Farewell Kampuchea, hello India

Monks crossing the road: a familiar sight in Cambodia

I have now been in Delhi for 36 hours, having flown from Cambodia (Kampuchea to its inhabitants) via Bangkok where we spent a day. The plane ride from Bangkok to India was erm…daunting. It was full of Indian men, none of whom were wearing deodorant, all of whom were necking whisky and soda at a frightening pace, swapping seats and generally giving the air stewardesses a hard time. A group of six men turfed me out of my seat as they wanted to sit together, and just as we came in to land — as the plane was about to touch down on the runway — one got up and wandered down the isle.

Sab, who arrived on a different flight to me from Bangkok thought this was hilarious, and whisked me straight back to her family home on the outskirts of Delhi, where I slept well for the first time in weeks. Breaking me in to India slowly, we spent yesterday in the beauty parlour (haircut, wash and blowdry, manicure and pedicure for £13, brilliant) and last night with her lovely boyfriend Rahul (who I also met in Australia) drinking (rather too much) fine wine. Today we’re off to Agra for the weekend to see the Taj Mahal, but due to aforementioned fine wine the day is starting somewhat slower than we hoped….

I am still processing my journey in Cambodia, which was surprising, humbling and delightful at the same time. I still can’t compute the atrocities that took place there — seeing the beautiful children running around, thinking of those that were brutally murdered by the Khmer Rouge, brings instant tears.

Sabrina with some gorgeous Khmer children

In my last blog entry we were headed to the provincial town of Battambang, between Siem Reap and the Thai border, which had little to offer aside from its bamboo train. This rickety little train consists of a bamboo tray set on two rollers that whizzes through rice fields at about 20-30km. There is only one track, so if you meet a train coming in the opposite direction, whoever has fewer passengers on their bamboo tray has to get off, take their train off the tracks, roll the fully loaded one past and then re-assemble their train before heading on their merry way. We went at sunset, and had the good fortune to be accompanied by a Khmer family meaning all the other trains we encountered had to give way for us.

All aboard the bamboo train!

Luckily we’d planned to spend only 24 hours in Battambang, so didn’t have too much time to kill the following morning. I love markets, so unfortunately for Sabrina (who has market fatigue from living in Delhi) I made a beeline for the central market hoping to pick up a bargain. Five minutes later I came out gagging, having had my first taste of real Asian food stalls — flies, smells and all. I now know why Sab mainly eats vegetarian food here.

Buying a scarf for USD$1

The trip back to Phnom Penh that afternoon was equally interesting. Shunning Rebecca’s advice to travel only on Mekong Express buses (based on 18 months’ experience of Cambodia), we hopped on a Sorya bus at a cost of US$4 for a four-hour journey. Nearly six hours later we finally arrived in the capital having broken down, done several 360° turns, stopped for two “meals”, been stopped by police and eaten alive by mosquitos on the way. I was so relieved to see our friendly tuk tuk driver, Kong, that I hugged him. Such a show of affection was completely inappropriate but I didn’t care. We ordered takeaway spaghetti bolognaise once we got back to Rebecca’s, out of pure fright and relief.

So, the following day I finally managed to get my Indian visa, despite having lost the receipt for my application. At this point I have to thank Sabrina for her endless patience and negotiation skills — HOW could I have been so careless after all the trips I’d made to various embassies around the globe trying to get the bloody thing?? Anyway, Sab saved the day again — I never thought travelling with a lawyer would come in so handy.

Otres beach — one pretty part of Sihanoukville

Our last few days were spent by the coast, fairly underdeveloped in terms of tourism because of the drastic effects of the Khmer Rouge. We headed to Sihanoukville, dubbed “Shitsville” by Rebecca my ever-vocal friend. It’s druggy, dirty and full of Western men travelling on their own — the place is full of massage parlours offering “happy endings”. We were there to dive, however, but that was a let down, too. If anyone else is considering diving in Cambodia, I wouldn’t bother. The visibility was down to about 3-4m, and I saw more marine life snorkeling on Rabbit Island a few days later. Dismal. Still, it was nice to be on the water and I consider myself well equipped to dive in pea soup.

Getting ready to dive — wasn't smiling when I came up

We moved swiftly on to the lovely riverside town of Kampot. Here, like Kep that we visited next, life is slowly returning to the area which is peppered with once-beautiful villas (the architecture is very French here) that are mere shells following the war. The only downside was that we chose to stay in Bodhi Villas, Lonely Planet’s “top pick” but which turned out to be full of smelly, dreadlocked, joint-smoking gap year students. Thinking positively, I thought our treehouse bungalow had a certain charm until I found an enormous caterpillar in my bed and the rain came through the roof.  

Travelling from Kampot to Kep by tuk tuk

And then I had a drive...

In Kep I practiced my newly improved sailing skills by taking Sabrina out on a Hobie Cat. I’d love to say we went out for a blast but it was more of a “pootle”. But the final day by the coast was spent on the beautiful, paradise Rabbit Island, where my camera sadly broke while I was snorkeling. Hey ho. And it was back to Phnom Penh for a farewell dinner and drinks with Rebecca, who insisted our evening should include a couple of cocktails in Raffles. As you do.

View from the sailing club in Kep

It was a sad goodbye to dear Rebecca who has been a brilliant host and even more brilliant friend. The past two weeks have been quite emotional — having made the big decision to leave my job — but I am now beginning to feel relaxed again, helped massively by Rebecca and Sabrina’s pep talks and encouragement.

Rebecca and me coping with Phnom Penh dust

  

How civilised: an after-dinner swim in Rebecca's pool

So the plans for India are to play some polo, practise some yoga, go skiing in Kashmir, diving on the Andaman Islands and visit various other places with Sabrina, Rahul and my old school friend Mignonne, who is coming out to spend 10 days or so with me before Easter.

I haven’t yet booked a flight home, but at some point soon I must go home and start to earn money again. And anyway, I confess that after four months on the road, I am missing my family, my friends and my cats. Oh, and proper loos — the kinds with pots on the top, which you can sit on. Furnished with loo paper, and everything.

Missing these little things desperately...

Helicopters in Cambodia and yet more change...

Now, I resent being called a backpacker (in any case, my bag has wheels) but things have taken a turn for the more luxurious recently. I am sitting writing this in the Foreign Correspondents’ Club in Siem Reap (FCC to the locals), a place that I flew to by helicopter.

Arriving in Siem Reap by chopper

The pilot, Callum, and his fiancé Jess kindly invited us to fly up with them last Thursday (well Jess did, after several jasmine cocktails when we met her the night before). We’d actually booked to travel up by boat, a six-hour trip. Boat or chopper….boat or chopper….As you can imagine it was a hard decision. Jess is a friend of Rebecca’s, and she and Callum run Helicopters Cambodia together.

Everything's great: me and my dive buddy and now travel companion, Sabrina

Winding backwards, I arrived in Cambodia — to the capital Phnom Penh — a week ago. Rebecca has lived here for 18 months, first working for an NGO fighting child trafficking now working back in market research and (very much) enjoying the expat life. Within 24 hours I had joined her on that, having placed an order for a handmade pair of shoes (US$16) and bought some linen to have a pair of trousers made. 

Enjoying the expat life at a rooftop bar in Phnom Penh with Rebecca and Sabrina

Sabrina (please see blog one, packing up my life) arrived the following day and the first thing we did was visit Toul Sleng, the Genocide Museum that used to be S-21 prison. I’ve been thinking about how to put my feelings into words from that day, of walking around the prison where 20,000 men, women and children were tortured in the most disgusting way possible. From 1975-1979 the Khmer Rouge tortured and killed 3million Khmers (Cambodians) when the country was in the grip of civil war.

 In Toul Sleng prison where 20,000 men, women and children were tortured

At Toul Sleng we walked round the barren rooms feeling increasingly sick as we looked at photograph after photograph of each and every person who went through there — their blank expressions of despair so incredibly sad. There are also powerful black and white prints of people on the brink of starvation, shackled to beds in pools of blood. It is a mind-numbing reminder that mankind is not always so kind. We went on to visit the killing fields just outside the capital, where prisoners were taken and clubbed to death (in order to save bullets). The place is eerily quiet and though many remains have since been dug up, there are more to come. As I walked around the deep pits that remain of the graves, I noticed people's clothing emerging from the mud.

Toul Sleng again: words fail to describe this place

That experience, for me, put the people of this gentle country into context. The Khmers are so kind, friendly and welcoming — only 30 years after suffering violent ethnic cleansing and the destruction of many national monuments. Thankfully this didn't include Angkor Wat...

Angkor Wat from the air

Jess waiting at Siem Reap airport for her fiance Callum to fly in 

Anyway, moving on...the helicopter ride was amazing. Callum took us over the brown countryside, the Tonle Sap lake, numerous floating villages and then the great Angkor Wat. Unfortunately, my obsession with helicopters has worsened. Which is rather a worry because I’ve just resigned from Horse & Hound.

When I arrived in Cambodia I had just over three weeks left of my trip but knew I didn’t want to go home yet, nor return to running the newsdesk on such a busy weekly magazine in London. It was an incredibly hard (and sad) decision to take — those who know me well know that I love my work, that I thrive on the scoops, the pressure and the many rewards. But with that has come stress, something my body does not cope with too well, unfortunately. And the fact that I’ve not had a headache or stomach ache in three months — even after being in Asia for a month — speaks volumes. When I get back (I’m not sure when that’ll be now) I will go freelance so fingers crossed…!

Loving the travels: arriving in Cambodia in rush hour

So all that has been rather time and thought-consuming — thank goodness we’ve had very good internet connection where we’re staying in Siem Reap, an apartment owned by Helicopters Cambodia. Jess and Callum were so lovely to offer it to us: travelling is teaching me so much, especially about the many kindnesses of people I barely know.

Great new friends: Sabrina, Jess and Callum the pilot

After a weekend here of riding around the villages on lovely horses, visiting the ruined temples of Angkor and sleeping, window shopping and eating a lot it’s time to move on. Today we take the boat to a place called Battambung then down to Phnom Penh, then after I’ve collected my Indian visa (finally, thanks to Sabrina’s help) we head to the coast. The beaches in Cambodia were opened only recently and are supposed to be stunning — we plan to go diving and take it from there. Life really is hard….

Riding round villages

The ruined temples of Angkor

The new me: life is good when you allow yourself to relax...

Curry, curry and more curry

Excuse me if this blog is slightly rambling. As is becoming the custom, I am writing this in Bangkok airport, with rather a lengthy wait between two flights that I’ve filled with a large Singha beer and a prawn Pad Thai.

Enjoying a nice Thai iced coffee

Since my last blog (apologies for the gap, especially to Jane!) I’ve been on little sandy islands in Thailand and until last night didn’t think I had the capacity to charge any piece of electrical equipment apart from my BlackBerry so had a dead computer. And camera. But, lo, perseverance when bored in a hotel will get the plug in the wall and I’m up and going again.

I leave Thailand with blonder hair, browner skin, smoother feet, a slightly higher capacity for spicy food and my advanced diving qualification. I actually feel like I’ve had a holiday within a holiday, because I’ve taken this portion of the journey very easy, aside from the diving, and probably eaten and drunk a tiny bit too much.

I spent two days in Bangkok after arriving from Auckland, which was a complete change of pace. Some of that was spent fiddling around at the Indian Embassy trying to get my visa and even going so far as to leave my passport (supposedly for five days) before running back to get it when I realised I had no other photo ID with which to catch my flight south the next day. I still don’t have the visa, but know that I can get it this week in Phnom Penh so fretting is over. I can go skiing in Kashmir.

China Town in Bangkok, where I felt like An Idiot Abroad

Aside from that I packed a lot in — a pedicure, traditional Thai massage, foot massage, a wander around China Town where I felt like An Idiot Abroad, a boat trip up the Chao Phraya river past the Emerald Palace with, according to the state of my feet afterwards, the company of a hundred mosquitos.

I also saw some very sad sights. Shark fin restaurants and real tiger skins for sale. I could tell they were real because of how poorly they had been skinned, so sad — such a different culture.

From Bangkok I flew south to a town called Surat Thani and took a ferry in the company of albino pink dolphins over to Koh Samui, to meet Caz and Ivan, friends of a friend previously known as “Claire Next Door” but who will now be “Club Class Claire”. Claire and Ivan run a brilliant dive school on Koh Samui called 100 Degrees East. Divemaster Jonno worked me through my advanced PADI diving qualification, with the help of barracuda, bat fish, blue spotted rays and yes Angus, some red breasted wrasse. The best bit, however, was when one of the boat crew, Noan (I think that’s how his name is spelt!) from Burma freedived down to us to put an anemone on Jonno’s head. I’ve never seen someone hold their breath for that long nor look so at ease under the water. Amazing.

I was staying in a tiny bungalow resort where Caz and Ivan live, in the company of Ivan’s childhood friend Julian and his wife Sally. Julian is a black cab driver from London and the pair were out on holiday for 10 days. Absolutely hilarious company, especially when Julian (despite, allegedly, having a bigger brain than most having done “The Knowledge”) got lost for an hour on a moped trying to find his way back to the resort.

Taking a long tail to my bungalow resort on Koh Pangan - spot the boat boy struggling with my bag

After that I hadn’t made much of a plan, and on Caz and Ivan’s recommendations went to the neighbouring island Koh Phangan, which was described as “Robinson Crusoe eat your heart out” in my Lonely Planet. Though it was slightly more touristy than that, and a bit too "hippy" for me as the home of the full moon party, it was white sand beaches, turquoise water and coconut trees. Lots of coconut in the cocktails, too, and without much to do I read, slept, swam and ate. I had planned to go further afield but discovered that my bag isn’t very easy to transport and wheels don’t work on beaches so it was easier to stay put.

My "holiday within a holiday" on Koh Phangan

This morning bright and early it was back to Bangkok and after five hours here I head to Phnom Penh this afternoon. I’m going to stay with Rebecca, who went to school with Yolanda and has been living in Cambodia for the past 18 months. Sabrina arrives tomorrow, and we’ll make our plan for the next two weeks before we leave together for Delhi (and skiing in Kashmir, I’m not the least excited……….).

I also had a ride on a little baby elephant...

Said little baby elephant (seven) was, like my beloved Porky, a little bit naughty