Blog 1

Ahh, the bus man just took my passport... on the up side he added it to a pile of passports he seems to be collecting. He seems friendly enough so I'm going to assume the best for now.

This bus promises to take me from Phnom Penh, the vibrant and still semi-colonial capital of Cambodia, to Ho Chi Minh City in Vietnam. Ho Chi Minh city was once called Saigon (and still is by many of its inhabitants) but in the greatest finger up to their defeated foes, the invading North Vietnamese army renamed it in 1975. Good one.

This bus shall take six hours, plus one at the border to fill out many tiny forms declaring that I'm not up to anything fishy. Add this to yesterday's six hours from Siem Reap to the capital and Wednesday's eight hours from Bangkok to Siem Reap and I can tell you what a bus feels like.

Cambodia's troubled past is not reflected in its optimistic present. As fatty and Dayna attested, the Khmer people are almost to a person friendly and personable, keen to try English and always ready to lend a hand whilst laughing at a westerner. The food is great and everything is cheap. Dinner last night cost me $1 with a drink, so I tipped 25c and felt generous. Hey, a 25% tip is big, people!

I have found Cambodia to be very much like East Africa, without the scary undertone of potential violence. This is odd given yesterday I visited the site at which Pol Pot's security apparatus interrogated tens of thousands of Cambodian people before sending them to the killing fields. With such a history of violence I find it particularly impressive that the country seems so peaceful now. If they can keep this up, tourism is going to go mental.

After visiting the Angkor Wat temples on Thursday, on Friday I decided to catch a tuk-tuk to the landmine museum an hour out of town. It was concerning but unimpressive as a museum. USA, sign the freakin anti landmine treaty already! What was more impressive (and I often find this on my travels) was the handiwork of the tuk-tuk mechanic. A tuk-tuk is a little carriage towed along by a little motorbike. Feel the power of 125cc engines pulling carriages with four people in them. Cut a long story short, my tuk tuk blew a tyre on a long dusty countryside road. 'Poo' said my driver in Khmer. Apologetically he said we would have to limp the thing to a little shack inhabited by two mechanics. They managed to have the tyre off, puncture repaired and us back on the road in no time for less than 50c. We would have bought a new $10 tube. Maybe this is why the carbon footprint is low in these countries. Later in the day I managed to convince the driver to let me have a go... tuk-tuks are hard to drive.

Yesterday's bus movie was The Gods Must be Crazy 2... in Khmer! Haha, the British girl next to me loved my translation of the plot but the great thing about those movies is that the dialogue is somewhat secondary to the ridiculousness. I am now enjoying the wondrous spectacle of the Bond film Die Another Day dubbed into Khmer with Vietnamese subtitles.

This is a proud country and I pray that it continues along the path of wealth creation.

Fyf's random observations:

Cambodian law mandates that the rider of a motorcycle (90% of all vehicles) must wear a helmet. Anyone else on board does not have to wear one.

There are often 4-5 people not wearing helmets on a single motorcycle

There is something sad about seeing the remains of an 11^th century mega imperial capital surrounded by a modern country that is so weak.

Cars are a boring way to travel

$1 is a great price for dinner. $3 is still a great price for dinner but starts to look really expensive, how odd.

Cambodian ATMs dispense $US. Cambodian Riel are really only used for amounts under $US1. Come on guys, use your own money, there's nothing wrong with it!

Many professions here seem to involve regular hammock breaks. I think my Australian citizenship might need to be revoked.

That's all for now. Hoorah and keep the country nice for when I get back.