Guest writer Isobel writes:
Between us, Jason and I have eaten a fair few unappetizing 'delicacies' from
around the world such as 'Balot' (partly formed duck eggs soft boiled),
Whitchety grubs, snakes, bird's nest soup and probably a bit of dog and horse
inadvertently. So when we found out that there was a town dedicated to the
rearing (in specially designed underground tunnels) Tarantulas for consumption,
we felt compelled to add this delicacy to the list...
On the very dusty and potholed (or mine holed?) road from Battambang to Phnom
Penh, we stopped for lunch in a town where there was a road side stall selling
the very things we were egging each other on to taste. Piled high on a bamboo
plate were skewers, each with three or four black and shiny tarantulas spiked
through the thorax.
Now call me a coward but up close and in the harsh light of day, I suddenly
lost my appetite and was gripped by acute Arachnophobia. Jason bravely selected
the best specimens - ones that didn't look too traumatised from having being
dropped into boiling oil alive. Thinking that we might have
been a little too
hasty in actually wanting to try these stomach-turning beasts, we graciously
decided that they would make a very tasty welcoming present for Simon and Mark,
my London neighbours whom we were meeting later that night.
Even though we knew logically the super spiders were well and truly toast and
tucked away in a plastic bag, we prudently zipped them up in the
daypack.
To get from Battambang, we had 'bought' the two back seats of a clapped out
saloon car - that's two places each (they pack four in the back and two on the
front passenger seat!). Sharing our taxi was Miss Piggy, the plumpest Cambodian I've even encountered
who had bought the front seat.
Miss
Piggy threw us a wonderful surprise - after our stop, out came a bag containing 5
skewers... With four greasy tarantulas on each. She proceeded to munch her way
through 20 spiders, systematically pulling otff one or two legs at a time, then
popping the thorax whole into her mouth and a few moments later spitting the
unmunchable bits into her hand. All the while her screeching voice gabbled away
to the taxi driver. Fortunately, Jason, who was feeling slightly
nauseous, either because of my running commentary on her eating habits or
because the taxi was more often airborne than on terra firma, was sitting behind
her.
In Phnom Penh, Simon and Mark surprised us with a goody bag full of English essentials from
Harrods - tea, jam and biscuits.
We did think our present was a bit more
thoughtful and imaginative, but for some reason they didn't quite agree. The
skewer sat on the bar for a few minutes whilst everyone looked suitably
disgusted and intrigued at the same time. Eventually the spectacle became too
much and back in the bag they went. It wasn't until later on in the evening, and
after several more jugs of strong cocktails, that we dared each other to munch
the snack. Jason started to poke a thorax and I even tried to pull off a leg.
But the greasy smell was overbearing and the furthest any of us could go is
captured in the pics. I think Mark left them as a tip for the chambermaid.
Flashpacker adds:
Jason Hunt - We must do lunch sometime!
Yum Yum!
