In 2007 Nick and I had scheduled our Cambodia trip to avoid Songkran in Thailand. My wife thought this voyage was simply a sex tour, but we passed through Koh Kong and Sihanoukville without a passing glance at the local talent, mostly because S-ville's Chicken Farm has been dramatically reduced by the port expansion and the bars of Victory Hill were devoid of pulchritude. The taxi drivers vainly attempted to hook us up, but we opted to wait until Phnom Penh.
We arrived in the capitol in the late-afternoon and installed ourselves at the Hope and Anchor Hotel on Quai Sisiwoth. Several beers smoothed the edge of a five-hour bus trip and darkness turned our minds to Sophie's Bar.
The sleaziest bar in the world.
We rode our rented dirt bikes around 153 St.
For 30 minutes.
Finally finding the infamous haunt of sex tourists.
No lights.
The doors shut.
I asked the taxi drivers, "What's up?"
They signaled with their hands.
Closed.
"Closed?"
Nick asked, "Why?"
"How the fuck should I know." I tried to hide my disappointment, because I considered Sophie's Bar one of the Seven Wonders of the world. Its closure was more tragic than the Taliban's blowing up the giant Buddha statue in Afghanistan. After all those statues were stone and Sophie's Bar was flesh and blood.
Martini's and Sharkey's were too tame for my taste and I returned to the hotel alone to sat with Peter, the owner.
"Is Sophie's closed permanently?" I had to know for socio-anthropological reasons.
"No, only for the Buddhist holiday by order of the mayor. He didn't consider it a holy place of worship. Not like some. But it will be open after the New Year."
"I'll be gone then."
"Win some, lose some."
"Yeah." Next year I would have to plan my trip more carefully.
Anything to preserve antiquity.
SOPHIE'S Bar - #9E, Street 118/53
Short time - $10 for one/ $20 for two.
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