Readers Articles - Thailand Visa Run to Poipet, Cambodia - A Day in the Life of a Cheap Charlie

"7 past 15", that's all I heard from my girlfriend this morning in my muddled state. "7 past 15?", "3 O'clock?" I grumble, realising I could easily have slept in but hoped not to have on today of all days. Today I have to face every Thailand expat's nightmare, the dreaded visa run.

In fact it's not every expat's nightmare, many fly off for a quick Singapore shopping spree, spend a couple of days gambling in Macao or partying away in Hong Kong with not a thought about us expats with less financial freedom; the cheap charlies, border runners, visa runners, the ones that live in fear of new immigration rules and visa price hikes, tales of 'showing money' at the border for re-entry, and long hold out hope for that all important non-immigrant-B visa and work permit. I unfortunately fall into the cheap charlie category, so instead of a weekend sampling the delights of South East Asia, all beautiful women and drinks at the bar, I had to face the Poi Pet Visa run.

The Poi Pet visa run is amongst the most loathed upon by Bangkok expats, and is second only to the Malaysian visa run by overland transport, a long distance slow journey down through the far reaches of Southern Thailand to reach the Malaysian border, an ordeal of boredom and clock watching whether you take the bus or train made that once experienced you will vow to never do again.

My head clears and I realise it's 7.15am and not 3.07pm, so I jump out of bed grab my checklist of items and tick it off as I fill up my bag. I'm forgetful at this time of the day and I imagine there is nothing worse than arriving at a border crossing and not having your passport. A coffee, shower, and shave later I grab my small bag, tuna sandwiches prepared, books to read, notepad to make a list on that will sort my life out and be ignored the moment after I write it, give the girlfriend a quick peck on the cheek and rush out of the apartment door glad to be on my way and hoping to make the border in good time.

Now most people travel up to Mochit, the Northern bus terminal to take buses to the East of Thailand, but I like to be a little different and headed towards the Eastern Bus Terminal in Ekamai. Now only did it make more sense to me to travel East from the Eastern terminal, but it was just a few stops on the subway before changing onto the sky train, and then only a few more stops and the sky train station is just a minutes walk from the bus terminal.

The subway system is a blessing to Bangkokians, fast, efficient and cheap, and no sooner than I'm on it, than I'm off at Soi Asoke and change from traveling under the city to above it on that elevated rail that slices through the city, the futuristic sounding sky train. Fifteen minutes later and I alight at Ekamai, straight down to the bus station, and arriving at 9am soon expect myself to be well on my way to the border, and only then I find out why the smart people use the Northern bus terminal.

Apparently buses are not as frequent from the Eastern bus terminal, in fact despite my horribly early start to the day, and my smooth journey so far, I've now been informed by the friendly staff at the bus terminal that I can get a bus only as far as Sakaew, before changing to get a bus to Aranyaprathet, and the bus to Sakaew wouldn't be leaving until 11.15am; a two hour wait suddenly interrupts the best laid plans of mice and men. They inform me with a friendly smile that I would do better to travel onto the Mochit bus terminal where I could get a bus direct onto Aranyaprathet which leave on the hour, every hour. I weigh up the options, think about the extra cost and bother of going to another bus terminal and decide it must be time for a two hour breakfast.

There's not much to do along Sukhumvit's Soi Ekami at 9am in the morning, I walk the streets for a while looking for a decent breakfast, window shopping all the way, and finally end up having a less than decent pork on rice, too many cokes and cigarettes and end up back at the Eastern bus terminal for a few games on the conveniently placed 'House of the Dead' arcade game, no doubt full of 10 baht coins from people that are as unknowledgeable as me about the Bangkok bus timetables. Just past 11 O'clock and I get onto the bus needed, my list to sort out my life started, and secure in the knowledge that were there an imminent zombie attack I'm better off running away than standing and shooting. As Woody Allen once said, 'In the event of a war, I'm a hostage'.

As I'm sitting on the bus waiting for it to rumble off and out of the big smoke I watch another bus pull into the terminal and move towards the parking space parallel to us. Already in it's parking space is one of Bangkok's numerous stray dogs, and as this bus maneuvers into its place it just doesn't move, in fact its facing the other way and doesn't even seem to notice this huge vehicle approaching from behind. I was always led to believe that dogs had superior senses to us humans in every way, their hearing, sight and smell far more advanced than our own, but this dog showed none of those traits. In fact this dog didn't move until this huge bus gently bumped into its tiny frame and moved it along! Have Bangkok buses really achieved the science of stealth technology that alluded the US government scientists for so many years simply by moving slowly? Or is it as I suspect the dog has become infected with that 'mai pen rai' attitude that seems to dominate everything that stays in Thailand too long? Well myself being infected with the same attitude, I thought no more about it, pushed back my seat as far as it would allow, and as the bus engine kicked in and we rolled out of the bus terminal, I drifted off into a well needed sleep.

Awaking some hours later, I happily found out that we had reached Sakaew already. I love being out in Thailand's countryside, it's such a welcome change from the congested and claustrophobic Bangkok, banana trees sway in the fresh air, streams and small ponds lie just off the roadside, and the local kids are still excited enough to see a foreigner that when they do spot one they all break out with smiles and waves. It's at times like this when I am reminded that I do live in a tropical country, I do live in Asia, I am in an exotic part of the world, and I day dream on how life would be so different living in a big house with a garden in the rural Thailand, rather than a pokey apartment in Bangkok overlooking the local snooker hall and karaoke bar. It's a recurring daydream that always comes back to me whenever I'm outside of Bangkok.

I reach Sakaew bus station at just after 2pm and find it a lazy little place, with very few people and not an arcade machine in sight. Fortunately it wasn't a long wait there for the bus to the Aranyaprathet and I was told that I didn't need a ticket from the terminal, just jump on the bus and pay the conductor 40 baht for the hour long journey. All very easy and it ended my fears of being stuck with another long wait for a bus in the mid day heat.

The woman was one of the Khmer people that were traveling back to Cambodia after a brief visit to Thailand, in her case to visit her daughter who worked as a maid in Bangkok. The child it turned out was her grand daughter who she had taken to see her Mum. She could speak Thai, but no English, so we muddled through a conversation on all sorts of things (muddled purely through my lack of fluency in the language I should add), but mainly about her grandchild, a cute little girl who seemed to have a curiosity for everything, and seemed infatuated with grabbing the drawstrings of my bag and as, children of that age do, try to shove them in her mouth.

There was a brief stop for an army checkpoint, a soldier mounted the bus and did a quick check of everyone's ID. I pulled out my passport for inspection but was ignored, apparently I'm not the kind of people they are looking for, which I assume is illegal workers or some such people that they always seem to check for when ever you approach a border to another country. It seemed everybody's papers were in order and it is around 3 0'clock when the bus pulled into the market area of Aranyaprathet that is located a short walk from the immigration offices.

As a foreigner I was straight on my guard as soon as I got off the bus, it's not that I'm new traveler to the region who's goes into panic every time they see an approaching Asian face imagining they are going to be drugged and robbed and wake up in a bath full of ice minus a kidney, but being a white guy I'm obviously going to be a target for the hordes of beggars that I have heard so much about at this particular border crossing, and that's before the touts crowd around you offering their services to help your visa process run smoothly. The Thai/Cambodian border crossing further south at Trat/Cham Yeam is full of young Khmer lads asking in perfect English how you are, inquiring after your home country, whilst they walk you to the immigration gate and help you fill out a false medical report (more about that later) then have the cheek to ask 100 baht for their services.

So I walked on, eyes open ready to deflect the first tout, and so one approached. I'm never one to be rude, I don't wave my hand in people's faces and brush them away like some colonial Briton in 19th century India, so I shook his hand, declined his offers to get my passport stamped without any queues or fuss and carried on my way. And that was it; the only tout on this border crossing was an amiable young guy, who left me alone as soon as I said I would do it by myself.

And where were the beggars? I was expecting limbless Khmers rolling up to me on defunct skateboards, cripples with crutches hobbling at pace with hands stretched out asking for my hard earned baht, but there was none of this. In fact despite the two hour wait at the Bangkok bus terminal, I was having quite a pleasant and smooth running day out in the countryside. Perhaps the Poi Pet visa run isn't quite the nightmare everyone reported it was, but then again, I hadn't passed through the immigration yet.

I took a pleasant stroll through the border market, turning down offers for cheap sunglasses and army surplus gear, and come upon the Thai immigration office. There were a number of kids around this area, asking for one baht, hands outstretched, and some of the older kids offering the service of keeping me in the shade with large umbrellas they were attempting to hoist above my head. I made a mental note to use one of the umbrella holders for the walk back through the market on my return to Thailand and get them a portion of food from one of the vendors nearby. I'm always in need of some Buddhist merit, and that's going to be my good deed for the day. I'm never comfortable about giving money to beggars, as a lot of it never gets to the kids but just goes back to people who run these beggar rings, but a gift of food is always going to the right place, a hungry kids stomach.

I was soon stamped out of Thailand and in no mans land facing the next part of this supposedly feared ordeal of dealing with the corrupt Khmer immigration officials, who are apparently only reached after hours of waiting in a queue full of foreign English teachers who use this cheap and convenient crossing on a regular basis. On later reflection I realized that by going to the this border crossing mid week and not on the weekend when all the school teachers have free time to make the visa run, and the Thais are not going over the border to gamble was part of the reason my transit so far had run so smoothly.

There's a short walk from Thailand across no mans land before you reach Cambodia's edge, and it's lined with casinos on either side, with droves of Khmer workers coming and going daily to service them and the Thai people that use them. They looked enticing, and I'm certainly a man who likes his sins, and the thought of standing at a roulette table with a nice glass of whiskey and a rack of chips, playing the part of James Bond appealed to me. As I mentioned earlier though, I am in the cheap charlie category and so I walked pass, trying hard to peer inside through the tinted glass windows to catch a glimpse of the fun within. I wonder if they sell Martinis, shaken not stirred?

Approaching the Cambodian border I expect to see the crowds of foreigners waiting to get their stamp into the country, but there was no such thing, and so I breezed up to the first office, where a helpful gentleman outside gave me the Cambodian Visa application form, asked me fill it out which I duly did before taking the form, my passport and 1000 baht inside the office and asked me to take a seat outside. Five minutes later, my passport is returned with a full page now filled by the Cambodian visa. Why they need to issue such a large visa which takes up a full page in my passport I just don't know, it's even more ironic when you realise that I'll be using this visa for less than a few minutes before I get stamped out with it and it loses its validity.

I start off with my new visa towards the second immigration office to get myself actually stamped into the country when an official asks to me to take a seat and fill out the medical form required to get the entry stamp. Now the medical form is a small yellow form which is of no use at all for the foreigner entering Cambodia, its only purpose in life is to provide the Khmer officials something to help them trick unknowing foreigners out of a few baht, as of course, once it's filled out it has to be paid for.

I quite enjoy the banter and having someone try to scam me, it brightens up a dull day, so I sit down as they explain how it's Cambodian law to have this medical stamp before entering the country and let them fill out the medical form for me with no check ups and questions directed at me, and its certainly nice to see I have no SARS disease as the official checks off the box. 30 Seconds later it's filled in, and I'm asked for 50 baht. I decline to pay, saying that I don't need it, and they then offer me the form for 20 baht which I also decline jokingly saying that anyone can see I'm in perfect health whilst proudly sticking out my beer belly. They smile some more, and tell me "Today you can have for free", and cheerily wish me on my way. You've got to admire that although official workers from the Cambodian government are trying to scam you that they don't try to scam you for much, and give up pretty easily and with a smile. I'm now ready to face the immigration office, passport in hand, visa in the passport and medical form shoved into my back pocket.

Well I finally find a queue, all of three people, backpackers no doubt heading off to Siem Reap to experience the glory of Angkor Wat. I do enjoy living in Thailand, being out in this wonderful South East Asian country full time, but there is always a twinge of regret and jealousy when I see backpackers traveling around Asia with such freedom and excitement. It's not long before I'm in front of the man with the stamp asking how long I'm intending to visit Cambodia for and I tell him I'm going to be here for about a minute, or at least as long as it takes me to get stamped in and out again. He asks for a fee of 100 baht, stating that's it's Cambodian law to have to pay this fee if you do not stay overnight in the country, but I tell him I don't want to pay and I already have the visa in my passport, he shrugs his shoulders and stamps me in anyway, though certainly not as happily as his medical form colleagues.

You'll never stay in a country for as short a time as when you're doing a visa run from Thailand, I came out of one office, now officially in the Kingdom of Cambodia, cross the dirt road, and get stamped out of the country. My Cambodian visit must have lasted all of one minute this time, and once again I think of those backpackers that have the time to pay a visit to this great country as I turn around and head back to Bangkok, looking forward to thirty more days freedom before the next time.