Vang Vieng - an essential stop

Vang Vieng is just under half way between Vientiane and Luang Prabang. Many travellers pass it by - big mistake. Small enough to have retained its charm, but large enough to have plenty to see and do, VV is an excellent spot to spend a couple of nights while touring the Lao highlands.

Fi and I catch a bus from Vientiane, and the lowland plain soon give way to hills and increasingly steep terrain, where the road grinds its way over steep passes to finally arrive in VV five hours later.


The limestone karsts of Halong Bay look like they've been transposed to the Laotian highlands.



First step is deciding what tour we want to take, and the caving/kayaking combo looks the best. As usual, we meet up with other travellers, and join forces with Tara, an English girl from Brighton. We discover she almost splits Fi's and my ages, but we get on fine despite the half-generational gap.


The caving is brilliant. With lights strapped to our head, we tube in to the cave and head upstream for half an hour or so. At the odd spot we need to get out and walk - a bit reminiscent of the Cu Chi tunnels - but soon we're back in the tubes again sculling our way up against the gentle current. A bit cool, but at one stage a hot spring feeds the stream and we enjoy a warm bath. Having spotted the tiny bats in the cave roof we turn around and head back to the entrance.


Time for a bit of sunbathing before lunch.

We take in a reclining cave Buddha - time to contemplate our increased physical activity in the afternoon.


Next step is in to the kayaks for a blast downstream, with a few minor rapids to add a bit of excitement. Tara and Fi share a double while I'm in a single. It takes them a while to get used to tandem paddling and steering, but get the hang of it ok.

With memories of my unplanned dip in the Wanganui River in January, my camera is safely stowed in the drybag, but we don't have any incidents.


In true tourist fashion we stop at a drinks station on the river for a bit of liquid refreshment. The place is pumping - loud western music, Beer Lao, whiskey buckets, and sunbaked Westerners everywhere. Hardly an authentic Lao experience, but a lot of fun anyway.

Fi and Tara have a go at the swing - about 15m above the river, and with good momentum you can drop about 10m at the other end. More cautious swingers come back for a modest 3m drop in to the water. I pass as my left shoulder's still giving me a bit of trouble.

Fi and Tara were appropriately dressed in T shirts over their bikini tops. Fortunate, as a couple of the bikini-only girls lost their tops on the way - to their mortification and early high plunge in to the river, but much to the amusement of the boys.



Fi celebrates half a dozen jumps with a well-deserved Beer Lao. A very tasty drop by the way - Vietnamese, Cambodian and Lao beers come highly commended. You can also get a very good dark Beer Lao - not dissimilar to a Speights Old Dark.




We pull in to our disembarkation point well satisfied with our afternoon's efforts. We're also pleased we chose the kayaking option, as we could have tubed the river instead. But tubing is slower, you're at a bit more risk of bruises over the rapids, and the last couple of hours are very cold once the sun dips below the hills.

We say goodbye to Tara after dinner. She's staying another day at VV while Fi and I head north to Luang Prabang. But she's following us up the following day, and we may well catch up again.

Vientiane

It's Monday morning 10 December, and our plane for Vientiane leaves at 10.05am. We plan to get to the airport at 9am in plenty of time for check-in.

But we're a bit slow having breakfast and checking out, then I want to stop at the Post Office to send off some Christmas post cards, and it's further to the airport than I thought...

We arrive at the check-in counter at 9.20am three minutes before it closes for our flight - cutting things pretty fine! We barely get a chance to pay our $25 departure tax (what a shock!) and look round the terminal - the flashest part of Cambodia I've seen on my entire trip. Our plane takes off 15 minutes early - now all the passengers are accounted for.

We touch down briefly in Pakse in southern Laos before arriving in Vientiane, the capital, just before lunch. An expensive taxi takes us to our preferred hotel (determined from a knock-off Lonely Planet guide Fi borrowed), but it's fully booked, and without a backup option we're in the taxi driver's merciless hands. Fortunately he takes us to an adequate hotel fairly handy to everything, where we discard our packs and set off on foot to explore the city.

Vientiane has a huge amount of appeal. It's a lot smaller than the other Asian cities, and the low density of traffic combined with wide French-designed boulevards make for easy walking and road crossing.

We stop in at Subaiadee restaurant for our first taste of Lao cuisine and are favourably impressed - much more adventurous use of spices than Khmer food, and my taste buds are reacquainted with chili, lemon grass and ginger. Fi and I both feel like trying the local brew so we order a couple of bottles of Beer Lao - and are surprised when two huge 640ml bottles arrive! But it's thirsty work walking around town, and the quality of the beer makes it slip down very easily. I kindly help Fi with her bottle too.


We appreciate the temples and French architecture as we make our way to the river promenade, and are disappointed to find the Mekong is hundreds of metres away in the distance. It's the dry season, and the river has retreated from its flood plain, but as we walk north a little tributary comes in to view, and makes for some stunning sunset images.


But perhaps the "sun sets over the Mekong" images are getting a bit predictable now.

We decide we can knock out the sights of Vientiane in a day, so book Tuesday's 2pm bus to Vang Vieng.


And that's pretty much how it pans out. The day starts with breakfast in the Joma bakery cafe, and I finally get to experience the first decent latte I've had since leaving home. A couple of stunning Buddhist temples are covered in quick succession (with a naga having a go at Fi), and we spend an hour picking up T shirts and a bracelet in the Talat Sao market.



On to Patuxai, visually similar to Paris' Arc de Triomphe but with a Lao twist. It's also known as the vertical runway. Apparently the Americans gave Laos a load of cement in the mid-sixties to build an airport, but the government decided to build a monument instead.


The famous Pha That Luang stupa is the last of our monuments, and spectacular it is too. Unfortunately it is now midday and it's closed for lunch, but an exiting tourist says we're not missing much inside. We explore the adjacent temples instead, and this is where Fiona has a very strange experience.




Buddhist monks are at pains to keep their distance from attractive young women, so imagine Fi's surprise when this middle-aged monk directs her to sit down on the steps of the temple and proceeds to give her a massage! Firstly her back, then her legs and knees, but he sensed Fi's discomfort as his hand drifted up her thigh. So round to her back again where he gave it a crack like a chiropractor! Time was pressing by now so Fi had to leave, but felt a bit awkward. Thank him? Give him a donation? Run like hell? She pointed at the gate, said "Khob chai" (thank you), and strode back to the entrance.

We're on a tuk tuk (known as a jumbo in Laos) now as it's quite a way back in to town.



These things get along pretty well!

A bite to eat and we're on the bus to Vang Vieng, with time to reflect on our Vientiane experiences. And it's all positive. Of all the Asian cities I've visited so far, it's the only one I'd consider living in to take on an assignment. Relatively clean and modern, without the bustle and pollution of Hanoi and Saigon, and without the smell, sleaze and poverty of Phnom Penh.

The French influence is still there - not just the architecture and street signs, but the European influence combines with the strongly Buddhist culture to provide the best blend of lifestyle I've experienced to date. The Lao people are lovely too, not just their personalities but their finer features make them more physically attractive than their southern neighbours.

Vientiane - a great city. Roll on the highlands of northern Laos.

Angkor magic

Getting away from Phnom Penh has us in a bit of a panic. Fi finds there's more VSA work to do than planned, but we're already booked on the 1pm bus and the clock is ticking...

But we do have time for breakfast with Fi's colleague Anna and her family - parents Adrienne & Paul, and brother Jeremy. Great chatting with them and swapping notes on our talented daughters.

With minutes to spare we're on the bus to Siem Reap. I'm not unhappy to leave PP behind - my least favourite Asian city so far.

A couple of Indian girls in the adjacent seat ask to borrow my Lonely Planet Cambodia guide - they're off to view the Angkor temples too and need to do some preparation. Fi and I speculate on their accents - I pick English and Fi picks Australian. Fi's right - they're from Melbourne. We chat away for the rest of the trip, and arrange to meet up for dinner. Marcella is the older sister, and emigrated from Madras with her family when she was nine years old. Lucy, 10 years her junior, was born in Australia.

Siem Reap is a real party town with so many foreigners. Hotels and eateries everywhere, the latter concentrating in the aptly named Bar St. We meet at the Soup Dragon and the girls enjoy two for one cocktails as we decide to join forces and plan our Angkor strategy.

Fi and I are committing the ultimate sacrilege - we're only allowing one day to see the temples. Three days is recommended. But time is precious now as Laos and northern Thailand have to be squeezed in before Christmas.

So that gives us time for only four temples - Angkor Wat, Ta Prohm, Preah Kahn and Bayon.

We discuss transport options. Angkor Wat is 7km north of town, and the other temples are on a circuit approximately 5km apart.

• Car or 4WD - too expensive and unnecessary
• Horse or elephant - impractical and expensive
• Hot air balloon - only provides an aerial view
• Helicoptor - as above with the added burden of the $1,000/hr cost
• Tour bus - spare me. I don't speak Japanese or German
• Tuk tuk or moto - a strong possibility, but a bit expensive
• Walking - cheap and cheerful, but the distances are too great
• Bicycles - the obvious choice!

We meet up in the morning at a bike rental shop. The bikes look a bit sad and well worn, then we spy some bikes in the back of the shop so new they've still got their bubble wrap on. Tandems! Well why not? Should be a better power to weight ratio than singles too.


I check out Fi's and mine - all is good. We go for a test ride - no probs. Marcella and Lucy look over the second tandem and go for a ride - they're not so confident and haven't quite mastered tandem riding. The seats are also wrong and can't be easily adjusted, so we swap bikes. More brake adjustments but in our hurry to get going I fail to check the chain tension on the second bike.

With Lucy on the back of my bike and Marcella on the back of Fi's we set off for Angkor - running a bit behind time now. About 3km up the road the loose chain for the rear pedaler on my bike slips off the sprocket and the power to weight ratio takes a serious dive as Lucy gets a free ride. I click in to grunt mode and we still make reasonable time.

Finally Angkor Wat comes in to view, and I marvel at the sheer scale of this walled and moated city (1,500m x 1300m) encasing a huge temple. The architecture, engineering and craftsmanship is astounding, particularly considering it was built in the 1100s. Over this period the Ankgor kingdom spread through most of Vietnam, Laos and Thailand, and Angkor was a bustling metropolis of a million people while London was still a scrawny town of 50,000.

But part of me also thinks of the suffering of the labourers as they sweated away for nearly half a century to build a monument to megalomaniacal Suryavarman II, not content with just being King, but pretending to God-king status. And of course he had to better the temples of his predecessors.


Fi takes the style award, but my ears don't get burnt.


It's steep up there - suitable for God-kings only. Now cordoned off - likely for preservation of both the crumbling steps and tourists with mortal failings.


The scale and grandeur is counterpointed by incredible detail in the carvings. Every stone surface has a story to tell.


Within the outer walls. This place is huge.

It's getting close to lunch time now, so with three temples yet to see we head off to Ta Prohm. Quite a hike in the heat, not helped by ongoing chain problems.


Ta Prohm is the temple that reminds us that nature will quickly reclaim what man has carefully constructed if unmaintained.


Amazing seeing how the trees have started from a toehold and completely dominated and destroyed the temple.

On to Preah Kahn, and more bike problems. My bike now gets a punctured front tyre, and we have no tools or repair kit. As Marcella and Lucy have three days here, we split up and Fi and I carry on with the good bike, while Marcella and Lucy seek out a tuk tuk. As it happens, they just beat us to Preah Kahn.


Difficult to show in photos, Preah Kahn has incredible symmetry. Four processional walkways converge on a stupa in the dead centre of the temple. This eastern structure looks like it was imported from Athens.

On to Bayon in the late afternoon sun.


Hundreds of benignly smiling faces look down on you from every direction - the ultimate in quiet control and domination over one's subjects. There is no escape from the all-seeing eyes.

And my pick of the temples? Angkor Wat is majestic but doesn't quite do it for me. Similarly Preah Kahn. It's a toss up between Ta Prohm and Bayon, but in the end I think the symbolism of nature reasserting itself over man's futile attempts at vainglory put Ta Prohm at the top of my list.

But all in all a brilliant day - temples, our friendship with Marcella and Lucy, and our mechanical troubles combined to make it all highly memorable.

Fi and I fly back to Siem Reap on the tandem - leaving tuk tuks and motos in our wake. We arrive back at the bike hire place at the same time as Marcella and Lucy, and the four of us have a stand-up row with the owner of the bike rental place. We insist on a full refund for the faulty bike, he insists the charges stand as he now has to fix the puncture. The Mexican standoff lasts for 20 minutes until they finally agree on a compromise - a 50% discount. We all walk away happy and no one loses too much face.

Sad - tomorrow is my last day in Cambodia. But Laos beckons, and finally I'll be on equal footing with Fiona - she's never been there, and neither of us know the language. Should be a lot of fun.

The Bokor workout

It's Friday morning and we're eagerly awaiting our trip up Bokor Mountain to see the old French hill station buildings. To escape the oppressive heat of the coastal plain, the colonial French built a hotel, church, casino and supporting buildings on the top of 1,000m high Bokor in the 1920s. Many indentured labourers perished building the 42km sealed road, which took over five years.

We've chosen the more expensive hotel tour, swayed by their arguments of better 4WDs and a better lunch. Pickup is at 8am.

8.35am comes and goes and no pickup. We're seriously debating the "quality" of this trip with the hotel management, but they assure us the driver's on his way, delayed by others not ready on time. I eye up a nice Honda Baja XR 250 in the foyer and think this would be a great way to get up the mountain.

Sure enough the 4WD arrives, and we're on the back tray sitting on narrow lengthways-running bench seats. Some padding, but not a lot. There's a grab bar in front of us, and I wonder how much it will be needed. It was a sealed road after all. Fi smiles - she's done this trip before when she first got to Cambodia.

No problems for the first few kms. We buy our tickets for entry to the National Park and head on up the hill.

The road was indeed sealed - back in the 20s. Since the French abandoned the place in the 40s it's received next to no attention, and approximately 0.01% of the seal now remains. The remainder consists of ruts, washouts and pot holes, dropping from the seal level by 300 to 500mm. Definitely 4WD and Baja/Dakar bike country - a few foolhardy cars and motos attempt the trip, and a few occasionally succeed. The rest are waylaid with flat tyres and cracked sumps - indicated by ominous trails of oil in the dust.

After an hour and a half of kidney-destroying jolting and dodging low-hanging undergrowth we finally get to the place where the King attempted to build a palace. No this isn't it - though I guess you could sling a nice hammock in the gatehouse. I was more intrigued with the "Friends" sign. I'd feel a bit more inclined if some of our entrance fee went in to maintaining the road.

After another half an hour we finally make the summit, and start having a look around.


Fi chats away to our guide in both English and Khmer as we enjoy the view out to sea.


Looking through a Vietnamese machine gun platform from a hill above the church to the old casino 500m away. The Vietnamese finally defeated Pol Pot's Khmer Rouge in 1979, but at considerable cost to Cambodia - anything of value here was ripped out and taken back to Vietnam, so the monuments are pretty stark. The Khmer Rouge were holed up in the Casino, and they took pot-shots at each other - certainly plenty of bullet damage.

The casino is particularly impressive. Imagine something the size of Sky City built here. Even better, the French casino had an impressive ballroom, with a huge open fireplace against one wall. I idly thought of a Ceroc party here - it must have been fun back in the swinging 20s - if you were part of the French elite. There's talk of building another casino here - it's certainly an impressive spot, and would bring much-needed revenue to the region, but it's important to keep the old buildings as well.

People still live up here - there's a Ranger station (important as the Park is under threat from poachers and illegal loggers), and a temple where seven monks live. We had the opportunity to look around, and check out the wildlife.


Fi gives this monkey a banana I've carefully stashed in my bag for afternoon tea. I'm not impressed! The monkey looks pretty well fed by the monks to me.

Our grinding two hour trip back down is thankfully broken by an opportunity for a half hour jungle trek. Supposedy to a waterfall, but it's a dry creek bed in the dry season. A remarkable absence of wildlife - perhaps a good thing. There's a few tigers in the park, but fortunately not too close to us. The Gary Larson in me sees two tigers anticipating the arrival of meals on wheels as another 4WD chugs up the hill.


Finally back on the flat, and our trip is completed by a sunset cruise along the river back to Kampot.

And very pretty it is too. The river is integral to the way of life around Kampot - kids even take boats to school.

A paraglider would be a great way to get the view without the hill trip, but we're on our way back to PP tonight, and we have to book an exclusive taxi at this time of night. $30 instead of 2x$5, but it has to be done to get us back on schedule. Fi has a lot of VSA work to conclude.

We hear the "cheap" Bokor trip had problems. Both their 4WDs broke down, and their guests are just starting the sunset trip as we conclude ours. It is worth paying for quality after all.

Our bodies are aching from the trip - our bums from the seats and our arms from desperately hanging on to the bar. Legs have had a good workout too with the jungle trek. We sink in to the back of the taxi, hoping for a bit of sleep, but the driver's on a mission from God to get us to PP as quickly as possible. Recall the road condition? Sleep is impossible as we get jolted around the back seat, our heads propelled off the headrests if we dare lean back and close our eyes.

On arrival in PP Fi disappears off to VSA and with second wind I go for a stroll and have dinner. A Thai restaurant offers expressos and lattes. Really? My first opportunity for a decent coffee since leaving home?! Sadly I'm disappointed - watery milk with the merest hint of an expresso shot. Perhaps Thailand.

I listen to The Doors' Light my Fire wafting out from a nearby bar and think of the comforts of home. But peripatetic life is demanding, and it's back to the hotel to plan the Angkor attack.

After the Bokor workout, my eyes close as soon as my head hits the pillow.

Kampot, Kep and Rabbit Island

Lonely Planet says the road from Phnom Penh to Kampot is variable. Mental note - write to Lonely Planet and advise them the road is now appalling. Sealed, yes - but the pot holes would tax the suspension of a Merc, let alone that of a clapped out Toyota Camry taxi whose shocks expired a few dozen trips prior.

Of course we want to get to the coastal town of Kep, but the taxi only goes to Kampot, leaving us 20kms short of our destination. Motos to the rescue, and we enjoy a pleasant, if bumpy, trip to the first visible part of the coast, where there's an array of fine restaurants for lunch.

That's $3 each for the moto trip. Ah - you want to get to the boat to Rabbit Is - that's 4km away and will be another dollar. Suspecting a scam, we break for lunch, and our host says the boat's only 1.5km around the corner.

With my heavy pack on my back, we set off after lunch. Fi has the foresight to bring a day bag from PP. Moto and tuk tuk drivers accost us - You want a ride, 4km to boat, only $1. Yeah yeah - just round the next corner, and we wave them on.


I've hear there's good seafood to be had around here...

Approximately 4km later we arrive footsore at the wharf. Perhaps not everyone's out to scam us!

A pleasant trip for half an hour across to an idyllic coconut palm-fringed island, with not a nightclub in sight. Bliss!


We settle in for a bit of R&R with some fresh coconut juice.


And check out our lodging for the night. A bit rustic, but what more do you want on a desert island? If you want nightclubs, bars and noisy tourists, go to Sihanoukville.


Sorry about the rotated photo, but I have to show you what we had for dinner.

There's a bit of heavy overnight rain, but our thatched roof holds up and we don't get wet at all. I'm up early for a morning swim - the water is crystal clear and warm. Fi, bless her cotton socks, forgets to bring her togs! I of course had everything in my pack.


We go for a walk around to the northern point of the island after breakfast before our boat leaves to take us back to the mainland. The wind's picking up a bit and I can see a few whitecaps - could be an interesting trip.

We pile on to the boat with a few other tourists and head out in to the channel. The swell's running at over a metre now and the wind's over 20 knots. No concern, but the Swiss girl beside me doesn't like the spray in her face as we pitch in to the waves, and pulls out her umbrella. I can't believe it! I spend the rest of the trip guarding my face in case a sudden gust takes an eye out.

We get back to Kep and subsequently Kampot to find there's no way to get to Bokor Mountain today. We debate skipping it, but we've heard that going to Kampot without visiting Bokor is like travelling to Siem Reap and not seeing the Angkor temples, so decide to book for tomorrow and make up time with a late taxi dash back to PP.




This gives us plenty of time to chill out in the evening, where we eat at a restaurant perched precariously on stilts over the river. A fantastic dining experience, so long as Fi doesn't slide her chair back too far. OSH would have a fit! Stay tuned for Bokor.

Good bye Svay Reing

It's Tuesday 4 Dec, the day Fiona finally leaves SR. I have a misconception that Fi will be all packed and ready to go mid-morning so we can get to PP and on to Kampot as per the itinerary.

What I didn't figure on was all of Fi's friends coming round in the morning to "help" her pack! After endless tearful farewells and group photos, we finally get away at 4pm. But I have a chance for some last minute activities myself...


Watching the local horses taking a bath in the lilly pond outside Fi's front door. These horses are tiny - more Shetland pony size, but they're pulling carts all over the place.


Getting in a bit of gym work.

Finally we're in a shared taxi on our way to PP. The music, as ever, is Cambodian. The experience is not dissimilar to listening to poetry aboard a Vogon destructor ship (for those few of you not familiar with this reference, I earnestly recommend you read Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy).


One advantage of travelling at this time of day is watching the sun set over the Mekong. Also better than travelling in the oppressive midday heat, where the aircon is marginal if it exists at all.


Fi bargains for a snack aboard the ferry. Hard-boiled eggs anyone? Can't even to begin to describe what's in the tray.

Interesting travelling the Cambodian roads (this is the traffic engineer in me). They use rumble strips to warn of hazards like speed restrictions and areas with a high density of pedestrians or cyclists. An excellent idea I thought, until I saw how motorists treated them - pull over to the left lane as though overtaking, and increase speed! But there could well be a place for them in NZ - perhaps on approach to railway crossings, where Kiwi's drive blindly in front of trains with disturbingly increasing frequency.

Perhaps we could learn from PP's traffic lights too - both the red and green phases have countdown timers to let you know how long it'll be till the lights change. Similar to what's just appeared in Queen St for the pedestrian phase.

We get to PP and check in to our hotel for the night. Whenever I go for a walk without Fi I'm a target for moto drivers asking if I want a girl - $10 is the going rate. The traditional Cambodian approach to sex is very conservative. Boy meets girl, they go out, hold hands, play fight, but no serious stuff, and definitely no pre-marital sex. On graduation they'll marry - some with arranged marriages. Things are a bit looser in PP, where boys may go out and buy a "broken girl" (the literal Khmer translation of prostitute - and the worst insult you can make to a female).

One good thing is that there's very strong education and signage around two major sex issues for Cambodia - HIV/AIDS and child prostitution. Signs for "Number 1" condoms are everywhere, and the penalties for child sex are severe - 20 years in a Cambodian prison, followed by conviction and imprisonment in your own country as well. As it should be.

But now it's off to Cambodia's south coast for a bit of R&R.

Phnom Penh

PP has the potential to be the pearl of Asia, sitting at the confluence of the Tonle Sap and Mekong rivers. Parts of its French and Khmer heritage are spectacular, and its relatively low population density (compared with Hanoi & Saigon) make for slightly less crazed road crossings. But it has a long way to go. More an irritating grain of sand than a pearl at this stage.

There's a lot of grinding poverty outside the "nice" parts of town, and the roading and sewerage infrastructure is woefully inadequate. I don't get the same good vibes from PP as I did from the Vietnamese cities - I feel just a bit more on edge here - not quite as relaxed. Part of it is the much greater difference between rich and poor. Word has it that the graft and corruption help the rich get richer, while the poor remain as poverty stricken as ever. A major difference from neighbouring Vietnam.

But to get here. Fi, Michael (US Peace Corps girl), Rachael (VSA volunteer working with Fi) and two REDA boys all need to get to PP on Friday morning. We share a taxi (no - there's no bus service as one might expect), and start the two hour journey up the main drag to PP.

Uneventful trip as I chat away to Rachael, but curiously we need to get on a car ferry to cross the Mekong. A simple bridge would do the trick here, but Cambodia clearly doesn't have the funds to build one yet. And this is the main highway from Phnom Penh to Vietnam!

We say good bye to Michael & Rachael, check in to a very Cambodian hotel a bit away from the tourist part of town, and grab a tuk tuk (moto pulling a covered trailer that can take up to six people) to the National Museum - Fi's keen to show the boys some of Cambodia's treasures from the past. Interesting of course, but statues and artefacts in display cases don't do a lot for me. In fact we're all much happier outside in the courtyard looking at the fish ponds.



Now a more harrowing encounter with Cambodia's recent past, with a 15km trip out of town to the killing fields at Choeung Ek. Thousands of prisoners were brought here during Pol Pot's ruthless genocidal regime in the late seventies where they were bludgeoned to death (to save on bullets) and thrown into an array of pits.


Even children, who'd had the misfortune to be born into an educated family, were brutally murdered here. All were wiped out in a misguided attempt to achieve a "Great leap forward" in socialism. What happened was a great leap backwards to the stone age, from which Cambodia is still struggling to extricate itself.

The stupa (Buddhist monument) erected to commemorate the dead looks out over the pits. On arrival we place an incense stick at the entrance and proceed inside, to be confronted by hundreds of skulls...



More disturbing is the realisation that this is just one shelf. As you cast your eyes up, the gruesome scene is repeated, shelf after shelf after shelf.

It's a very sobering experience walking around the pits and the killing trees.



More so when you look down at the path - yes those are human bones I'm walking on.

We return to the hotel, reflecting on why such atrocities had to happen - over two million people were killed during Pol Pot's reign of terror. Unless you were a peasant or factory worker blindly following the Khmer Rouge doctrine you were exterminated. Please may the 21st century be more enlightened than the last.

On a lighter note, readers will be delighted to know there's an excellent brand of bottled drinking water available in Cambodia.



Though the slogan is a worry. "Steve - the quality drops" could do with a bit of rework!

We meet up with a couple of Fi's friends for dinner - and choose a German restaurant of all places. But at least they have a dark Ankor beer - the first I've found. Not bad - similar to a Black Mac.

Saturday morning and I do battle with the shower. What is it with Cambodians? The detachable shower head is wall-mounted about a metre above the bath - perfect for a three year old. Anyone bigger has to hold the nozzle while showering and soaping down - finishing quickly before the meagre supply of hot water runs out. A towel rail? You want a towel rail in a bathroom?? Whatever for? I pick my towel up off the adjacent toilet seat. And don't even think of checking your appearance in the mirror - there isn't one.


We head out to Wat Toul Tompong to visit Fi's friend Simpat - a Buddhist monk, and he's good enough to show us his dorm room, and around the temple. I'm a little surprised - I thought monks were ascetic and didn't have any possessions - but Simpat has quite a bit of stuff in his room, including a computer. Fi explains that monks are quite well off in Cambodia.


Wat Toul Tompong's a magnificent temple, and we're privileged to be allowed inside where tourists never go.

I say good bye to Fi and the boys at this point - they're returning to SR by taxi while I stay on for another day.

First stop is the nearby Russian Market, but it does nothing for me and I head for the next sombre point on my itinerary - the Toul Sleng museum. Toul Sleng, or S-21, was once a school until it was converted into a prison by the Pol Pot regime.

I arrive in time for a one hour documentary - the heartbreaking story of a couple who had just married when they were separated, with the wife taken to the countryside. We hear the letters they wrote one another as they progressively lost hope of ever seeing each other again. Eventually, she was murdered in the fields where she worked, while he was taken to S-21.

Just like the Nazis, the Khmer Rouge were meticulous at recording the thousands who came through the prison to be tortured and subsequently executed at the killing fields. Only a handful of prisoners who entered S-21 survived. The images, as usual, are disturbing.



Row after row of faces - some quizzical, some sombre, some terrified. Worse are the images of the children. Innocents who have no idea of the cruel fate to befall them.

I wander around the areas where prisoners were imprisoned and tortured horrifically. Why do I choose to come here? Surely travel and tourism should focus on having a good time?

Yes and no - there are plenty of opportunities for the fun aspects - but countering that are the deep emotional moments that shape your thinking for the future.

But moving on.

My gut starts to pinch and rumble as (I think) last night's dinner makes itself known as an imminent LBM. I head for the toilets and sink down with relief in the nick of time, only to discover a complete absence of toilet paper. I acquaint myself with the little hose attached to the cistern, and find it's not too bad. Ok, ok - enough of Steve's toilet experiences around Asia!

I wander over to the tourist shop wondering what on earth they can sell in this place as a souvenir, and to my surprise find a remarkably good Cambodian paper knife. I debate the morality of buying a knife in this place, but figure it's a fitting memento. Another for my collection - and definitely Khmer.

It's a long hike across town to the Royal Palace and Silver Pagoda, but it's worth a look. The palace is opulent - a stark contrast to the poverty outside just a few metres away. The pagoda too seems out of place with jewel-encrusted gold and jade Buddhas, and a solid silver floor.



More interesting is the walk along the riverfront, where I finally get a better appreciation of Phnom Penh as a river city.



Which brings me to the Post Office (no postcards to be bought), and Wat Phnom - the founding temple of Phnom Penh. First time I've come across monkeys too.



Wat Phnom is a great little temple.



Sitting on the hill overlooking the new American Embassy, it's a lot more austere and down to earth than the Silver Pagoda - much more in keeping with the people for whom it provides spiritual guidance.

I make my way back to my hotel and manage to run a 3cm bath before the hot water runs out. No worries - tomorrow morning I'll wash my top half.

The trip back to Svay Reing is a bit of a mission. Easy getting to the Olympic Markets from where the taxis leave, but I sit in my minivan for an hour before it finally fills up with passengers and goods. Air conditioning? Of course - that's what happens when you open the windows.

I choose the best seat on the shady side with lots of legroom. Then someone arrives with a brand new moto - yup - into the van and its front wheel is shoved between my legs. I quickly change to the seat beside me before anyone else grabs it. It's a dusty trip back - a lot of the road is under reconstruction, and the dust is terrible. The task of watering the road to aid compaction and reduce dust clearly isn't in the scope of this project!

We get through the roadworks and are finally barreling along at 80k making up time when suddenly the van screeches to a halt. Four guys get out and calmly relieve themselves on the roadside in full view of our one female passenger before we continue. Not unusual in either Vietnam or Cambodia - the absence of public toilets I guess. It's pretty basic here.



At the ferry vendors surround us offering everything from bread, fruit, gum, drinks and shrimps. I pass on the shrimps carried on this lady's head in the hot sun - I can smell them before I can see them.

Svay Reing finally comes in to view, and having sat on my bum all morning decide to walk the 15 minutes to Fi's house. Good to be back "home".

All of Fi's friends are lovely, and I can tell she's sad to leave as she does her final pack. They're very complimentary to me too - apparently I'm very young and pretty. I guess I'll take that as a compliment!

Tomorrow Fi and I leave SR permanently, and after stashing her luggage at VSA in PP, we'll head to the south coast for a bit of time at the Bokor National Park, and a sandy tropical island off Kep. I think I'll enjoy this Cambodian experience a lot more than my time in PP.