Leaving Laos - by kayak and on to Chiang Mai

In Laos you are not allowed to throw old Buddah's away - so here is their resting place. There's a huge cave full of them.



To get to the Thai border we had a choice of 11 hours on a bus or three days kayaking. This was yet another highlight of our trip


Yup, we came off in the end. It wasn't so bad, but I did bash my knee on the rocks. Mitch made sure he caught all the action.


At the end of day two we had to say goodbye to the kayaks and get on a boat for the last leg.


We’ve met some lovely people here. Ann, our 74 year old kick-arse companion who is travelling Asia on her own and a lovely Austrian couple called Oliver and Karin who shared our crazy border crossing with us. They are doing a similar route to us so we keep bumping into them in various places. There was also a really nice German girl called Katrina who shared our kayaking and biking trip with us, and last but by no means least Mitch and Evette. A hysterically funny pair from Seattle who have, frankly, renewed my faith in Americans. Having said that, of the, ridiculously few, Americans we have bumped into along the way all of them have been nice.

It’s really quite sad though, that some of the Americans we have met have felt the need to almost apologise in advance for being American and ‘joke’ about pretending they are Canadian. It’s not so surprising when you consider that these people are travelling around places like Cambodia and Vietnam and seeing the ongoing effects of what their country has done in the past. I was absolutely stunned and sickened to find out that the US backed Pol Pot! Why? Because the Vietnamese were against him and they hated the Vietnamese. But their reason for hating the Vietnamese was the ‘threat’ of communism wasn’t it? So what the fuck was Pol Pot then? A good, democratic leader? Not that we are any better. The Brits have done their fair share and more. Add to that that we have to tell people we are Christian when they ask and I’m surprised anybody even talks to us. I remain horrified at what the Europeans did to the South Americans in the name of Christianity.




Crossing the border from Laos back into Thailand. We had to get off the boat and walk whilst the guys grappled with this crossing.

Travelling back across the Thai border from Laos was a bit of a culture shock. Suddenly there was tarmac on the roads, Neon lights and hamburgers on the menu. We left Huai Xai for Chiang Mai pretty much immediately. Chiang Mai is so much nicer than Bangkok. It's a huge city but with all the hustle and bustle, but somehow more chilled. They have a night market to die for. Whereas Koh San was full of tacky bits and cheap fakes here we saw some of the most amazing art from sculptures to paintings. The silk on offer was ten times better than in Bangkok too. We took the moped about 50 km down the motorway to an elephant sanctuary. It was really worth the very scary ride down.


Tim befriends a baby elephant


Bathtime

We had a fantastic day just playing with the elephants. Tim and one baby elephant bonded so much I thought we were not going to be able to leave. She curled her little trunk around his shoulder and they were playing tug of war for hours. They had a hospital there which was really sad. One of the elephants had lost half his trunk when he’d caught a land mine.

I felt really sad to leave Chiang Mai. On our last night we bumped into Evette and Mitch who we thought we’d seen for the last time in Laos. We had a great night out with them and got severely slaughtered. Not good when your 10hr journey back to Bangkok starts at 7.30am the next day. Needless to say, it was a rotten journey.


The Opium Lady - Chiang Mai


An 11 year old girl in Chiang Mai trashes Tim at Connect 4 again and again and again much to the delight of the rest of us. Tim wasn't happy though - he played her again and again until he finally beat her. I am not having children with this man!!


Meanwhile, we got our hair done.


-----Original Message-----
From: danapalamara@tiscali.co.uk [mailto:danapalamara@tiscali.co.uk]
Sent: Friday, February 25, 2005 09:48:52 +0:07
Subject: Passage To India

Hello again.
Six months in, tours of S America, Polynesia, and SE Asia complete, only two months to go and I ...

Am very scruffy
Have REALLY bad hair
Have given up completely on deodorant and any form of make-up

Nice.

And as for the state of Tim....

We leave for India the day after tomorrow. The two and a half months we've spent here in SE Asia have been at once amazing, interesting, heart breaking.

We've been to villages that were so undeveloped the children were scared of our torches. We've seen some amazing scenery, beaches, people and had loads of fun, but also seen that there really are parts of the world where a child can die just because he has cut his finger. We've also seen the effects first hand of the Pol Pot regime and the Vietnam War. If anybody is considering
supporting a new charity, might I suggest they consider one of the landmine campaigns. Not a day went by in Cambodia where we didn't see at least ten victims. There are hardly any old people in the country ...they were all murdered 30 years ago.

On a lighter note we have awarded Laos the 'Transport 2005 Award'. They really have mastered the art of packing 30 people plus backpacks into a 12-seater truck plus 3 or 4 tiny Laos people in between. Just when you thought you were able to move one foot slightly to the left every now and again…..oh.. here comes not one, not two, but four more back packers, plus back packs.

And oh….what's that? Ah….a bag of rice, no three bags of rice. And here comes a beautiful old lady with a million wrinkles and no teeth. (I've never
seen so many OAP's on opium) What's she saying? Ah I see, you want me to put this bucket under the seat? Said bucket having no lid and being filled with freshly caught fish and river water. Said seat being mine and route being full of holes. I guess you'll understand why I gave up on the deodorant. London Transport, eat your heart out.

Many of you will be relieved, but most of you disappointed, to know that I did not kill or maim Tim. This is because a lovely little Thai man at the Sony Centre in Chiang Mai waved his magic fingers over my camera and managed to get it working again. I have a new found respect for Sony. I am not joking when I tell you that we poured at least half a pint of water out of that machine.

You always need a motive for murder. I'm sure Tim will give me at the very least one during the next few months in India, so don't worry. I'll maim him very soon.

Thai / SE Asian food is lovely, but if I see another bloody noodle or grain of ri..oh fuck..we're off to India. Slate me as much as you like, but I really want some toast with no sugar in the bread and salt in the butter.


Who knows what adventures India will bring. I'll be sure to update you.

Love and kisses to all,

Dana
xx

Laos, Feb 2005



We arrived at one village to find a pre- wedding party going down. A couple of swigs of Lao Lao for confidence and we all joined in.





The villagers got together with our guides and cooked us a great meal. I so wish there was less of a language barrier


Lunch by the river during our kayaking trip.Our guides told us the people in these villages were not used to tourists, but we didn't really believe them at first - it's used as a selling point to get people to come on the trips. These guys were initially staring at us as if we were aliens. It took no time at all to make friends though.


Ugly people simply do not exist in this country.

In the smaller villages they live with no electricity, no medication and no schooling. If they see a 'Falang' they think we are either a doctor or some type of alien. We’ve had people stare in absolute amazement – others have asked us to help them with cuts and grazes. We were told that the people in the eastern villages were unaccustomed to tourists. We had a really funny moment when we were sat on a riverbank having lunch during our kayak trip. We’ve been travelling with a fantastic couple from Seattle called Mitch and Yvette. Mitch is a 6ft plus, really well built, African American. His hair is braided into short plaits that stick out. The villagers just didn’t know what to make of him. They all crowded round, staring. I think it must have been the first time they’d seen a black guy. Suddenly Mitch jumped up and pretended to scare a bunch of the kids. It was hysterical, not just kids, but adults scarpered screaming! They were all laughing at the same time though and within minutes were back for more of him.

It was wonderful to stay in that village. We spent the day just playing with the kids and chatting to the villagers. There was a pre wedding party going on so we were all invited to swig loads of eye watering Lao Lao whisky and dance around with them in the village square.

Pigs, chickens, dogs, cats, water buffalo and cockerels roam about the village and the streets. Once food has been eaten, dishes washed and beds prepared there is little else to do but go to sleep. They have to go to bed early...they need to be up at dawn to start working again. I find myself often having to remind myself that it is 2005.

Part of me wishes that they were more developed, the other doesn't. Why should we be so arrogant as to want to will our lifestyle on these people? Everything is shared here and the people are always laughing and talking, not just with us but with each other. They are not hungry at all. Their lifestyles are however incredible humble. The kids have great childhoods, always playing in the river and running around and there is always a school or learning area of some sort. Their Dads are always around to play with them too. One particularly great game I’ve seen them play is digging themselves huge bowls into the sand on the banks of the river and just sitting in them laughing and talking, content to be in the cool. Every now and again, a huge mud fight will start. Not a care in the world. Nobody is going to hurt these kids or snatch them away. They couldn’t care less what they are wearing – most of them are just running round in pants. No nastiness because they haven’t got the latest Nike trainers.

We went on a biking and kayaking trip into the countryside east of Luang Prabang. On the last day we were asked to take our rubbish out of the kayak to the jeep that was waiting for us, but to leave our plastic water bottles in the boat. As Evette and I were walking back up the steep river bank towards the village about 20 kids thundered past us, running, as if for their lives, towards the water. They were after those bottles. The fishermen use them as reels and the women use them to collect the water they boil. For the first time I saw Laos children that were not smiling and not saying hello. Anyone would have thought there was a huge heap of gold or diamonds in that boat.



I'm certain that western luxuries would destroy the innocent joy of these places, but its unfair that the people are not inoculated against disease. They also do not all have access to clean water. Hospitals are far and few between – some of them are hundreds of km away. Bearing in mind that the village might only have one moped, and that's rare, you can see how children die from cuts and grazes. We all take it for granted that we get a tetanus jab. Not here. They practice spiritism and animism in many of the villages and use many medical treatments from the forest, but we spoke to the village chief of one place we stayed. He told us he had 9 children. Three of them were dead. Each time I enter one of those villages I picture Oxford Street, with all its traffic, drunks shouting, singing or fighting on the footpath, cyclists and drivers arguing, shops and pavements packed with so many bodies you have to walk on the road to get by. Such a different world, where ours is by no means the better one.

Laos - the most chilled place on Earth

The kids here are all so cute - in fact everyopne is - it's a nation of beautiful people


Monks receiving their daily alms


We went on a three day kayaking trip visiting villages in Laos along the way. This was daily lunch by the river.

24th Feb 05, Chiang Mai, Thailand

Back to what this journal is supposed to be for. We are six months into the trip. We leave for India the day after tomorrow. Since I last wrote we have covered Laos and some of northern Thailand. Meanwhile back home Rachel is slowly becoming famous. She’s appeared in Zoo Magazine looking really gorgeous and was partying with Bono the other week. Jim and Van are married. So is Katy K. And both Lynn and Shiff are talking rather too much about gardening for my peace of mind.

Laos was wonderful. I'll stick to the European spelling of the country although it should be spelt without the 's'. They have the best coffee, great croissants, the lushest mountain scenery, the worst roads and transport, the friendliest manner and they are all drop dead gorgeous. Regardless of whether they are two months old or a hundred and thirty two (as some of the old ladies seem to be). I've seen some of the most fantastic faces. Huge almond eyes with skin that is at once lush and smooth and covered in a million wrinkles. Toothless, black stubbed smiles that light up faces and beam friendliness. I wish I had more courage to ask to take photos. I’m even more reluctant to ask since I found out that some of the older people still believe that if you take their photo you steal their souls!

Laos is very much a land of opposites. Wooden shacks on stilts with thatched roofs sit in the shadows of huge French colonial style houses. In Viantiene and Luang Prabang locals sip their Lao coffee and eat croissants, the boom of Lao state radio feeding out propaganda in the distance. Nobody bares it any attention.

A few kilometers away in the hills and lush valleys of this beautiful land, locals sit in a circle on a dusty floor sharing sticky rice and Lao Lao whiskey. Ten year old girls with faces of angels but the expression of grandmothers tend to the children, wash, clean, fetch water and wood and help to prepare food. In the bigger villages they have schools and maybe even a hospital. The kids can all speak a little English and love to try to practice when they meet you.

Six months in and we've started to drive each other nuts

I wasn't going to include the following bit of my diary on this blog, but in the end it made me laugh so much reading it back I decided I had to. Its all part and parcel of travelling with someone else.

I've been trying to find a photo of either one of us looking miserable from around that time and there isn't a single one - so I chose this photo of a beautiful Buddha in Luang Prabang whose face I just could not stop staring at instead.





24th Feb 05, Chiang Mai, Thailand
I thought I had managed to get away from Tim for the evening by walking home without him, but he's back in my face after just ten minutes and he's driving me nuts. If he doesn't get off his fucking high horse I am going to knock him off.

This is not the first time that he has been totally pissed off because of my uncontrollable addiction to cigarettes. He also seems to think that it's more than a little upsetting that I use him as a punch-bag every time that I am tired, annoyed, thirsty or feeling in any way less than completely happy.

As you can see, not even my diary is sacred. I think it’s clear that I didn’t write that last paragraph. Small, incompetent, five year old child as I am, I had the Palm confiscated from me and additions added to my text. And he says I'm immature. Reading this you'll probably be thinking 'six months on the road, you just need a bit of space'. It's more than that. He could be reading a book four meters away from me, but still watching me out of the corner of his eye to check that I am not biting a nail or lighting up a cigarette or doing anything he deems not right.

It's like living with a nasty, bitter, old school teacher who despises his own faults so much that he attacks the moment he sees something similar in his pupil. He can get up in the middle of the night, unable to sleep and have a spliff. I can't. He can leave the light on to all hours. I can't. He can drop things, lose things, destroy equipment, get things wrong. I can't.

Today I insisted that we spend the day alone. I've been able to go where I want, spend as much time on the internet as I like, count out the money to pay for it myself (he doesn't trust me to do this) and I've also been able to actually finish my coffee before having to get up and leave. He's due back in half an hour. Time to take in as much oxygen as possible before my supply is cut off again.

Note: 17th May 2007
Oh dear! Its sounds awful doesn't it? The funniest thing is me writing at the time that it wasn't because we just needed a bit of space. He was being bloody annoying though.

What is it with the freak weather chasing us around the planet?

Here's our comfy little hut on stilts by the river at Van Vieng before it was virtually destroyed by hail stones the size of coffee saucers.


I wrote most of this little adventure in an email so I've copied and pasted it here.

From: danapalamara@tiscali.co.uk
Subject: An all round bad day
Send: Sun, 6 Feb 2005 13:32:53 +0700

Hello,

We are currently in Van Vieng in Northern Laos. We've been here a few weeks
now and we are about to make our way to the east of the country to see the
Plain of Jars (lots of huge jars in the countryside - nobody knows where
they come from). Before that we were in Cambodia, which was an amazing place.
But I'll update you on SE Asia when we are about to leave next month.

For now since most of you are living through the hell that is the UK in February
I thought I'd tell you a little story that will no doubt make you all giggle
a little and murmur under your breath that it serves me right for taking
an 8 month holiday...

Van Vieng. Fantastic riverside location surrounded by lush mountains with
loads of cool caves to explore. The cave we visited requires taking a rubber
ring and floating/paddling through. A great experience, apart from Tim insisting
that his Berghouse bag was totally waterproof and insisting on putting my
brand new 300 quid camera inside it. Need I say more?? The water literally
poured out of the bloody bag. Family and Tim's friends will be relieved to
know that I have not killed him. Not yet anyway.

Our day got worse. When we got out of the cave, dripping wet and minus a
camera it was raining. Raining?? It's dry season. What's going on?? The
two guys at the entrance to the cave just smiled and said 'yes, yes, rain
ha ha ha' Ok, I figure, they don't seem concerned, it must be ok then.

I love watching tropical rain. So I sat, still dripping wet, but by a little
fire that our lovely cave entrance man had made me so that I wouldn't catch
'ashoo ashoo' as he put it. It was fierce, but eventually we took advantage
of a break in it to ride the 10 miles back to the town.

Just as we were coming back into town it started again. Only this time it
wasn't just rain. 'Is that hail Tim?'. He couldn't hear me. He was revving
the 'f***' out of that poor little moped desperately trying to get us back.
He dropped me off at our bungalows and went to take the bike back.

The bungalow was fine. A little damp around the edges, but these bamboo huts
and thatch roofs have always amazed me at how much they stay dry. Then I
realised that the matteress was damp....no actually it wasn't damp it was sopping
wet in the middle. 'Shit! better move my stuff out of the way, this feels like it might blow through the walls.'

When the first bungalow collapsed, I decided it was best to pack our kit
and get the hell out of there. Tim arrived looking like he'd just taken
a shower. Huge pieces of ice started flying into the room from underneath
the gap in the door and the roof started rattling and seriously looking like
it was going to give. Have any of you seen 'The Day After Tomorrow?' Remember
the scene where it starts hailing in India? No exaggeration, the 'hail' wasn't
even stone shaped...it was just massive lumps. This was even scarier than
when Ivan hit us...at least we knew what that was and were expecting it.

Outside a couple of trees had fallen down and the bathroom area was totally
flooded. The water was flowing like a fast river. Meanwhile I grabbed my
raincoat (thank God for Gortex...I love you Gortex), and shoved as many electrical
items into the pockets as I could. Now anyone who knows Tim will know that
that's a lot of gadgets.

The owners were urging us to get out of the bungalow so we grabbed our passports and ran for it. Then it stopped. Just stopped. 20 minutes of devastation. All the electric had gone out. A whole house in town had collapsed and the lovely Irish couple that were staying in aforesaid unfortunate bungalow were looking rather stunned. As were the owners.

It looked like the 3 piggies house once it had been blown down. The rain had washed away the earth that was keeping the legs in the ground and the whole thing had fallen in on itself. The Irish couple's stuff was buried underneath the debris. Thank God, they were not in there at the time.

Since the camera had already had a bath earlier we couldn't take a photo of it.

’Are you going to leave?’ One of the owners asked me. ‘Er..yes, I'm afraid so’. Is
the guy mad? The veranda of our bungalow and bathroom was destroyed and everything inside was sopping wet. We felt sorry for them, but we couldn't stay.

We found shelter in a hotel in town (nice, large, stone structure), with
a dry bed and a big table which we covered with about two million electronic
components, bits of phone, speaker etc in the hope they would dry out. The
storms started again and lasted into the night. Today, apart from Tim being
put on 'look after our entire kit while it dries in the sun' duty it seems
like nothing ever happened.

Strangely enough, I'm starting to get a little homesick.

Happy February.

Dana
xx

Scream if you want to go faster! Crossing the Cambodia / Lao border

Oh look! A nice bridge. Just a taster of things to come....


The boat to Stung Treng


The speed boat. Complete with on-board dinner of flies, mozzies and whatever the huge things were that really stung when they hit you. The motor was so loud I thought my ears were going to explode. Our 70 plus year old friend didn't seem half as scared as I was.


I kind of accepted that we'd lose the luggage at some point.



The obstacle course - dodging plants, tree branches and humans




We've been in Laos about a week now. We crossed the Cambodian border at Voen Kham in southern Laos. The border crossing has to be one of the most memorable ever. It’s described in the lonely Planet as a ‘semi-official’ land border, so we had an idea that things might get interesting.

We’d spent the night in the most fabulous hotel in Kratie overlooking the Mekong. It was spotlessly clean with marble floors, a huge terrace and private bath with hot water - all for the princely sum of $5 between us! Having organised our trip at the hotel we boarded a boat for a four hour trip up the Mekong.

The first boat is supposed to leave at noon. Its said that boats are not allowed to leave earlier because, apparently, that would take away any need to stay overnight at the first stop - Strung Treng. The chap at our hotel warned us and told us to insist that our tickets covered the cost of continuing the 1 1/2 hr trip to the border at Voeung Kam that day. I think the idea is that they get people there so late they have to stay overnight and then pay again for the 2nd part of the trip. We were told we’d just have to cover the 'police' overtime on both the Cambodian and Laos borders.



We arrived at Strung Treng nearly an hour late where we were rushed onto a speedboat ( = tiny wooden fishing boat with a motor on the back). Nobody tried to tell us we couldn’t go any further which makes me wonder whether any of the overnight stuff was true at all. A James Bond style 50 mile an hour race down the Mekong later and we arrived at the border, totally deaf, faces covered in bugs and half terrorized.

Tim pointed out that in NZ we actually paid 80 dollars for a similar experience with the jet boating trip. This was pretty similar only far more scary and, at the much discounted price of five dollars, I suppose was much better value. There are boulders and tree trunks sticking out of the water all over that area of the river. All the boat had to do was hit one and we would have all been thrown overboard.

The border closes at 5pm. We reached it at ten to six – just in time to pay the ‘overtime’ fee.
Immigration was a tiny wooden shack with a zillion mozzies that attacked in clouds the moment you walked into the place. Immigration for Laos was on the opposite side of the river. The Cambodians at least tried to make it look slightly official. On the Lao side teenagers in ragged clothes charged us a dollar for our entry stamp and a dollar overtime. They earned their cash just by sticking out 10 million mozzies flying in faces for an extra 50 mins.

All good so far, but then we started to have the piss taken out of us.

There was only one tuk tuk available. The driver was demanding that six of us pay 5 dollars US each to go three miles down the road. It was dark and totally deserted – we had very little choice. Everyone was really pissed. Bare in mind we’d left a fabulous hotel that day for which we’d paid 2.50 US each! Here was this guy taking 30 for a short tuk tuk ride. Brixton mini cab drivers eat your hearts out.

It got worse. We arrived at the beach to get the boat to take us to Don Det. The Lonely Planet said the price was 50 cents per person. Surprise, surprise there was only one boat driver available who charged six of us two dollars each to go 10 mins to Don Det - one of approx 4000 tiny islands that rise from the Mekong in dry season.

I'm sorry if I sound as if I am labouring a point. The border crossings made me laugh. Basically it’s not even an official border. We wanted to cross it so we had to pay. Fine. The Cambodia/Laos border trip is notorious. The guy at our lovely hotel in Cratie promised us that no matter what he’d get us there – and he did. Some people don’t actually make it that far without having to stay on in Cambodia an extra couple of nights. Our guy had also warned us of all the extras we’d have to pay, so we were totally prepared, and no-one tried to get any more money out of us other than what we’d already been warned about. So on that front we did well – you just have to smile and accept how shockingly corrupt it is.

What really does annoy me though are the ridiculously inflated transport costs. It's only a few dollars you might be thinking. But when it is constant, every day, ten times a day, it starts to get to you. You just feel like a complete mug – paying 4 times more for a 3m tuk tuk ride than you pay for a night in a really lovely hotel. It’s fucking crazy.

I am not complaining about the tourist price. Most of these guys could never afford a passport, never mind a trip out of their country. A lot of backpackers get arsy about the two tier pricing system. I'm not fussed at all. In fact I agree with it. Why should the locals pay the same as us when they can’t even hope to earn the same money in 10 years that we are spending on this trip.

What I don't like is the sudden quadrupling, or more, of the tourist price. Especially when we are seriously worried that we might have to go home early because we are running out of cash. South America is supposed to be the corrupt place. I'm sorry but, so far it's got nothing on Asia. Bus prices and hotel rooms double overnight. Restaurant bills arrive with prices double than those on the menu. Every time we question it we get the same answer. "My boss put the prices up but I haven't had time to change the menu'. It's really starting to piss me off.

I never knew the death of a small creature could give me so much pleasure

The Mekong. Lush river, loads of green, more mozzies than the f***ing Amazon!

2nd Feb 2005, Vientiane, Laos.

Sitting in a hotel room in the Laos capital watching Rats....that’s the film by the way. A really fat animal lover is currently being devoured by hundreds of them. It's a shit movie but Star Movies is way better than anything we get free on cable.

I am deliriously happy because I have finally bought a mozzie killer tennis racquet. We first saw them in Cambodia but couldn't find one to buy. Tim was trying to haggle the price down. It was never going to happen. The woman in the shop could see I couldn't wait to get my hands on it. I would have paid 20 dollars for it if I had to. In the end we paid three and a half - every cent well spent in my book.

The only annoying thing is that you have to charge it for 10 hours before you use it. Damn! I was so looking forward to getting it into action straight away. I never knew that I could derive so much pleasure from killing something. I don't like spiders, I despise cockroaches, but I would never kill them. Mozzies on the other hand...I'm smiling just at the thought of tomorrow night! Just you wait you little fuckers.

We've found Paradise again- Bamboo Island, Cambodia

Simply Cambodia. One of my favourite pictures of the trip so far. We could have stayed on Bamboo Island forever.



Snooze time




The western side of the island


The eastern side


Bex, Richard and another chap who decided to come fishing with us.


Sunset on the western beach


The local kids

We’d teamed up with a couple called Bex and Richard who we’d met on the bus from Thailand to Siem Reap. They’d heard about a deserted island off the coast that you could visit, so we checked it out. There seems to be numerous names for it, but the boat man who took us there called it Bamboo Island, so I’ll stick with that. The boat trip over was madness. We’d got used to some pretty rough travelling in Cambodia, but this was crazy. We’d been waiting for the boat on the beach for an hour when I finally managed to convince the ‘organiser’ to tell me which boat was ours. He pointed at least ½ km out to sea. With the waves crashing in as they were it didn’t take an expert to work out that there was no way that boat was coming in any closer.

We had ALL our kit with us, rucksacks, passports, money the lot. One by one we had to make our way to the boat. Tim was in up to his chest. I was in over my shoulders, with my back pack held as high as possible, waves crashing into my face and a spindly little boy on the boat desperately trying to reach down to grab my bag from me. How the hell our kit remained dry I will never know.

It was worth it though. We reached the island to find exactly what we had been promised: nine tiny bamboo huts fringing the eastern side of the beach with one bamboo hut that formed a café area. One toilet, no showers and that’s it. The whole of the rest of the island was deserted except for a small military base in the jungle in the centre of the island. Only three of the nine huts were occupied and two of those were by us. Welcome, once again, to Paradise.

You had to walk through the jungle for 10 minutes to get to the western side. The one family that lived on the island who ran the café had scratched out a ‘path’ leading the way and assured us there were no snakes or dangers of any kind. Half way through we came to a clearing and found ourselves staring at two HUGE guns. I’m not quite sure whether ‘guns’ is the correct word to use here. Think old style 30 foot long barrels that you would expect to put a cannon into. It freaked me a bit at first until I saw the two soldiers that were ‘guarding’ them – asleep in hammocks. We tiptoed past them and walked through to the western beach.

WOW!!

The sun had just started to set over the water. It was really calm on this side and lapped up to a golden beach which was about 50 feet wide and completely empty. Not a sun lounger, umbrella or even another human being in sight. Our only company was lots of ants. And even they disappeared once you moved closer to the water’s edge. Bliss.

As the sun started to fade away we made our way back to our huts. Once again passing through the military base I spotted a soldier coming towards us. My heart started beating faster as he got closer, why I’ll never know. He met us with one of those massive, gorgeous grins that every single Cambodian seems to have. He spoke no English but he was trying to get us to try some fruit and pointing up at the tree where he’d obviously taken it from. I could not make out what he was calling it, but it was chewy and tasted a little like banana. So much for scary soldiers.

We stayed six days in the end. During the day some of the Sihanoukville hotel owners were organising boat trips to the island, but after 3pm we were always the only ones left. There was precious little to do of course but I think Bex and Richard are now Peaknuckle champions, soon to be ousted by the Bamboo Island kids.

On to Sihanoukville, Cambodia

Happier times on our little deserted island beach. We taught the kids how to play peaknuckle


It’s been odd visiting Cambodia. In just a few weeks we’ve gone from visiting one of the former greatest civilizations on Earth to the most shameful place on the planet and now I find myself looking at the horrific results of a poor country’s attempt to cash in on tourism all in an area of land less than half the size of Germany. Sihanoukville is on the south west coast of the country and looks out onto the Gulf of Thailand. It’s been known as a beach resort since the 50’s, so I wasn’t expecting a deserted Paradise, but arriving in town I was shocked to find that a taxi to Serendipity beach – just 3km away - was going to cost us $20 US. When we told the drivers we’d walk, we were approached further down the road by one who took us for $8.

On arrival we found café after café after café – all the way down the beach. The beach itself was lovely. Quite wide, golden yellow sand and waves that could be played in but not so big as to scare me away from going swimming. (I’m a bit of a wimp when it comes to big waves). The problem was you had to strain to see it. Almost every inch of sand was covered by deck chairs and sun loungers. I was so disappointed – and also saddened – because there were barely any tourists there. I can only assume there had been a bit of a boom when Cambodia was really trendy 8 years ago and now the sun-loungers en masse had scared all the back packers away. There certainly was no sign of any of the package tourists that flocked Angkor Wat.

Wherever we went we were approached by really cute kids who begged you to buy their fruit. At $2.50 a bag it wasn’t something we could oblige them with too often. They’d beg you to promise them that you’d buy some the next day. One child started crying and shouting at me because I bought some fruit from another girl. He said I’d purposely not bought it from him because he was a boy! I didn’t know what to say to him. In Thailand that same bag of fruit costs 10 Bhat – about 20 US Cents. It was a horrible moment, you know that you are being completely taken for a ride with the prices – $2.50 is about 100 times more than the correct price, so you don’t want to let them get away with it, but here was this kid crying on me. Since I already had a bag of fruit in my hand which I had bought really reluctantly anyway, I told him to come to find me the next day.

I feel it’s totally wrong to be worrying about paying $2.50 for something I don’t need or want and I hate the guilty feelings I keep getting time and time again. These kids see us as millionaires – which compared to them we are. But at the moment our money is running out so fast that I’m really worried we are going to have to cut the trip short and won’t get to see India at all. I keep trying to remind myself of that and tell myself to toughen up a bit with the kids, but then I can’t help the little voice that keeps saying ‘oh poor darling, you’ve been half way around the planet having an absolute ball spending cash that most people here could only dream of and now you don’t want to give this kid $3 because you might have to cut your holiday short.’ I told that kid what time we were leaving the next day and told him to make sure he was there so I could buy some damn fruit from him. I wanted to try to teach him that he wasn’t going to make a good businessman by having tantrums on his customers. I even waited around. He never came.

Everyone walking around the place, male and female, was deathly silent and choking back tears. All the people photographed were murdered.

S21 Museum, Phnom Penh, Cambodia
The school was taken over and used as a holding centre for prisoners before they were sent for execution at the killing fields.













Killing Fields, Phnom Penh,Cambodia












The S21 prison is one of the saddest places I have ever been to in my entire life. It has been left as it was found. A school turned into a warren of torture chambers. Iron bars and chains still hang on steel beds. The tiny single prisons that were made out of the classrooms are still there. Those on the first floor had brick walls and were about 2x2 meters. Each one enjoyed about a quarter of a barred window on the back wall. The cells on the second floor were wooden, half the size with no windows at all. All of the cells had huge bolts on the floor to which was attached a big chain. Horrible.

Worse still was block B. The animals decided that they would not only meticulously document and photograph every prisoner, but they would photograph the 'questioning' as well. The whole block is full of black and white photos - mainly mug shots of terrified, bewildered or furious men, women and children. Others are of them being tortured. There are hundreds of them, all with expressions of either pleading sadness, sheer terror or bewilderment in their eyes. They all have the same haircut and a prison number.

Everyone walking around the place, male and female, was deathly silent and choking back tears. I want to say this could never happen again, but I know I'd be wrong.

Where are all the old people? Phnom Penh, Cambodia

Apparently these little fellas became popular during the Pol Pot regime when many people were starving. They decided they liked them and they are still a delicacy.


I didn't dare! I've tried some strange foods on this trip so far, but my revulsion was so acute I couldn't even get close enough to take a proper look.










19th January 2005
Phnom Penh is the most chilled capital city on Earth. I found it strange that it has that vibe about it at first, because of all that this city has endured, but then maybe that’s why. We found a lovely little guest house called ‘TAT’. The lounge area has a row of hammocks in front of a huge TV which shows loads of really good films. There are five dollar bags of ‘happy’ on the menu. You can also get happy pancakes, happy milkshake, happy green curry, basically happy anything. Tim was overjoyed. He had a three course Happy Meal… of course. I just had a quarter of his pancake and was buzzing for hours! It's the kind of place where you could just stick around doing nothing at all for months, (especially if you order too much from the happy menu). The owners are lovely and they have a three month old pure white puppy called ‘White’ who I have fallen in love with.

I was a bit doubtful about going to the Killing fields and the S 21 Museum at first, but I'm glad we went. I was really surprised to find the vibe at the Killing Fields to be really peaceful - the same as any other cemetery. Only this one housed so many tortured souls. I figured that at least here, despite how brutally they were murdered, they finally found peace. Our guide was 14 when the Khmer Rouge took over. He was bitter and still had tears in his eyes when he pointed out the now empty graves. Imagine how many times a day, every day he tells the same story and it still makes him cry.

What happened to these people was horrendous, unthinkable. And it was only 30 years ago. It happened to the Jews in WW2 and I guess then everyone said they would never allow such an atrocity to happen again. Bollocks! It's happening now in Somalia. It happened in Croatia. The weirdest thing about this is that they were doing it to their own people, same creed, same country.

Walking around you hardly ever see any old people in Cambodia. Most of them were murdered. Tim’s mum mentioned to her Cambodian friends in France that we were here. They said they had no family left to put us in touch with because they had all been wiped out. It’s horrendous.

With those older people you do see you can't help but wonder which side they were on. To be honest, I don't think it really mattered. Most of the adults in the Khmer Rouge knew full well that they had no choice. That’s why those animal ‘leaders’ turned their children into monsters. “Year Zero”, they called it. Poison the minds that are not old enough to have an opinion or understand and then train them to kill without mercy. Sound familiar?