Hopping the border (quicker going out of Vietnam than it would prove coming back in), the last week has been spent trying to see as much of Cambodia as possible in what would end up being too short a period of time. Will be wanting to come back for sure- assuming that President Xi hasn’t decided to seize Cambodia for China, whilst Putin carves up more of Eastern Europe, and President Trump helps himself to bits of Europe.

Christ… you go away for like two months… and the American Government goes proper South America/South East Asia against NATO allies. One hates to say I told you so…

We’re all fucked.

He’ll be coming round the mountain when he comes, he’ll be riding a 125cc bike with a flashing engine warning light and an unidentifiable rattle when he comes…

I’d read in a tour book somewhere (not those God awful ‘Lonely Planet’ ones… maybe Marco Polo? Not that those are great. Good maps though. ANYWAY) that many tourists end up skipping Kampot. Just across the water from Phu Coq, and given the aforementioned skipping, it seemed a nice idea to cross over the border into Cambodia at this quieter point and spend a few days and nights seeing Kampot.

Easily the best decision I’ve made on my travels so far.

Kampot is a vibrant, busy, and welcoming city. There was an abundance of both traditional Khmer food as well as some more western, and bloody well made, burgers. Cambodia Beer is the absolute bomb and there were a number of cocktail places where we got fairly well rat-arsed. On arriving into Kampot a long walk along the river was a welcome opportunity to stretch the legs after a smooth if slightly long journey from Vietnam. I had a relatively early night given I was up at 3am to tune into Charlton’s third round FA Cup tie against Chelsea.

Easily one of the worst decisions I’ve made on my travels so far.

The following morning, and after an alarmingly short conversation with the chap behind the desk during which at no point did he ask if I had a driving license or had ever been on a bike, we rented a 125cc scooter. I promised my mum I’d complete, as a bare minimum, CBT training before riding out here but the rental place didn’t seem that bothered. Oh well.

The Kampot region is famous for it’s pepper so we hit the road to La Plantation- a local fair trade spice and pepper producer. It’s also the home of the World’s first (so they claim) museum dedicated to the pepper grinder. So there’s that. An excellent tour guide took the eight of us (6 Germans, 1 Irish, 1 English) around the site followed by a series of pepper and spice tastings where he talked us through each of the farm’s products. The vast majority would have been the perfect addition to a bloody mary and yet… and yet… the plantation bar does not serve them. Madness.

The next day was spent on the bike as we wanted to make the most of the $7 dollars a day rental, and the deposit of my passport. We headed up (and later back down) the steep and winding roads of the Bokor National Park. For the fourth time in three days, we bumped into the mother and son whom we shared a car with across the border from Vietnam and into Kampot. This suggests either Kampot really isn’t that big or that the aforementioned adventures were really not that original in their thinking.

Riding through the forests, climbing the mountain, scooting past roadside monkeys begging for food off motorists, was one of the best experiences of my life. I am officially hooked on motorcycles. Hooked. Whilst I accept I possibly don’t look as much like Austin Butler in ‘The Bikeriders’ as I would like, I do think the motorcycle lust is the perfect accoutrement to my rolling mid-life crisis. It complements well, I think, my planned tattoos.

The views from the top were spectacular, as were the off the beaten track waterfalls. Stunning.

$14 dollars well spent. And I did get my passport back.

Loads of tourists? Angkor Wat tourists?

A ten hour bus journey later and we were in Siem Reap for two days(ish) to see the ancient temples of Angkor Wat. We had been widely warned that it would be teaming with tourists and that you wouldn’t be able to move for toffee. These warnings came thick and fast from the driver, my dad, hotel staff, and other tourists.

Absolute bollocks.

We basically had the site to ourselves for the day. Absolutely stunning. The variety of the temples kept the seven hours stimulating, as well as the knowledge of when it was built and by whom (including a pool the size of several football pitches which the then King had had dug out for him. Join a union.)

From wikipedia: Angkor Wat is a Theravada Buddhist temple complex and the largest religious complex in the world. Located on a site measuring 162.6 hectares (1.6 km; 401.8 acres) within the ancient capital of Angkor, it was constructed between 1113 and 1150 CE during the reign of the Khmer king Suryavarman II.

From my camera:

Phnom Penh out of ten

Back to the Cambodian Capital of Phnom Penh for a few days and for the second time on my travels (after Melbourne) I regret not making more time for a place. Phnom Penh was so full of stuff that I could have easily spent a many more days exploring everything the city had. Big boulevards, dozens of bookshops (bought more. Moron.), bars, coffee houses, and many more historic sites.

The runs meant that my run had to be on the gaff’s treadmill rather than out in the streets but still- I’m trying to keep the Cambodia beer belly off. Honestly- nicest lager I’ve had.

The Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum and the Khmer Rouge regime

The Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum is the memorial site of the S-21 interrogation and detention center of the Khmer Rouge regime. It was really well done with a thorough and informative audio guide. I also met a survivor of the center and had the opportunity to speak briefly with him about his experiences there.

I’ve been reading Philip Short’s ‘Pol Pot: The History of a Nightmare’ which is a well-researched and well-paced history of not just Pol Pot’s biography but the years and causes leading up to the genocide.

Last bus out of Saigon

Back to Vietnam and we set off for what turned out to be a 16 hour bus journey from the Cambodian capital to Da Lat, via Ho Chi Minh City. Several hours delays on the border (power outage shut everything down) meant that it was a mad, BBC travel show style race across Saigon to get the last bus out of the City and into Da Lat. It was then an 8 hour sleeper, decidedly cramped, to Da Lat but I am chuffed to say I still managed to get three or four hours sleep.

We met a couple who have been dating ten months, been travelling the last 5 months, and moved in together within 2 months. Intense. The mad dash meant we didn’t get chance to exchange details but they were a class pair and I hope their long way down to work in Australia is a success.

Have been in Da Lat last couple of days and loving it. I’m back on another motorbike and making plans for the journey north.