staterooms are outfitted with swank ensuite bathrooms and balconies with—of course—river views, as well as delicately designed wooden furnishings and surprisingly comfortable beds. There is a small but welcoming pool on the sundeck, a popular spot for reading and relaxing. The restaurant, where our meals—including a festive kick-off dinner— were served, dishes up Vietnamese and Cambodian cuisine alongside Western standards. Free-flowing local wine, beer and spirits are poured all day and until the last passenger goes to bed at night in the indoor bar and lounge area. And spa and salon facilities are available for those passengers who would like to indulge in massage and beauty treatments. Like the other ships now plying the Mekong thanks to a surge of interest in the storied river, the AmaLotus bookends the cruise with visits to Hanoi, Siem Reap and Saigon. By the time passengers board the ship, many have already visited the Vietnamese capital and taken an overnight junk through Halong Bay. They have explored the backpackers’ (and increasingly boutique aficionados’) paradise of Siem Reap and they have roamed the fabled ruins of Angkor Wat. And while those headline destinations bolster the itinerary, it is the hidden gems in the more remote reaches of the river that truly separate this trip from a standard tour of Southeast Asia.
day one: We awoke to the sun rising over the mekong, the mouth of which the AmaLotus had sailed through during the night. Days start early along the
river, long before the sluggishness of the afternoon’s heat and humidity sets in. It was peaceful as the river slowly began to wake up. Our first stop was the market at Kampong Chhnang. Yes, floating villages are a dime a dozen in this part of the world, but this was our first encounter. We were wideeyed and camera-happy as we sailed past homes and businesses bobbing atop the water. As we drifted along their liquid highways and byways, we passed women and men casting their fishing nets, canoes and boats weighed down with all matter of materials. But Kampong Chhnang isn’t entirely on the water and we docked our motorboats to explore the bustling market ashore, where local vendors were selling and cooking everything under the Cambodian sun. It was breakfast time, and the food stalls were swarmed with local patrons getting their fill of soups, noodles and rice dishes. The smell was intoxicating, a sizzling mix of grilled garlic, spices and meat filling the air in large aromatic plumes. This was the first of many times we would hear about the balut egg, a duck embryo cooked and eaten in the shell. I’ll admit to sheepish sensibilities about such things. I made a pact with myself to never to get up close and
The water, reflecting the sky’s mood, was silver and restless
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