This is the start of a dream voyage that will take me from the timeless Cambodian countryside to the bustling mayhem that is Phnom Penh following the bends of the legendary Mekong River, peeking at floating villages and Buddhist monasteries along the way and into the Vietnamese delta further south.

Unbeknownst to me at the time, I would leave Indochina under the complete and utter spell of its inhabitants, deeply moved by the unconditional generosity and innate kindness of those I would be lucky enough to cross paths with — and the realization that the primary force of attraction, here, is not something that tourists will find in glossy brochures.

My summary of a transformative 7-day river cruise on the Mekong, from Cambodia to Vietnam.

Tonle Sap River

The gentle hum of the motor barely registers as we glide silently along the Tonle Sap, a freshwater lake intricately connected to the Mekong River. Renowned for its distinctive flow reversal, orchestrated by the annual fluctuations in the Mekong’s water volume and the influence of the Asian Monsoon regime, this waterway unveils the authentic essence of Cambodia.

The seemingly endless, level landscapes are adorned with stilt houses, serving not only as shelters against the monsoon’s wrath or improvised cowsheds but also as symbolic bridges to the divine. Amidst the lush vegetation, water buffalo and slender Brahman cows flourish undisturbed, occasionally interrupted by the spirited shouts of toddlers and teenagers eagerly awaiting our boat. Their energetic calls of “Hello! Hello! Hello!” punctuate the air, possibly the only English words they’ll ever know, accompanied by vigorous waves as we pass by. In stark contrast to children coerced into pestering tourists at temples, these youngsters exude genuine joy in welcoming visitors, their brief interactions leaving a lasting, heartwarming impression.

Angkorban

The brevity of the stop in Angkorban, a small commune nestled deep in the Battambang Province, far from the madding crowds and the urban cacophony, was perhaps one of the most poignant ones in this whole voyage. This is where I visit the local primary and secondary school and meet with irresistible children eager to meet newcomers despite the incalculable cultural gap that separates us.

From the beaming grin of the fishmonger to the little girls gifting me freshly plucked coral-hued flowers, the irony isn’t lost on me – often, it’s those with the least to offer who deliver the most profound surprises.

Cambodia, in its rapid growth and intricate complexities, bears the scars of stark inequalities, predominantly stemming from the brutal genocide led by Pol Pot in 1975. Let’s call a spade a spade. However, amidst this historical darkness, Cambodians emerge as some of the kindest, most amicable individuals I’ve ever encountered, despite the profound wounds they carry. They stand as powerful symbols of resilience and unwavering compassion, leaving an enduring impact on my understanding of humanity.

These are the memories I wish to hold dear – the unlikely encounters, the exploration beyond temples and heritage, and, above all, the profound connection with the resilient and compassionate people of Cambodia.

Phnom Penh

The honking tuk-tuks and the reddish-ochre Mekong river banks leave little doubt as to where the boat is docked. Once dubbed “the pearl of Asia”, Phnom Penh is a definitive assault on the senses after the quietude of the countryside but its Royal Palace, its National Museum, its diverse markets and its expanding café-terrace culture make it an interesting destination, along with its an amalgam of mismatched buildings with a certain je-ne-sais-quoi dating back to the French colonial era.

And while leisurely afternoons spent haggling at any of the dozen markets or sipping coffee while people watching, it would be downright unthinkable to travel to the Cambodian capital and overlook its tragic, not-that-long-ago history. Visiting the tragically yet aptly named Killing Fields and the Tuol Sleng genocide museum is not for the faint of heart but are essential nonetheless; the horrendous acts performed within these walls are simply indescribable and I can barely bring myself to step into the succession of rooms filled with photographs of victims taken before their untimely demise. Not one person exits the gates without a dull look, troubled by the inherent horror of the museum and the sombre realisation that four decades later we are not any safer from such heinous acts.

In memory of the victims, in hope for a brighter future, and for the sake of tolerance, one simply cannot go to Phnom Penh and not acknowledge the genocide performed by the Khmer Rouge regime.

Kampong Chhnang

Comprising a few hundred houses built atop bamboo trees and artisanal fish farms, this village is painted in almost every shade of blue to honour Norodom Sihamoni, the King of Cambodia. This is also where visitors will find a lively yet rather primitive fish market, which, despite its irrefutably fetid smell, is still well worth a look in order to fully understand how people live in the Tonle Sap area.

Visiting Kampong Chhnang was yet another validation of my belief that had I visited the Cambodian countryside 100 years ago, it would’ve looked exactly the same.

Wat Preah Angkoak

The beauty of sailing an intimate ship on this river cruise on the Mekong is that we are at liberty to moor at the smallest, least touristy of landmarks.

Located just a few hours ride from Angkorban, this striking gold temple was a real treat to visit after the crowds of Phnom Penh and worse still, Siem Reap. Here, monkeys and monks mingle peacefully and I find myself in awe of the colourful frescoes inside the pagoda, enthralled by the numerous scenes and also, quietly, ashamed at my lack of knowledge of Buddhist heritage.

Chau Doc

Chau Doc, with its vibrant Muslim community and mosque, stands out as an extraordinary village, boasting an unexpected cultural diversity for its size. Disembarking from the antique wooden barge, I traverse a rickety bamboo bridge that spans a canal adorned with lush floating plants, eventually arriving beside stilt houses nestled along the banks of the River Bassac. From this vantage point, I playfully observe local life, stealing glimpses into the simple yet charming dwellings perched high above the water.

Meandering toward the bustling high street, I chance upon a quaint and aromatic street market, albeit with a caveat. If there were anything remotely resembling a public health code in Vietnam, it appears to be a mere suggestion. Fish await their fate in makeshift basins, with freshness demonstrated by their animated flops, while raw meat sits exposed in wicker baskets under the scorching sun. Despite the chaotic scene and the proximity of passing lorries and buses, such market scenes are the norm in Vietnam, seemingly accepted without question.

Preferring prudence over culinary curiosity – both my stomach and immune system likely to dissent otherwise – I depart the market with a collection of vivid images, marveling at the spontaneity and warmth with which Vietnamese people welcome photographers into their midst.

Sa Dec

Our river cruise along the Mekong led us to Sa Dec, a bustling locale with a population nearing 150,000 inhabitants. Stepping ashore, I immediately sensed the vibrant energy and atmosphere typical of Southeast Asia—a reminder of its heyday as the informal capital of the Mekong Delta in the 19th century.

For European tourists, a highlight was the sino-French house immortalized in Marguerite Duras’ novel and subsequent film, “The Lover,” offering a glimpse into the author’s early life in Indochina. Dating back to 1895, this delightful urban pagoda was once home to the novel’s protagonist, Huynh Thuy Le.

Others, unfamiliar with Duras’ work, found themselves drawn to the immense public market sprawling over several blocks. Here, amid stalls laden with meat, flowers, fruits, vegetables, fish, and rice, the bustling activity felt palpable. It was as if I stood at the very heart of the city, immersed in its vibrant pulse, and doubly excited for our final destination—the Vietnamese capital.

Ho Chi Minh City

Formerly recognized as Saigon, the capital of Ho Chi Minh City takes me completely off guard, despite the plethora of advice I received before my arrival. I believed I was mentally prepared for the chaotic uproar. How naive I was! In Ho Chi Minh City, crossing the street becomes an act of bravery:

With the absence of traffic lights, eight million scooters careen towards their destinations, indifferent to helpless pedestrians. The only viable method to reach the adjacent sidewalk is to identify even the tiniest gap in traffic, step onto the street confidently, and hope for the best.

At this juncture, I’m uncertain whether my perspiration results from the scorching 40-degree weather or genuine fear for my life. Nonetheless, the surge of adrenaline sends me into uncontrollable laughter once I successfully reach the other side, limbs visibly unscathed… until I must repeat the ordeal 100 meters further.

Exploring Saigon entails visits to its historic attractions, spanning from French colonization to the American War, wandering through alleys where time appears frozen, exploring incense-laden temples, and encountering the distinctly European Notre-Dame Cathedral alongside the dissonant Palace of Reunification and, of course, the Cu Chi tunnels.

The array of activities in Ho Chi Minh City could occupy me for days, especially when it comes to savoring its gastronomic offerings—Pho, grilled meat, noodles, spring rolls! Alas, I have a mere 48 hours to make the most of the capital, culminating in rooftop sunset drinks at the upscale Rex Hotel.

Vietnam’s audacity and complex history weave a country rich in contrasts that demand multiple visits to fully grasp its identity. I’ve merely scratched the surface, choosing to view it as an incentive to return rather than a regrettable short trip.

The post River cruise on the Mekong: a Cambodia and Vietnam photo journey appeared first on To Europe And Beyond.

Not wanting to miss a minute from this impromptu show, I ascend to the sun deck to admire the desultory choreography taking place before me, mentally thanking our captain’s nerves of steel. We had only just left Cambodia but the contrast was already quite striking; the bucolic scenes of the tranquil countryside were far behind us, both figuratively and literally, as we entered the chaos that is the Mekong Delta.

Cable ferries, fishing barges, dredging boats and private vessels crisscrossed dangerously just a few feet below, apparently unfazed by the ear-splitting horns of our ship – it seemed as though everyone was too busy disputing its little portion of Mekong to care.

Crossing the Indochina peninsula maritime border between Cambodia and Vietnam was a smooth process and we arrive in Chau Doc right on the dot.

Chau Doc

With is Muslim community and its mosque, Chau Doc is a rather unusual place; in fact, it benefits from a surprising cultural diversity for a village this size.

I leave the antique wooden barge and hop on a rickety bamboo bridge that will lead me across a canal carpeted by lush floating plants. Perched high on the banks of River Bassac, the stilt houses allow me to cheekily observe how locals live Heading towards the high street, I stumble upon a minuscule yet fragrant – to put it lightly – street market.

At this point, a PSA is necessary. Even if there were anything vaguely resembling a public health code in Vietnam, let me tell you that it is not heavily enforced.

Fish worryingly wait for their inevitable faith wriggle in a makeshift basin. In Vietnam, fish is only decapitated at the request of the client in order to demonstrate freshness. Raw meat is stored in a wicker basket on the back of a motorcycle fully exposed to the blaring sun. Lorries and buses zoom past just a few metres from the scene and yet, this is just how markets are done in Vietnam, with no one to give it any second thought.

For lack of sustainment – I do not think neither my stomach nor my immune system would be keen to forgive an affront of the sort – I leave the market with what I think is a rather good series of images, surprised at and thankful for the spontaneity and friendliness with which Vietnamese people greet photographers.

Through the excursions on this Mekong river cruise, I’ve had the chance to visit a floating market, an artisanal fish farm and even a community whose livelihood is almost entirely based on rice by-products. A sudden deluge keeps me holed up inside the building where the centre of production is. It’s just as well. I now have plenty of time to greet the workers and admire their craft, from the women in charge of making paper rice to the men overseeing puffed rice.

Sa Dec

I was also able to visit Sa Dec. With a population nearing 150,000 inhabitants, this place has the allure and the atmosphere I expected from busy South-East Asia. It once was the informal capital of the Mekong Delta in the 19th century.

European tourists beeline for the sino-French house portrayed in The Lover novel and film by Marguerite Duras, which is an autofiction based on her early life in Indochina. It’s actually a delightful urban pagoda dating back to 1895 and this is where the protagonist Huynh Thuy Le lived. Those unfamiliar with the author discovered the immense public market, which unfolds over several blocks; meat, flowers, fruits, vegetables, fish, rice… the stalls pile up and yet none of them is vacant.

Ho Chi Minh City

Formerly known as Saigon, the capital takes me by absolute surprise despite the abundant advice I received before I got here. I thought I was mentally prepared for the nonsensical pandemonium. How naïve of me! In Ho Chi Minh City, crossing the street is nothing short of bravery: in the absence of traffic lights, eight million scooters continuously dash towards their destination without a care in the world for helpless pedestrians. The only possible way to reach the adjacent sidewalk is to spot a gap – however small – in traffic, step onto the street confidently and hope for the best.

Experiencing Saigon is also done by visiting its historic attractions spanning French colonisation to the American war. Alleys where time seems to have stood still. Incensed-out temples. The strikingly European Notre-Dame cathedral. The discordant Palace of Reunification. The Cu Chi tunnels. Ho Chi Minh is complex and full of layers!

There are more than enough things to do in Ho Chi Minh to keep busy for a few days. In fact, I would require a full week simply to taste the gastronomic offering. Pho! Grilled meat! Noodles! Spring rolls! Alas, I only have 48 hours to make the most of the capital on this Mekong river cruise and I choose to top it off with rooftop sunset drinks at the posh Rex Hotel.

Vietnam’s history make it a country heavy with contrasts. As such, I feel must be visited on several occasions in order to fully comprehend its identity. I’ve only scratched the surface but I choose to see it as an excuse to return rather than an all-too-short trip.

The post Vietnam: 5 days on a Mekong river cruise appeared first on To Europe And Beyond.

Here’s everything you need to know to plan your very own adventure on the mighty Mekong.

An object of beauty

Visually striking with its elegant wooden decks and vintage charm, the Tonle ship has been on continuous service on the Mekong since 2003. She was entirely refurbished in 2013 to create space for a library/movie theatre as well as a spa on the lower deck. The main level is where the formal dining room, used for all three meals and the occasional cooking class, is located. It should be said that every single on-board meal was a delight, from the Vietnamese noodle bar to the hearty Cambodian curries and the unmistakably European cheese spread at lunchtime.

The pièce de résistance, however, indisputably is the massive teak and brass sundeck. Stretching from one end of the ship to the other, with its 1920s flair, elegant furniture, and most importantly for some, a WiFi connection, this 360-degree promenade is where most guests spent their free time. One can hardly blame them, though, for the idea of sipping a fruity cocktail while relaxing on a luxurious lounge chair, basking in the sun, enjoying the unobstructed views of Cambodian countryside is an opportunity one can hardly decline.

In terms of accommodation, the Tonle ship has just 28 170-square feet staterooms (18 on the upper deck, 10 on the main deck); despite its relative compact size compared to ocean liners, Pandaw offers the highest passenger-to-deck-space ratio of any cruise ships afloat. Each stateroom features panoramic French windows, ample storage, a stone shower and an AC unit — not an extravagance in these tropical parts, where nighttime temperatures skirt around the mid-20s even in February.

How to plan a cruise on the Mekong

From the mystique of Angkor temples to the mayhem that is Ho Chi Minh City — where a mundane thing like crossing the street is a matter of life and death — the range and variety of excursions aboard this Pandaw cruise was simply mindboggling.

Pandaw’s guides took guests to lively floating markets, which I personally left empty-handed as I didn’t think neither my stomach nor my immune system would have been keen to forgive an affront of the sort, to the Cu Chi tunnels and the tragically aptly-named Killing Fields, as well as to hectic Phnom Penh and just about everywhere worthwhile in between. Over the course of eight days, I rode a tuk-tuk, a wooden barge and even a rickshaw in landscapes that left me speechless and met kind-hearted people whose smile I shall remember forever.

The contrast upon crossing into Vietnam from Cambodia was quite striking. After a seamless maritime border passage — there are very few things dollars can’t fix in these parts anyway — the bucolic scenes of the Cambodian countryside were far behind us, both figuratively and literally, as we entered the chaotic Mekong Delta in Vietnam. Cable ferries, fishing barges, dredging boats and private vessels crisscrossed dangerously just a few feet below, unfazed by the Tonle’s ear-splitting horns — it seemed as though everyone was too busy disputing its portion of Mekong to care.

With the help of knowledgeable guides and comprehensively prepared tours, myself and other guests were able to further acquaint ourselves with the multitude of layers of both Cambodia’s and Vietnam’s history and culture.

Life on board

While cruises are generally notorious for their almost overwhelmingly extravagant programme, this simply isn’t Pandaw’s style. Smaller ships call for more intimate activities — absolutely no casino or overstated productions here — and a slower pace where guests are free to interact however little or however much they like.

And, again, unlike most cruises, mornings didn’t start with an invasive speaker announcement and throngs of famished cruisers but rather with the chirping of local birds and the laughs of children playing in the river; just one of the many benefits of being on a ship small enough to access remote areas of the Mekong River.

A typical day on board the Pandaw Tonle commenced with either a leisurely breakfast or a coffee on the sundeck and was followed by a shore expedition, for which a bottle of water and a wireless headset were kindly provided. Guests were welcomed back on board with a freshly pressed juice and cold towels, just in time for lunch, during which the captain raised anchor to cruise towards the next destination. Afternoons were a mixed bag of hardships, really, between spa treatments, sunbathing sessions, lectures on local culture by the knowledgeable guide and perhaps even another shore expedition. At half past six, guests were kindly requested to head to the sundeck for sunset — not without the promise of a happy hour cocktail — and for a succinct briefing about the following day’s itinerary, where the cruise director was available to answer questions as well as to arrange special requests. Dinner came next. The remainder of the evening could either spent watching a movie in the theatre downstairs or indulging in a digestif on the sundeck.

Luxury dwells in the smallest, most devilish of details and while the ship was quite memorable in its own right, it was the proactive crew that made an instrumental difference. Stewards were constantly eager to help and hurriedly fulfilled each and every guest’s needs without having to be asked twice.

Not many ships can boast having amenities and ambiance so enticing that guests would actually question whether they wanted to leave the boat at all, even for a brief shore expedition. It’s no wonder repeat customers made up 45% of occupants on this cruise.

What you need to know about Mekong river cruises

• Pandaw offers à la carte services and handcrafted luxury on some of Asia’s most legendary waters; as such, these are not party or entertainment cruises but intimate experiences centered around conviviality and cultural richness.

• Cruises include accommodation, excursions, occasional activities and three meals per day. Imported soft drinks and alcohol packages can be purchased on board.

• Rates start at $2400 for a seven-night cruise on the Mekong from Siem Reap to Ho Chi Minh City.

• A note on safety and security: the heat and humidity of South-East Asia can be a struggle for some and should not be under-estimated. Additionally, the terrain around temples and docks is not always levelled and can cause problems for visitors with limited mobility.

The post Everything you need to know about Meking river cruises appeared first on To Europe And Beyond.