After the Malay village, we got back on a boat (are you noticing a theme yet) and headed out onto another attraction on the Mekong river: a fish farm! It was way cooler than the crocodile farm. I know what you are thinking, but Rorey, they kill the fish too. Even though I can’t explain it rationally, a fish farm (for me) is better than a crocodile farm. It could be because the fish were actually living in the Mekong river, which is their natural environment, with nets around them instead of a tiled pool, or it could be because I did not see the fish all jammed together since they were under the water, or it could plainly be because I eat fish regularly, but there was a difference. The fish farms were also, more of a family run small business, instead of a huge complex like at the crocodile farm.
None the less, it was fun. We climbed gingerly out of the boat, careful not to fall into the river and hopped onto the floating farm.
We headed into the building and saw an open room with two holes cut out for access to the water. The guild talked a little about how the farm works and the purpose of the farm, and then let us feed the fish.
It was wild. When you walk in, you can barely see signs of the fish on the surface of the water, but when we fed them the huge dog food sized fish food pellets, the fish went berserk. I thought that some of the fish were going to flop right out of the water.
The guide even asked for a volunteer and the poor sucker that volunteered got soaked to the gills trying to catch one with his bare hands.
The gentleman working at the fish farm was not amused and let our guide do all of the talking while he took a smoke break.
These are the bags of fish food that were stored in the corner. I can’t even imagine how much they must go through each day with all of the tours coming passing by.
And then, surprise, we got back on the boat and headed back to the bus passing by some wonderfully lasting Mekong memories; the last that we had of the mighty river.