, 07 Apr 2009 11:54:30 +0000

64 DAYS TO LAUNCH!!!
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Dear Spud fans, friends, Romans and people at the wrong website.
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Greetings from Phnom Penh, Cambodia. It’s a week into the trip and I have thankfully settled down after the flurry of finishing the book and then roaring off to bustling Kuala Lumpur. I have finally, after a number of torturous nights watching CNN until dawn, taken control of my jetlag. After attempting numerous techniques to combat this mysterious sleeping disease, i have settled on the cunning ploy of brushing my teeth with single malt whiskey before a bout of shadow wrestling with myself. Works a treat and the headrush is to die for.
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So Phnom Penh is by far the largest city in Cambodia. It’s wild and intimidating when you first arrive, everything is loud and in-your-face and your’e not so sure this is the place for you at all. Within hours of your arrival it begins seducing you, after 3 days of exploring, it’s a love affair. Ramshackle slums and markets sit side by side with centuries old Pagodas and restored French colonial buildings. Beggars and tuk-tuk drivers accost you and small children sell books on genocide in the street cafes and sulk if you don’t make a purchase. Our hotel – The Hotel Castle lies on the riverside overlooking where an elephant strolls past every afternoon blocking up the rush hour traffic on his way home. He works at Wat Phnom, the city’s holiest site, where he offers rides to tourists for five dollars and eats their sticks of sugar cane in return for a posed pic. I kid you not.
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Just cruising the streets or stopping off at a restaurant or bar can be an experienced, although Julia has a growing addiction to adopting mangy street cats so i have to be aware of small furry Rogers wherever i go. Saddened to report that i haven’t yet seen Brad and Angelina scouring the orphanages and backalleys looking for more children athough my recent avid CNN watching revealed Madonna’s hardship in childtrafficking closer to home. Ouch!
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On a more serious tone, the weekend saw usÂ exploring the Killing Fields where Pol Pot’s murderous regime slaughtered thousands of Cambodian men, women, and children who were accused of being enemies of the state. Pol Pot’s Khymer Rouge which devastated the country from 1974-1979 was unimaginably cruel and bloodthirsty. We witnessed a three storey glass monument packed with human skulls and the shallow pits in which the bodies were buried. When you see evidence of so much sensless death, you realise it’s such a fine line between everything you assume that is in your control and the reality that often it isn’t.
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Yesterday and today i have found myself musing about Spud and his incredible journey that began on his first day of boarding school. I think about Leearning To Fly more often now and chuckle at some of the moments that still amuse me. I think too about the new character that i have created and how the readers might react to him. His name is Garlic, and he could be the original Malawian village idiot. I wonder if readers will find him irritating or funny, ideally it will be both – funny how it’s always the newest chicks you feel most protective over.
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I was hoping to share some movie news – but this may have to wait. I can, however, tell you that things are moving along at pace with a few exciting developments. For those of you that dream of movie stardom please DON’T panic. There have been no SA auditions as of yet and when there are, this will be the place you hear it first. I have asked the movie producer Ross Garland to write a movie update, but he seems to be ignoring me. Don’t worry i’ll keep nagging.
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So from here, we’re heading Southwards on Thursday to the remote seaside village of Kep near the Vietnam border. It promises some rural R&R on a hillside above the Gulf of Thailand. I plan to read, walk the hills, and enjoy my sundowners. I’ll catch up with you there if i can find an internet cafe, and i’ll share a few more random tales from the orient.
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In the meantime please consider the following question:
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Should one pat a muzzled dog?
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Spud love
Johnny

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