Yo Chi Minh!

My last day in Phnom Penh was spent mingling with the sex tourists on the riverfront. After the trauma of The Killing Fields, I thought I would spend a quiet day wandering the city, but couldn't really escape the pervy old men with their giggling lady friends. After trotting merrily through a Buddhist temple for an hour thinking it was the Royal Palace, I then found the Royal Palace. Seen one Royal Palace, seen them all. After meeting Chris and Mangesh for dinner in a restaurant that trains street kids in cookery and hospitality (great to see some familiar faces), it was time to get out of dodge. I've taken a delightful souvenir of a leg full of bed bug bites - who knew that in my room with air con and Glee on cable TV and a minibar and crisp cotton sheets I would have been mauled by these little bleeders, looking like I may as well be carrying a frigging bell round my neck.

The border crossing into Vietnam was much more civilised, and I arrived in Ho Chi Minh City to a great family run guesthouse. I spent the first day on a tour of the Reunification Palace, a bizarre time warp with a wisecracking tour guide who I wanted to wrap up and ship straight home to keep me entertained with one liners when I get back. Onto the War Remnants Museum, which was reasonably harrowing, but which I soon managed to erase from my mind with a hilarious dinner on a boat. I'm getting better - I'm eating meat and not fearing instant salmonella so much.

We ended up in Lush, a club in central Ho Chi Minh, which can only be described as Vietnam Does Garlands. A Michael Jackson impersonator abseiled from the ceiling into the crowd to the strains of Beat It. A line of 1920's flapper girls doing the conga trying to sell you cigarettes. A gangsta Vietnamese rapper. 4 guys with boxes on their heads doing a synchronised dance to Adele.

I love you, Vietnam.

After a hilarious trip to a water park, I had to say goodbye to my glasses. It's okay - I didn't lose them, just stored for safekeeping while I shot down waterslides which thank god I couldn't see. I swear I've picked up Typhoid but as I said, I know I was having fun, I just couldn't see it.

30p beers on plastic kindergarten chairs in the street and a guy swallowing a saw, followed by eating hot coals, followed by shoving a live snake up his nose and bringing it out of his mouth and flossing his sinus, I have to stay here. Going to meander up to Hanoi in the north. Thailand can wait.

The Killing Fields of Choeung Ek.

I've arrived safely in Phnom Penh after a reasonably hideous 6 hour bus ride. I caught up with Fran and Beckie who I am basically stalking round Southeast Asia (sorry girls). Phnom Penh is a bustling city, with a beautiful riverfront and lots of bars and restaurants. Visited the National Museum yesterday, followed by cocktails on the riverfront and the most amazing traditional Khmer Amok, a White fish curry served in a banana leaf. I'm seriously going to leave my heart in Cambodia.

My first stop today was The Killing Fields, around 15km south of the city. The Killing Fields were basically a mass execution site where the Khmer Rouge would take prisoners from the city for execution and burial. It's estimated a million people, up to 300 a day at this particular site, were killed in the 4 years of the regime. Doctors, teachers, lawyers, pop stars, movie stars. People who wore glasses or spoke a foreign language were killed, deemed "intellectuals" and a threat to this fanatical regime.

The memorial site is set within an old orchard, and is incredibly peaceful. But it is difficult to even begin to put this place into words. I took the audio tour, and at one point was instructed to look down at the ground. There were fragments of bone, teeth and old clothes coming up from the mass graves below, revealed by the heavy rain. The caretakers of the site collect the newly uncovered remains every few months.

Perhaps the most difficult part was the so called "Killing Tree", which was situated next to a mass grave where the remains of women and children had been discovered. The officers of the Khmer Rouge would swing the babies by their legs and smash their heads against the tree until they were dead. A Khmer Rouge slogan was that "to remove the grass, you must also destroy the roots".

As I emerged into the quiet daylight, red eyed and exhausted, my tuk tuk driver Chey asked me how I felt.

I couldn't answer him.

I continued on to the Genocide Museum in the centre of Phnom Penh, to piece together some more of the history at the Tuol Sleng prison,or S-21. It is a former primary school, used by the Khmer Rouge as a detention centre and torture house. The instruments of torture remain in the cells, along with galleries of the prisoners' faces. I read that in Cambodian tradition, without a proper burial, the ghosts of the dead remain present on earth. It was a startling and terrifying experience. Perhaps what I find most incomprehensible is how a people could ever recover from something like this. The Cambodian people are without doubt the friendliest, most welcoming I've ever encountered, but I'm finding it hard to put into perspective.

On to Vietnam on Wednesday.

Water Water Everywhere..

..And not a drop to drink. Unless you want Dengue Fever. It is with a rather heavy heart that I have decided to leave Siem Reap and head to the capital of Cambodia, Phnom Penh. The novelty of wading through a foot of floodwater to get anywhere has kind of worn off, and although I would have liked to have stayed longer, I've seen all the temples I wanted to see and decided it would be better to leave on a high. I'm tagging along with a guy from my guesthouse on the 7am bus tomorrow. Apparently it's a step up from the bus the locals use which usually has chickens in the gangway, but still, 6 hours will be a treat. Hopefully I can sleep.

After deciding to have a day in the city yesterday, and stopping on Pub Street (think South East Asia meets Magaluf) at lunch to write in my journal and "reflect", I got sloshed on my own on the super strength local beer and had to have a 3 hour nap.I did stumble across a number of specialist crocodile leather shops on the main strip though, which is where it turns out the crocs have got to, in the shape of gross handbags and purses.

Today was Day 3 of temples, which started in the most almighty thunderstorm and a moto ride to Bayon. This place was immense, and an early morning start in the rain meant it was almost deserted. It felt like an area in Disneyworld, and in my bright yellow poncho, I half expected to turn the corner and see a neon sign saying WELCOME TO ANGKOR WORLD, GET READY TO GET WET! and for Mickey to be there trying to sell me a ten dollar shake. But it was real, or maybe unreal is a better description.

Onwards on the Grand Circuit, and more temples, I knew I'd seen enough. Tired and wet, it's time to move on.

Cambodian Counselling.

A conversation with a Cambodian street kid went a little something like this:

"You want to buy my book?"
"No thank you."
"How long you been in Cambodia?"
"Just a few days."
"Where you from?"
"England."
"Where you live?"
"London."
"You want to buy my book? Please mister!"
"No thank you."
"The Prime Minister of England is David Cameron. Before him Gordon Brown. Before him Tony Blair. Before him John Major. Before him Margaret Thatcher. Before him Callaghan."
"Oh very good!"
"You know there are 65 million people in Britain and 1 million people in London."
"Oh wow!"
"Britain has four countries. The capital of England is London. The capital of Scotland is Edinburgh. The capital of Wales is Cardiff. The capital of North Ireland is Belfast."
"You're really good at geography!"
"You on your own?"
"Yes."
"Where your girlfriend?"
"I don't have one."
"You know why you don't have girlfriend?"
"Why?"
"Because you don't buy my book. Bye bye."

Angkor WHAT!?

After a restless first night's sleep in a malarone induced delirium, thinking about crocs and snakes and pirates and onward travel, our tuk tuk driver Piri arrived to collect us from the guesthouse at 11am.

I purchased the 3 day temple pass, and for another $12 per day, we were driven around for the whole day to visit the temples of Angkor. Our first stop was of course Angkor Wat, which without exaggerating really does take your breath away. The heat was oppressive , but with each new temple and each new layer of sweat, came another tuk tuk ride with it's cooling breeze and a chance to sit back and take it all in. I resisted doing any Angelina Tomb Raider rolls in Angkor Thom (the 'Great City'), but for the most part did feel like I was on the set of a movie.You have to see this place, it's too difficult to describe in words.

After a long hard days templing, and realising I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast (or, weirdly, been to the toilet), Piri took us to our last stop. Feeling hot, tired, thirsty, sweaty and cranky, the words "ökay, now you climb the hill to watch the sunset" didn't exactly sound like music to my ears. Running on empty, we slogged the last of the way up the hill to the final temple. The cloudy sunset may have been a bit of a damp squib, and the jabbering Korean tourists didn't exactly help, but for a few moments and without sounding like a cheeseball, I really did feel like I'd achieved something, and was at the top of the world.

Today was the second day of touring, which we started 55km out of Siem Reap at Beng Mealea. This was breathtaking. An old, crumbling temple which was once used as a hideout for the Khmer Rouge, the surrounding area had only recently been cleared of landmines. We navigated ourselves through the middle of the building, climbing over rocks and crumbling carvings - again, I'm finding it hard to put into words so will upload a million photos ASAP.

Now, to the floating village. I had no idea what to expect at the floating village. I kind of thought it would be a few crappy souvenir stalls on stilts in water, which you maybe had to get to on an antwacky boat with plastic seats. I was so wrong. We took a dirt track down towards the Tonle Sap, the world's largest body of freshwater, but couldn't get through to the marina where the boats normally leave from. So we were taken on a tiny rowing boat, steered by a 7 year old Cambodian kid, through the flooded forest to catch a larger boat on the Tonle Sap. My sense of geography leaves a lot to be desired, but I didn't even realise we were on a lake it was so vast. The floating village of Kompong Phhluk was incredible; an ethereal, other worldly almost out of body experience. This community of hundreds literally lives on water, for me an assault on the senses and imagination.

Another quick temple, and back into Siem Reap to the night market, where I bought 2 t-shirts and a pair of jarg Ray Bans for about a quid. Some Cambodian street food for another dollar, and 20 fags for 20p (not for me), we headed back to the hostel.

After only a week, I'm getting better at being a traveller. I now only anti-bac 10 times an hour instead of 100 times, and have grown quite fond of the lizards that live outside my room. A cockroach jumped on my neck earlier, and I didn't even scream that loud! Still brushing my teeth with mineral water though.

Having originally been headed to Phnom Penh on Saturday, I've just booked another 3 nights here. I bloody love this place.

Welcome to Scambodia.

Today has been a long day. Waving bye bye to Bangkok, we took the 7am bus to Siem Reap in Cambodia. Or at least in that general direction. I'd stocked up on vital provisions for the 12 hour journey, but obviously scoffed them all in a traffic jam in Bangkok.

Our minibus driver dropped us off near the border, at a smart looking cafe, where we were handed immigration and quarantine forms. Luckily on the advice of others, we soon realised it was our first scam, and stood our ground when we said we just wanted to be driven to the border to get our paperwork, without paying these jerks an extra 20 quid. They luckily obliged, and we arrived at the chaotic Thai-Cambodian border. Heathrow Terminal 5 it was not. Of course at the exact right time, the rain arrived, particularly hot and stinky today, and we were left drenched, wondering where the hell to go, and what was real and what wasn't.

We made it to the actual visa office, where the officials charged us the full visa fee of $20, plus a few Thai baht on the side. I initially tried to argue that this was not what we were supposed to be paying, but for the sake of 4 quid I was pleased not to be dragged into some backroom and have a Cambodian finger shoved up my butt and just paid it.

Another pretty stamp in my passport and another minibus ride to the exchange station on the Cambodian side, we were told we would have to wait another 2 and a half hours for a coach, which would then take 5 hours to Siem Reap. We thought better and hopped in a cab organised by our guide, which would take 2 hours and we could leave there and then. After our cab driver stopped in the middle of nowhere and picked up a number of rolled up bamboo shoots and a cellophane bag of brown stuff (I'm still hoping this was ornamental decking for his garden and a bag of desert sugar), he dropped us in Siem Reap. A further moto (tuk-tuk) ride later, we realised the whole damn place was completely flooded. We were dropped at a random hotel where our kindly guest house owner came to meet us. With flood water up to our knees, I guess it was kind of like a bad year at Glastonbury, and I've seen plenty of them, only this time with added Dengue Fever (there's currently an outbreak). We took what they call a "Cambodian limousine" (a tractor carting residents around) the rest of the way.

Our hotel is usually near the river, although at the moment it's actually in the river, with waves right outside the front door and which we had to wade through the flood to get to. I've also just been informed there was a crocodile farm down the road, where they rear the crocs for meat in little bamboo pens. Only when the flood waters rose, the crocs slipped out on their merry way and probably into my bedroom.

There are no words. Big shout out to my travelling buddies Fran and Beckie for seeing me through this character building, life affirming experience / ordeal.

Our tuk-tuk for Angkor Wat is booked for 11am tomorrow, where hopefully things will start to make sense.