The Martlet

Cambodia was not what I expected.

I wasn’t expecting lounge chairs and water sports on the beach by day. I wasn’t expecting Britney Spears blasting from disco clubs by night.

I wasn’t expecting Club Med at one one-hundredth of the price.

But it was all that — and so much more. For over a month, my friends and I toured Cambodia by bus, boat and bike. And though we had our share of great experiences (met tonnes of awesome people, sunbathed on gorgeous beaches, even survived a near-fatal monkey attack) we still missed out on one key element: the history.

And, as always, we have me to blame for that.

It was on our second week of travel through Cambodia that my group arrived in Siem Reap. Known for being a city rich in culture, we figured it was about time we got out and saw the sights. Off we’d go to the ancient temples of Angkor Wat. Finally, we would enjoy an entire day of fun that didn’t involve volleyball on the beach, beers at noon, or doing our very best sloth impressions in the sand. Hell, maybe we’d even learn something. Maybe.

Unfortunately, Siem Reap proved too luring for me the previous evening and, before you can say one-dollar-Jäger-bombs, I was out until four in the morning. Who knew Cambodia was as happening as Thailand? I did.

Enter 7 a.m. tour time. I peeled myself off the bed, took one look in the mirror and realized there was nothing I could do about my hair (afro), my makeup (crack whore) and — yup — there was a penis drawn on my back.

But one hat, sunglasses and long-sleeved shirt later, I was off to the ruins. And I have to say, I was amazed. There was temple after temple carved with intricacy and detail. Around us, monkeys danced and monks walked.

At one point during the tour, our guide stopped us to observe a large tree growing out of an old brick building. Its giant roots spread onto the ground like a gnarled fist.

“This,” he told us proudly, “is where Tomb Raider was filmed.”

People in my group gasped and snapped photos. It’s as if he’d said this is where the Titanic sunk or where the kids from Twilight made out. I was only mildly impressed, having never seen Tomb Raider, and my friends didn’t seem to care either. What they did find interesting, however, was how riled up the tourists were. From that moment on, they made a point of asking — at every tourist attraction we visited and in an over-the-top American accent — “is this wear Tomb Raider was filmed?”

At the Grand Palace in Thailand — “Is this where Tomb Raider was filmed?” Tubing down the Mekong river in Laos — “Is this where Tomb Raider was filmed?” Me peeing on the side of the road in Bali — “Is this where Tomb Raider was filmed?”

And on and on it went. For like a year. But one video game-turned-blockbuster-turned-Cambodian attraction later, and I was still alive on our tour. I was actually doing surprisingly well, given that only hours previous I was drinking water from our shower in an alcohol-induced blur.

But by 11 a.m. the sun was really beginning to scorch and the temperature shot way up. Suddenly, I was nauseous. Suddenly, I was faint. Suddenly, I was having flashbacks of a karaoke competition and tequila shots with a guy named Kulap. I couldn’t hold it in. I braced myself against a rock. I began to vomit. Our tour guide was horrified.

“That’s an ancient rock! That’s a piece of history!”

But I couldn’t stop. Twenty horrified looks shot back at me. A Japanese tour group passed by taking photos. Mouths were gaping. Children’s eyes were covered. Apparently I’d left my dignity in Canada.

From then on, the group kept their distance from me — even the locals selling postcards backed off. More likely than not, it was because I had vomited on my own foot. It was a humiliating experience and certainly wasn’t the way I’d intended to kick off my quest for Cambodian culture, or embrace my newly-responsible travelling self.

There were chunks of vomit in my hair.

I ended up having to separate from the group and skip the rest of the tour. When they finally found me, two hours later, I was slumped under a tree, sunburnt and covered in bracelets I’d bought so the children would leave me alone. My friends — raving about the tour and glowing from their newfound knowledge — had only one thing left to say to me.

“Is this wear Tomb Raider was filmed?”