Few establishments could be more depressing than a Sihanoukville casino. Stony faces. Empty rooms. Pleading eyes from hostesses and table dealers desperate to hit their quotas.
Not too long ago, I wondered why Chinese whales (high-rolling punters) would fly all the way to Australia to gamble when cities like this, on the southern beaches of Cambodia, were so close to home and designed especially for them.
Having visited a few casinos in Sihanoukville, it is now a little clearer. The venues we chose, at least, are not places of revelry. They are bright and shiny, stale and despairing. As quiet as libraries.
