Kep Crabs

Kep is a small coastal town half way between Kampot and the Vietnam boarder. It was once a prosperous place full of mansions and grandeur, frequented by rich French expatriates. Now, many of those mansions lie derelict and abandoned, and local people have reclaimed the land, setting up shanty houses in the grounds or converting the shells of the buildings into make shift shelters.

Abandoned overgrown mansion, Kep. 

Kep is famous for its crab market, where you can eat some of the cheapest, freshest crab in Cambodia. At the market, women dressed in rain coats and big hats wade out into the ocean to collect submerged woven baskets full of newly caught crabs. We picked out our crabs, still live, and the lady boiled them in front of us on a wood burning stove. A couple of minutes later we (and by ‘we’ I mean Ric) were eating crabs and homemade chilli sauce next to the ocean. Can’t get much fresher than that.

Catching crabs.

Cooking crabs.

Eating crab.

Kep crab market, all sorts of barbecued fish and seafood are available.

From our guest house (Rega Guest House) we hiked uphill towards the National Park. On the way we discovered Jasmine Valley Eco Village, an abandoned resort set in the jungle, high above the town. Once one of Kep’s most renowned resorts, Jasmine Valley is now a ghost town. There’s still toilet paper in the tree house suites and books still stand on the shelves in the library, their pages curling in the damp. It has only been abandoned for six weeks, since the owner ran up too many debts and fled the country, and it really felt like everyone had just disappeared. The jungle is slowly taking over the resort, covering the foot paths and taking over the restaurant. The swimming pool is overflowing from the heavy rains and fish swim in the murky water. From the top of the resort there was a wonderful view of the ocean. Although we were tempted to stay and claim the place as our own, we carried on up a steep incline and joined the National Park road, which winds around a mountain affording some good views out to Kampot and the area around Kep. It was a pleasant shady walk and we spotted a few monkeys along the way.

Deserted tree house at Jasmine Valley Eco Village.

Overflowing pool at Jasmine Valley.

View out to Kampot, from Kep National Park.

Kep has a good beach, small but with fine white sand. After three days of heavy rain we were finally able to top up our tans and enjoy the sun.

Kep beach.

We’re enjoying our last few nights in Cambodia before our visas expire on 8^th August and we cross over into Vietnam. We’ll be sad to leave.

Kampot

After five nights in Phnom Penh we took the bus to Kampot. The 170km journey took a tedious five hours and we were relieved to finally have a bed for the night in Kapot Pepper Guest House. Kampot is a small town close to the South coast of Cambodia, surrounded by salt flats, pepper plantations and the locally named elephant mountain range.

Ric at Kampot's Durian Monument. Durians are an asian fruit that taste like gone off melons. They also stink and can be smelt from several meters away.

Lilly pond in Kampot.

Kampot’s main attraction is Bokor Hillstation 1080m above sea level. The hill station has been a much disputed area since its construction in 1920. It was first occupied by the French who built luxurious mansions and a casino that still stand today, abandoned and supposedly haunted. During the Asia-Pacific war the Japanese took over the hill station but where defeated by the Khmer Rouge in the early seventies. By the end of the seventies the Vietnamese took over the mountain and finally, left it to the Cambodians. We took a tour up to Bokor on possibly the most miserable morning we’ve had so far. The entire mountain was shrouded in a mist that hid the dilapidated buildings until we’d walked right up to them. The abandoned casino and Catholic Church looked spectacularly spooky in the swirling mist, with the wind howling through the doorways. Unfortunately we didn’t have any sort of view over the surrounding land but we did stop at a nice waterfall.

Spooky Bokor Casion.

The Catholic Church built by the French.

At the waterfall.

Included in the tour was a sunset river cruise. After the weather we’d had in the morning we had no expectations of a sunset but boarded the wooden catamaran and settled in for a relaxing cruise up the river. As we travelled further out of Kampot we passed fishermen on their way out to sea, they didn’t look particularly thrill to be spending the night on their old wooden fishing boats in the open sea. After an hours boat ride we stopped and some of the more daring passengers (Ric) jumped into the river and splashed about with rubber rings whilst the captain and his family ate their dinner. To our surprise the monsoon clouds parted and we were rewarded with the most stunning sunset we’ve seen during this trip. The river cruise was really a highlight of the day for us; it was wonderfully relaxing and we sat comparing travel stories with two English girls off the tour.

Beautiful sunset.

It’s easy to walk around Kampot and take in all the sights (of which there are few), but it’s really worth getting out into the countryside and seeing some of the surrounding area. We took a tuk-tuk to Phnom Ch’nork caves where a local nine year old girl asserted herself as our tour guide and directed us around. It really wasn’t necessary to have a guide, the area and the cave are very small, but she was a cool kid; she spoke brilliant English and made some witty jokes.

Our cute little guide, overlooking rice fields outside of Kampot.

Children in the village by Phnom Ch'nork cave.

One night we ordered food in our hotel restaurant, deciding to treat ourselves to a rather expensive burger instead of the usual fare of rice of noodles. I went for a bacon cheese burger and Ric ordered a maxi burger. When the burgers arrived I had bacon, cheese and bread but no burger. Ric’s maxi burger was two fried eggs on a bun. He was furious and stormed into the kitchen to find his burger, after all $5.50 for an egg butty is extortionate. After a confusing exchange with the manager, the chef was able to resolve the problem; she held up a burger bun and said “yes, burger”. Something had been lost in translation somewhere along the line.

Phnom Penh Breakdown

Aside from the dark tourism in Phnom Penh (the Killing Fields and the Genocide Museum), we found the city to be a quaint, relaxing capital. The main sights are all within walking distance of each other and it's easy to find your way from one place to the next. 

Of course the main attraction is the Palace, located on the riverfront at Sisowat Quay, a two minute walk from our hotel. A blue flag flies when the king is in residence (he wasn't). We passed an enjoyable afternoon wandering around the buildings within the palace walls: temples, ceremonial halls, ballrooms, etc.

In the evening after the heat of the sun has died down, the gardens in front of the palace are crowded with local families and groups of friends having picnics and drinking beers on the grass. The men stand in circles kicking a jaegi and children feed the pigeons with seeds bought from street vendors. It was a nice place for an evening stroll.

Outside the 'Victory Gate' at the Palace.

Within the Palace grounds.

One of my favourite experiences in Phnom Penh was Dine in the Dark. The concept of the restaurant is that you experience a meal as a blind person would; you're led into a pitch black restaurant where all the waiters are blind and you're served a mystery set meal which you eat in complete darkness. The food was amazing, even though we weren't entirely sure what we were eating, and having our sight removed was an unique experience that provided us with lots of nervous laughter. Once I felt comfortable at the table I had fun moving Ric's plate and wine glass about in the dark. After the meal we were led back into the light and we were shown photos of our food. The restaurant supports an organisation for the blind where they are trained to work as waiters, providing them with a vocation in a country that otherwise ignores disabled people, leaving them to beg on the streets.

The Central Market in Phnom Penh is one of the best we've visited so far; the building is big, light and airy and the vendors don't hassle you much at all. After kitting myself out with a new outfit we walked along Sisowat Quay and took in the sights: the red-tiled National Museum which we didn't fancy after our museum overload in Siem Reap, the Independence monument, the temples, the numerous fancy riverside hotels and restaurants. At the end of the quay we found ourselves at the very posh Himawari Hotel, and we decided to sneak in and see how the other half live. Inside we found a microbrewery! Sitting in the five star gardens overlooking the river we enjoyed a flowery pale ale called Gem and Jade, it was $5 for half a pint but it was worth it.

Gem stalls at Central Market.

Independence Monument, Phnom Penh.

Like a kid a Christmas.

National Museum.

The Horror of Cambodia's Tortured Past

I like to travel and learn about other countries, I'd heard of the Khmer Rouge and Pol Pot and I knew a bit about Cambodia's history when I arrived here; but it wasn't until visiting the Choeung Ek Killing Fields and Tuol Sleng S21 Genocide Museum that the true horror of Cambodia's past really kit home and broke my heart.

In England we don't learn about Asian history; we don't learn about the Asia-Pacific War, or Tiananmen Square, or the Khmer Rouge. Our education is almost solely based on European history, and gives a very one sided view of the world. For that reason, I highly recommend reading a brief history of Cambodia on the Choeung Ek Killing Field's Website.

Choeung Ek Killing Fields

We'd visited a 'killing field' in Siem Reap: a pagoda dedicated to the bodies found in the area and a stupa displaying the skulls and various remains discovered. With that in mind I wasn't prepared for the Choeung Ek Killing Fields 15km outside of Phnom Penh.

At the entrance we were given an audio guide that lead us around the site, most of the buildings were dismantled when the Khmer Rouge were overthrown, but the mass graves are still visible. The audio guide was thorough, detailed and emotional; it gave testimonies from Khmer Rouge soldiers who had murdered people at Choeung Ek, as well of the testimony of victims who had been beaten and raped, who had watched their families be murdered, and who had survived more horror than I could ever imagine.

129 mass graves were discovered at Choeung Ek. 86 have been exhumed, in which the remains of 8,985 people were found. The remaining graves have been left undisturbed. One grave contained women and children, and next to it stood 'the killing tree' against which the soldiers would swing babies by their legs, before throwing them into the soil besides their mothers. One of Pol Pot's motos was that 'in order to remove a tree you must kill all of its roots'; to this end entire families were murdered. Another grave was full of defectors, all decapitated. 

If you look at the earth beneath your feet at Choeung Ek you'll see rags emerging from the dirt, caught around plants and tangled around tree roots. These are the clothes of the people buried there. Each month the staff at the site collect bones which have surfaced as the heavy rains disturb the soil.

The pagoda in the center of the site holds the remains of the 8,985 bodies. As I walked around it I saw not the skulls but the faces of the men, women and children who were murdered there. By the time we entered the Choeung Ek museum I had tears rolling down my cheeks as I read about the victims and the perpetrators.

Tuol Sleng S21 Genocide Museum

Formally a high school in Phnom Penh, the Khmer Rouge converted Tuol Sleng into its most notorious prison. Intellectuals, city dwellers, teachers, foreigners, men, women, children, elderly people, were locked up, tortured and killed at the prison. 

When the prison was found by the invading Vietnam forces who had overthrown the Khmer Rouge, the bodies of the final 14 people to be killed at Tuol Sleng were still chained to wrought iron beds in the cells, the wounds from their torture still visible. Those 14 bodies are now buried in the grounds of the prison and photographs are displayed showing them in the state they were discovered.

Like the Nazis, the Khmer Rouge were meticulous in documenting their victims. As you walk through the prison the walls are lined with mugshots of the prisoners, as well as photographs of them being tortured, and gruesome images of them in death. Each inmate was forced to sign a false confession of the crimes they'd committed: spying for the CIA or the KGB, when in reality the only mistake those people had made was being educated, or being able to speak French, or wearing glasses, or simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The eyes of the people in the pictures conveyed their fear and misery and as I walked through each room their faces swirled before my eyes. 

Outside in the prison grounds sat an elderly man upwards of 70 years of age. He was one of only eight people to survive the prison and he sat there in the shade in front of tour group after tour group to tell his story, to share the horrors of his life so that tourists like me might learn something. I was blown away by his courage; spending his days at the very place where he was imprisoned and tortured. He wasn't angry at all, he didn't talk of revenge. He just wanted to share his story, to share his country's past, so that we might learn not to make the same mistakes again. I cried my eyes out.

Making The Same Mistakes... Again

The Vietnam invaded Cambodia in 1973 and overthrew the Khmer Rouge, who went into hiding in the jungle near the Thai boarder. At that time in history The West (the UK, the US and so on) was terrified of communism and America's defeat in Vietnam was still very fresh in everyone's mind. The same countries were also afraid of upsetting China, ally of the Khmer Rouge. For those reasons the UN continued to recognise the Khmer Rouge as the legitimate government of Cambodia for over a decade after they were exiled by the Vietnamese. No western country wanted to be seen supporting Vietnam, even when faced with the atrocities committed by the Khmer Rouge. For almost 15 years our ever-so democratic countries provided aid to the Khmer Rouge while the surviving population of Cambodia starved. It wasn't until 1994 that the Khmer Rouge were finally outlawed. To put that into context; it's like the UN recognising the Nazis as the legitimate government of Europe until the sixties. 

It wasn't until 2004 that a high court was established and the leaders of the Khmer Rouge were tried and prosecuted for genocide. Only one of the leaders sentenced by the high court expressed any remorse for the genocide. Pol Pot, the leader of the Khmer Rouge, died peacefully in his home before the court was established. He never faced up to what he had committed.

The important question is, have we - the world- learnt from these mistakes? Well, simply, NO, we have not. Today, as I write, concentration camps exist, men women and children are working in forced labour camps, genocide is being committed, and innocent people are being arrested, tortured and murdered. In North Korea for example, all of the above is happening. Right now. And the USA, England and the United Nations, are doing nothing for fear of upsetting China. Even the South Koreans are apathetic. 

As I walked around Choeung Ek and Tuol Sleng I couldn't hold back my tears because I'm sure that one day, in 30, 50, 100 years time, tourists like me will be walking around Camp 14 in North Korea, looking at the mass graves, and listening to an audio guide telling them how their countries knew what was happening. And did nothing.

Did 2 million Cambodians die in vain?

How Can You Help?

I feel unbearably tortured knowing that I'm helpless, I can't invade North Korea and take down Kim Jong-Un, I can't actually save the world. But at least I know the truth. Inform yourselves, read, share.

Books/films:

The Killing Fields

Year Zero The Silent Death of Cambodia

Escape From Camp 14 by Shin Dong-Hyuk

Aquariums of Pyonyang by Kang Chol-Hwan

Volunteering at Pagna Language School, Lvea Village

Background...

Pagna

Pagna was born in Lvea village and grew up in a poor rural family with 10 brothers and sisters. From an early age he worked hard to pay for his education and spent three years living as a Buddhist monk, during which time he learned basic English. Once married, Pagna moved to his wife's village, Kampong Phluk and was saddened upon seeing the young children fishing on the lake from dawn til dusk. Children in rural Cambodia rarely gain more than a primary school education as they have to fish and farm to support their families. Wanting to help the children to have a better life than himself, Pagna founded Pagna Language School, where he teaches free English classes to the local children.

Once word got around that Pagna was teaching English to the children in Kampong Phluk, the villagers from his home, Lvea, started asking him to teach English in their village too. With the help from his friends, Pagna raised enough money to build a school in Lvea; and one month after it's completion, the school received its first foreign volunteer teachers: Me and Ric!

The School...
A single layer of roughly cemented bricks, a chain-link fence and a corrugated steel roof make up the 5x10m classroom of the school in Lvea. The earth around the school in uneven and prone to flooding, there is no bathroom and no safe drinking water for the children to drink after they cycle to the school from their homes. Inside, the desks, donated by the local state school, are made from planks of wood and bamboo. The school is a work in progress; thanks to generous donations the roof was completed and a solar panel was installed whilst we were at the school. A well is being constructed and soon the children will have drinking water.

The school. The uneven land floods often.

Digging of the well started while we were at the school. With our donation Pagna will buy a water filter and the school will have safe drinking water.

The Children...
Every class at the school was full, often with three children squeezing in together on the narrow wooden planks that serve as chairs, writing with pea-sized pieces of chalk on ancient chalk boards. When we first arrived they stared at us, faces expressionless: for many it was the first time they'd seen a westerner, let alone be taught by one. As each day passed, however, they warmed to us and beamed at us with pure happiness in their smiles. The daytime classes were beginner level; learning the alphabet and simple phrases, the children were aged from around 5 to 14 years old. There was one evening class for older children and some adults, they were somewhat more advanced and once they overcame their shyness they really impressed us with their English. 

With one of the morning classes.

Learning the alphabet and some new vocabulary.

The Teaching...
Despite being thrown completely in the deep end from day one, and having to teach with neither a minute to prepare nor any books to work with, Ric and I rose to the challenge and threw ourselves into the teaching. It was the first time we've ever taught in tandem and I'm proud to say that we did a pretty damn good job; any couple ever in need of communication therapy should try teaching an improvised lesson together! For me it made me realise how much I enjoy and miss teaching; it brought back memories of Korea and has fueled my desire to teach again in the near future. After the first day it became clear that school is seriously lacking resources and inspiration; Pagna has never had any formal teacher training and is working without a salary. With this in mind, Ric and I set about designing something resembling a curriculum, we worked on vocab lists and lesson plans whenever we weren't teaching. By the end of our stay we handed Pagna a respectable amount of lesson plans which hopefully he will be confident enough to use in the future.

The Homestay...
Pagna had arranged for us to stay with a local family in the village, as there aren't any guest houses or hotels in the area. It turned out to be an incredible experience and one we'll cherish for a long time. We stayed with a local man named Wanah, a bachelor and an important figure in the community. Wanah is the director of the local state school, he also owns the village hall where local marriages take place, and which was to be our home for the week. While he slept on a platform behind the hall, Ric and I had the entire top floor of the hall-come-barn to ourselves. Wanah is possibly one of the nicest people I have ever met; even though he doesn't speak any English he managed to make us feel like part of his family; his nickname is 'Smile' and it's well deserved, his beaming grin could cheer me up even on the worst of days. It seemed that Wanah was a central point in the community; people would turn up to charge their phones (as he had electricty), people gathered to chatter on his platform home, the children would meet up and play in the garden, people came by to sell their wares; and of course, a fair few number of villagers came over to have a nosy at us! There were four boys living with Wanah, aged from 6 to 18. We found out that the boys were orphaned by parents either unable or unwilling to take care of them, and that Wahan had taken them in and was supporting them to get an education. His generosity and benevolence was inspiring. Wanah  was also an amazing cook! We went to the village expecting to eat a simple diet of rice and little else, and were blown away by the delicious stir-fries and flavoursome soups prepared for us three times a day. We both gained weight during our time in Lvea thanks to Wanah's huge portions of tasty food, and our inability to move very far in the stifling heat. 

Wanah and the boys.

Two of the boys having a sneaky peak at us through a trap door in the hall.

Where Wanah and the four boys slept and ate. Wanah is in the background cooking up a storm on the wood fire.

Village hall, wedding venue, home for visiting foreigners. On the right side of the house you can see the urns that collect rain water.

Our beds inside the hall.

Village Life...
Lvea village is truly a beautiful place; rice paddies as far a the eye can see, farmers ploughing their land with traditional ox-pulled ploughs, raised homes made from palm leaves and bamboo. The conditions in the village were very basic; there was no running water, only rain water collected in vast urns, and water from the well that had to be boiled before drinking. The toilet was a squatter with a bucket of water and our beds were reed mats on a wooden bed frame. There was electricity in the village but only in rudimentary form; a naked bulb hanging from a lone wire. That said, it really wasn't so bad, the biggest problem for me and Ric was the heat. With no air conditioning and no fan, we were constantly drained from the hot, stuffy atmosphere. After six days everyone in the village knew us, they'd stare, wave and say hello and they cycled past us. We only saw two cars during the six days we spent there. It does however, have its downside; we were awoken at 5am every morning by a chorus of cockerels, geese, pigs, cows and dogs! We'd stumble sleepily onto the veranda at 6am to find that the rest of the village had already been up for several hours; men were busy ploughing their fields, the children were already out herding the cows and the ever-wonderful Wanah had cooked breakfast for us and boiled water for us to drink. It amazed me how the children would be up working in the fields at the crack of dawn, go to school all day and then return to work again once school was finished. Then there was me, too hot to even go for an afternoon stroll without passing out and getting dehydrated, while children as young as 5 were out working and studying 12 hours a day. I felt shamefully lazy by comparison. Another thing I noticed was that young children were frequently left alone, sometimes in charge of even younger children. In the village it's quite normal for parents to leave young babies in the care of their 6 or 7 year old children for the day while they go out to work in the fields.

One of our students getting water from the well outside her house.

A typical house in Lvea village.

Land is intentionally flooded from the stream and the water used for irrigating crops.... and for boat races!

Local children come to say hello.

Returning from the fields at 5am.

Houses made from woven palm leaves.

Rush hour.

Our Donation...

Thanks to generous donations from our friends and family, at very short notice, Ric and I were able to raise $320 for the school. We spent $20 on paper, pencils, chalk and basic stationary provisions for the school, as well as a couple of soft balls that the children loved playing with. The remaining $300 will buy a water filter for the well and will pay for the uneven land to be filled in around the school, so the children and teachers will no longer have to wade through a moat to get to class! Thank you to all that donated.

If you would like to find out more about the school or make a donation please visit the website: 

http://pagnalanguageschool.org/ 

If you are interested in volunteering at the school please contact Pagna or Lisa:

pagna@pagnalanguageschool.org

lisa@pagnalanguageschool.org

+855077709192

Kampong Phluk Floating Village

Siem Reap is located on the north shore of Tonlé Sap lake, one of the biggest freshwater lakes in Asia. The lake is unusual because its size increases from 2,700 square km in the dry season, to over 16,000 square km during the rainy season (May-September). For most of the year the lake drains into the Mekong River in Phnom Penh, however when the rains come and the Mekong overflows, the tributaries change their direction of flow and the Mekong drains into the lake! Fun fact of the day.

Around the edge of the lake are many 'floating villages' that house fishermen and their families. Homes, schools and hospitals are built on bamboo stilts high enough to allow for the river to rise by up to 15m. 

As we were visiting at the start of the rainy season the stilts were still mostly visible and we were able to admire the intricate wood structures supporting the houses - made entirely from wood and rope. House boats, floating restaurants and fish farms lined the sides of the river and children splashed at the banks, jumping in off the sides of boats and watching us curiously. 

Kampong Phluk floating village.

Our tour took us along the river, past the floating village and flooded forest onto the vast expanse of Tonlé Sap where we saw local fishermen using ancient techniques. 

The area is very poor, most families support themselves by fishing. Children growing up in the villages around the lake rarely get more than a primary school education as from an early age they are expected and required to help with the fishing that supports the family. Everything, including our tour boat, was made from wood using ancient technology. The steering mechanism on the boat was two ropes attached to a steering wheel at the front and the rudder a the back.

During our time in Siem Reap we got to know a man named Pagna who has set up a school for the children living in Kampong Phluk. Over coffees Pagna told us about his own poor upbringing in a small village outside Siem Reap, how he lived and studied with a monk who taught him English, and that after his studies he was moved to start an English school so that the children could have better opportunities in life. It was a moving story. Find out about the school at http://pagnalanguageschool.org/

We booked our tour to Kampong Phluk through our Guest House, on a tour that supposedly donates part of the $18 fee back to the community to fund schools and hospitals.

Fishing on Tonlé Sap Lake.

Siem Reap

We spent nine days in Siem Reap, phenomenally long considering the town itself is nothing but a tourist hub for people visiting the temples, but we had a grand time!

We checked into a cheap little guest house on the edge of all the action. £3.60 a night got us a large double room, cheap polyester sheets and a bathroom smaller than most wardrobes. The owner was great fun though. (Boomerang Guest House)

When we weren't visiting the temples we spent our time around the pool of a nearby (classier) hotel, got $3 massages that included a free beer, walked up and down the river, shopped, and over indulged in some amazing food and drink. There are so many bars and restaurants in Siem Reap that we were completely spoiled for choice; from super cheap roadside restaurants to five star steak houses, there's everything you could ever wish to eat here. One evening we went to Temple Bar, slap bang in the middle of 'Pub Street', and sat down for a fancy meal and traditional Apsara dance show. The meal turned out to be quite shambolic; upon sitting at a table overlooking the busy street, we were lectured by one of the waiters on the political corruption in the Government, how Vietnam is taking over Cambodian businesses, and on his opinions of the neighboring countries. Finally, 20 minutes later, we were able to pick up the menu and order a bottle of wine - much anticipated after a whole month of drinking only beer! The wine (French Chardonnay) took another 30 minutes to arrive, and the food came on a banana leaf platter with no plates. Fortunately is was delicious and the Apsara dancing was very pleasant. Another one of our regular haunts was on the edge of the market, one of the cheapest and perhaps best places to eat in town. However, after eating there a few times we came to recognise the exhausted face of the one waiter, who served there from open to close (breakfast til late evening), and that of his young son who worked there instead or perhaps as well as going to school. 

The massage doubled as a Khmer lesson; we impressed and amused the masseurs with our rudimentary language skills.

Swimming pool at neighbouring Riverside Hotel.

Fancy, but where are the plates?

Apsara dancing at Temple Bar

When we weren't eating we did manage a few cultural museum and temple visits: The Angkor National Museum, for an extortionate $12 each, was rubbish. The artifacts that were spread across eight galleries could easily have fit into one. The written information was repeated over and over and the displays were much of the same in each gallery. I wouldn't recommend it to anyone unless you're seriously into archaeology and/or ancient history. The one thing I did take away from the museum visit was a better understanding of the religions in the region; how Cambodia was once an Hindu country and how that transformed into Buddhism, and in fact, Angkor Wat is a Hindu Temple. We took bikes out to the Land Mine Museum, which again was not worth the $5 entrance fee. In fact to call it a museum is to use a lot of poetic license. It comprised two sheds containing a handful of artillery: land mines, grenades, missiles, etc. The bonus was that $2 from the entrance fee is donated to the local childrens hospital, which we had to pass in order to get to the museum, and to the temples on the other days. The pavement on each side of the road outside the hospital are lined, day in day out, from dawn til dusk, with mothers shading small children from the heat of the sun. A sign above the entrance informs tourists of an outbreak of severe hemorrhagic dengue fever. It was sad and distressing to see, and although we were too wimpy to donate blood, at least some of our tourist money was going to the hospital.

Preah Prom temple in the city centre.

On one of our less energetic days I did a 'restorative' yoga class above a vegan cafe (Peace Cafe); it was in a traditional raised wooden building and the rain drumming on the tin roof above the dimly lit room was very atmospheric. I was so relaxed afterwards that I had to go for a massage! Peace cafe also advertises free Khmer classes on weekends, we showed up both days at the specified time but found no Khmer lesson. 

Tuk-tuk driver having a snooze in the afternoon heat.

Rainbow after a heavy rain shower.