To The Land of Fried Tarantulas!

We decided to wave goodbye to Vietnman and usher in Cambodia via the Mekong Delta which winds its way through the continent and in many places acts as an concrete border for an area that has spent much of its time disputing the more malleable ones. Not only was this a more scenic route but having endured buses for the last three weeks we were keen to avoid another one and were glad to see our little chugger pull up in the dirty brown water.

Two days, three boats, one ferry and three taxis later we eventually arrived in Phnom Penh. It was a somewhat gruelling journey but included several interesting stop-offs at a local Cham village (that tricks tourists with the perception of its riverside shacks and shanty town image but several metres walk through reveals a bustling town!), rice-paper and fish plantations, a coconut production chain that turns coconuts into everything imaginable and a rather limited bike ride around rural Vietnam - all designed to provide toilet stop-offs that aren't a hole in the boat and an opportunity for the locals to sell us their wares. It was a budget package and we got what we paid for which included a free hotel stay-over on the first night which required a three hour taxi journey (including a brief ferry ride) with a driver who spoke no English and drove off while Liz and Kristy were going to the toilet while I frantically tried to explain to him the absence in the back seat. We were looking forward to the free dinner being laid on at the hotel but when we discovered this amounted to one bowl of soup or one bowl of rice or one bowl of vegetables we ended up dining at a local cafe over the road and gorging ourselves on spring rolls.

The second day was a long and complicated way of getting through Vietnamese and Cambodian visa officials which required multiple stop-offs at different agencies who all did different things rather than one collective office which added to the intensity of the cushionless seven hour boat ride meant we were well and truly exhausted by the time we arrived late in the evening in Phnom Penh. However, we did share the final taxi ride with a brilliant American family who kept us entertained as they regaled us with their stories of being present in Tiananmen Square during the massacre and their work as geo-physicists which had taken them around the world.

We took the easy option of staying at the hotel advertised by the package that we had bought as it included a free pick-up from our random drop-off point on the other side of the river and ended up with the most gigantic room at The King Guest House which had four beds in it and meant that I had to shout from the west wing in order for Kristy to hear me in the east wing! We had been hanging out with two guys we met in Saigon (Kev and Luke) and escaped to Lorenzos, a fabulous Philippino restaurant to celebrate our arrival and then topped it off with a bakery stop in what has become almost a tradition of our travels!

Phnom Penh is famous predominantly as a reminder of the horrific genocide incurred under Pol Pot's reign which massacred nearly 2 million people, a quarter of the population. I had read a couple of books prior to our arrival in Cambodia and so was somewhat prepared for the atrocities but even as we walked the streets it was almost unimaginable to conceive how only thirty odd years ago the Khmer Rouge had managed to evacuate the whole city after their takeover, sending everyone into the countryside to form their perfect classless, moneyless agrarian society.

What remained in Phnom Penh was Tuel Sleng, the prison where suspected enemies of the regime were incarcerated, tortured and killed. Horrifically, before the Khmer Rouge took over it was the city's high school and so the classrooms were turned into torture chambers and the playground into an execution pit. Inevitably it draws parallels with the Nazi crimes at Auschwitz but whereas the sheer size and remoteness of the gas chambers brings you to tears in Phnom Penh it is the incredulity of stumbling upon the Prison known as S-21 in a small sidestreet surrounded by houses and walking around the innocent foundations of a school that has been contorted into a death camp.

After a couple of hours in this haunted building we escaped to The Boddhi Tree, a small cafe almost next to S-21 but which in the spirit of Cambodian eateries offers outreach and charitable programmes, where not only do some of the profits go to those less off but they also offer free schemes to train young people to become chefs. I think we had several of the new recruits while we were there as none of our orders arrived as planned but we were more than happy to let this go just to sit in the leafy garden and feel that in the tiniest way we were giving something to a country that has been so badly mutilated.

With the history, logistics and purpose of S-21 spelled out by our visit to the museum we proceeded to Cheeung Ek, or The Killing Fields, which are exactly as they sound, an out of town set of fields where those who were not killed in S-21 were murdered: ordinary, every day people who had been or were suspected to be former Lol Non supporters and/or enemies of the Communist regime, dragged from their villages, trussed up and marched out to the Killing Fields where they were brutally executed. Driving to the site in a roaring tuk-tuk it is a churning sensataion to follow the road signs marked simply Killing Fields.

The site is commemorated by a gigantic white stupa with transparent walls that reveal the thousands of skulls recovered and housed inside. It is both a macabre and heart-breaking testament to the people whose lives were lost but serves the purpose of drilling home the scale of the massacre. it also offers relief to the Cambodian people who believe that if you are not ceremoniously buried then your spirit cannot locate its former body in the afterlife and therefore those killed in the fields are doomed to an eternal limbo until their bodies are recovered. Walking around the fields is a queasy task. Huts have been erected over excavated pits to mark where mass graves were but even the very paths linking these huts that you hav to tread reveal protruding bones and clothes of people still buried under the ground. The huge trees that stand in the Fields all have labels detailing who was killed against them so that even the most innocent of things are tarnished by the bloodshed.

After such a brutal day we hooked up with Kevin and Luke and took a tuk-tuk to the riverside, the prominent bar and restaurant area and managed to get a table at the reputed Khmer Borane where we tucked into a feast of traditional Cambodian dishes including Lok Lak beef, Amok, Cambodian sausages and crispy rice washed down with the local beer.

There was just time in the morning before our bus to Siem Reap arrived to get to the bakery and stock up for the six hour ride which remarkably, given the Vietnamese adventures, passed extremely smoothly. The bus driver warned us all as we approached Siem Reap that when we got off we would be hassled by the locals so we had to follow him straight into the office and wait for our pick-ups. As hardened travellers used to the demanding touts we sniffed at this suggestion but as soon as we stepped off the bus it was like being viciously mobbed. About eight small children grabbed one of my bags and tried to tear it open and it required all my strength to drag it into the safety of the office where there seemed to be an invisible line that prevented them from barging in and properly pilfering us. We were also faced with another problem in that on the journey we had decided that we did not want to stay at the sister hotel of King's where we had a pick-up already pre-arranged and so spent our time in the cafe pretending we did not know who this Kristy was that all the drivers were looking for before we could safely escape.

Given it was late in the evening and we didn't have a prior booking we couldn't settle for any of our first choices and ended up at the Siem Reap Riverside which seemed a great idea as we sat in the lofty first floor of The Soup Dragon having dinner but turned out to be a complete disaster. Seeing we were tired and not having much luck in finding a place the hotelier lured us in with the promise of free breakfast and internet only for us to find in the morning that they were not only charging us an extra $5 to stay but were also charging us each $5 for breakfast, limiting us to 30 minutes of the slowest internet connection and had given us a room without a working shower. Fuming we left and managed to check in to the much better Garden Village although by then we were really late for our trip to the Angkor Temples.

Doing our bit for ethical tourism we eschewed the formal trips and instead hired our tuk-tuk driver. Savouen, to give us a guided tour of the temples and ended with him inviting us to his cousin's party! This required two full days though the amount of temples there are you could easily take a week. Our first day was spent jigging around in the tuk-tuk on the bumpy 65km ride to Beng Mealea, a huge abandoned temple sunk in the middle of the jungle that not many people go to visit because of the distance but which was worth every numb bumcheek as an introduction to these magical lost worlds. On the way back we stopped off at Bakong, a five-tiered sandstone pyramid dedicated to Shiva, which we weren't allowed in until after 5.30pm when the guards had gone so that our guide could sneak us in without paying an entrance fee....

The second day began with the famous Angkor Wat which is a colossus. How they built such a gigantic temple, so intricately carved and which has withstood thousands of years without the technology available to us today is mind-blowing. It was built by Suryavarman II to honour Vishnu and also become his funerary temple but also represents the spatial universe with the long bridge over the moat representing the crossing of the mortal world and the huge tower reaching up to the heavens. My favourite part of the Temple however was the exquisite bas-reliefs etched into the wall celebrating the Churning of the Ocean Milk, a mythical scene whereby the gods are pulling on a cord against the devil-serpents and the friction produced churns the waters to produce the elixir of immortality.

We then proceeded on to Bayon which was my favourite Temple because of its 216 gargantuan faces built into the many towers rising from the building so that you feel as if you are being continually watched, an apt represenation of godly omniscience.

We drove through the rest of Angkor Thom without stopping off, passing the Terrace of Elephants and feeding the pot-bellied monkeys that gorge on the tourists' weaknesses before heading to Preah Khan, Banteay Srei and Ta Prohm. The latter was the setting of Tomb Raider and is marked by enormous trees whose tentacle-like roots strangle what is left of the Temple.

We celebrated our last night together with a feast of street food which was so cheap and tasty it makes you wonder why you would ever want to eat at any of the restaurants before visiting the the Night Market and seeing out the day in the fantastic roof-top terrace of the Garden Village which not only has dirt-cheap beer and a brilliant soundtrack but also streams Wimbledon so that I was able to watch Djokovic's horror exit!

It was sad to part with the girls. Liz and I travelled for a month together and managed to accomplish so much in that time and then teaming up with Kristy (a fellow pastry-addict) we formed a great little threesome with an incredible pool of books and ipods!! But they had to head to Ko Chang and I wanted to go to Battambang before I met back up with Hiren and the boys so we said our goodbyes and I endured the most bumpy journey of my travels so far as we crashed along the cratered road from Siem Reap whose singular trunk reveals the horrors of the landmine-potted countryside which is still yet to be cleared and restricts the Cambodians to such little safe land space.

Battambang ( translated as the town where you leave behind your bamboo!) is the second biggest city in Cambodia though you would never guess. It has a sleepy French riviera feel to it and in my first day I managed to explore the complete width and breadth of its perimeters taking in the brilliant fresh food market, earmarking the best cafe for cookies and brownies and finding the tiny Catholic church.

My main purpose for visiting Battambang was to do the legendary Smokin' Pot cookery course. Cambodian delicacies include embryo eggs, fried tarantulas and grasshoppers so I was a little apprehensive as to what to expect but ended up being delighted as I saw my two favourite dishes, Amok (a fish curry wrapped in banana leaf) and Lok Lak beef on the menu. The course is run by a fantastic Khmer chef who took us to the market to show us what we need to buy, what to look out for in our ingredients and most importantly how to haggle! We then headed back to the restaurant and sat outside under the awning grinding our pastes and frying our meats under his careful eye. The amok I made was delicious and though my Lok Lak was a bit too peppery for my liking this I at least know how to make it. The only disappointment was the mango salad as there is no amount of convincing me that adding smoked fish meat to mango shards, shallots, onions and chilis is going to taste eatable! We graduated and were presented with a great little cook book to use when we get back home - so be prepared!

Cambodia has unfortunately owing to the tightness of my schedule been all too fleeting. While I have not missed out anything I wanted to see (with perhaps the acception of lounging on Serendipity Beach in Siankhouville) I could easily have spent much more time in each place; Phnom Penh, Siem Reap and Battambang could all take a week, but I have to meet the boys and so once again, it is back on the bus!

FAVOURITE PLACE: Garden Village - bargain price for a delightful, homely hostel with a great communal area and fantastic vibe.

FAVOURITE FOOD: I am officially a Lok Lak fan - obviously the one I cooked! Siem Reap street food! Sunrise Coffee House cookies!

WHAT I'M GOING TO MISS: The Cambodian children are the most friendly people I have met yet; everywhere they greet you with beaming smiles, stubby fingers waved in the air and complete delight on their faces when you say hello back and offer a generation of hope for the brutalities suffered by their parents and grandparents. The philanthrophy of Cambodian organisations determined to make up for the past.

WORST PLACE: Siem Reap Riverside - first time I've encountered unfriendly staff...

WORST FOOD: Mango salad with fish?!?!!? The Cambodian penchant for peanuts...in everything!

WHAT I'M NOT GOING TO MISS: Bumpy roads; the visible signs of the Khmer Rouge's legacy etched into the scars and deformations of a generation of Cambodians....

BOOKS I'VE READ: 'My Sister's Keeper' and 'Change of Heart', Jodi Picoult (As Kristy is a big fan she lent me a book and persuaded me to buy another. I think I've now got the Picoult formula! She explores interesting ethical themes and is perfect for a good holiday read!; 'War on Asia', Noam Chomsky (Startling how prophetic a book this is considering it was written during the Vietnamese war and lambasts American foreign policy and stands fast as a representation of and argument against the war in Iraq forty years later. Sadly, has anything changed?)

QUOTES: "There are only two ways to live your life. One is though nothing is a miracle. The other is though everything is a miracle." (Albert Einstein); "Humans are tuned for relationship. The eyes, the skin, the tongue, ears and nostril are all gates where our body receives the nourishment of otherness. This landscape of shadowed voices, these feathered bodies and antlers and tumbling streams - these breathing shapes are our familyu, the beings with whom we are engaged, with whom we struggle and suffer and celebrate" (http://www.boddhitree.com/ - on the back of their menu); Kristy - "The only person I have ever met who spells their name the same way as me was a huge black guy from France" Liz - "oh, that must be Linford then!"