You look beautiful in white (Siem Reap, Cambodia)

For the sake of simplicity, dear reader, I have decided to combine the next three days. Also because nothing really happened. The attraction of Siem Reap is the temple district. As you would be aware, we had visited three of the temples and didn't feel the need to visit any others. It's a bit like cathedrals in Europe; one can only visit so many before peak cathedral is achieved. It became evident that after 3 temples, we were up to pussy's bow and Ta Promh would be our last.

Thursday

The trickle of departures continued until there was only one couple left, besides us. For whatever reason, we had not spoken with them, so I am unsure as to when they joined the tour. All that meant was, we were on our own. Excellent. No alarm clocks. No FOMO. No organised tours. We were at leisure. Decisions needed to be made.

We turned up for a leisurely breakfast around 9am. The discovery of the 'double espresso' a while back had proven to be a boon. A minimum of two is required to kick-start the day. Along with the obligatory French pastries and fresh fruit.

The lake at the hotel.

Over breakfast, we discussed visiting the Angkor National Museum, a short stroll from the hotel. However, we did not believe the museum would have much more to offer than the actual temple sites. Perhaps with 3D models being the exception. That was something we could see on the internet so the museum was ruled out.

The old markets sheltering from the sun.

Today's excursion would be to the old market. We organised a tuk tuk. He dropped us at the markets for $2USD and offered to wait. An offer we should have accepted. Instead, we negotiated a time for him to come back to meet us.

For that special room.

It is, reputedly, not as good as the night market, but we'll never know. Certainly, it didn't measure up to the market we visited in Phnom Penh. The layout was as challenging as a Sydney cycleway. One avenue looked promising and then abruptly ended at the rear of another stall or was simply blocked. An ordered, sequential attack proved to be impossible, so I went random, which seemed to reflect the markets themselves. There were the usual souvenir style things on offer, shirts, scarves, silk products, carvings, cigarettes - by the carton. Each stall appeared to sell the same goods.

Luckily this stall faced the open street. Very aromatic.

Then we wandered into the produce section. Not just fruit and veg but also meat and fish. In the open. Unrefrigerated. Butchered before your eyes. Well, the fish at least and larger cuts of meat were cut as ordered. Not since I visited the offal room at an abattoir, had I felt such a need to breathe through my mouth; being careful not to ingest the flies that were attracted by the smell.

Don't breathe too deeply.

Looks hygienic enough.

Out into the sun, fresh air and humidity. We wandered Pub Street and Cheers Street and soon realised we had exhausted the old market precinct and we still had a lot of time to kill. In this heat, there was only one option, dear reader. Beer. We found a comfortable seat in the shade at one of the bars and had a couple of draught beers to while away the time. Four beers, about middy size, $3USD

Real Ray Bans, not fake.

As we were watching the very limited passing parade, I was approached by a man selling "genuine" Ray Bans. They were retailing in shops for $45USD. Yeah right. But for me $35. My disinterest brought about an immediate discount. $25. How about $10 I enquired? Eventually he settled for $12, without the 'authentic' Ray Bans case.

I wonder what's in this street?

Back to Mr Narin, our tuk tuk driver, and back to the hotel. We had intended to dine at Mahob, a local Khmer restaurant recommended by our guide, but as we were about to leave to check out the restaurant, it started to rain lightly. We decided not to risk it and, back in our room, the light, unforecast rain turned into a tropical thunderstorm. Good decision to abort the exploration. We dined at the hotel instead.

A beer lost in translation. It has the great taste of ...

Australia was playing South Africa in the World Cup semi-final that night. Despite having about 10 sports channels, not one broadcast the game. We were forced to stay up to date online through an app.

Friday

There was no alarm to wake us and we were pleased to see Australia had won their World Cup semi-final. Breakfast was not only leisurely this morning, it was unnervingly quiet. There were very few people around. Excellent.

The Chef's Walk near the breakfast terrace.

Today would be a first for me. We have stayed at many 'resorts' over the years, but they have always been a base for exploring the local area. Consequently, we have never done the poolside thing. In fact, I have always found such behaviour questionable. Now we were joining the common people, gathering our things and heading for the pool.

It is a very large pool. It has 2 spa areas, a children's pool (sadly), a swim-up bar area and an island. The pool is surrounded by lounges and umbrellas and plenty of shade. Predictably, we chose the less populated side and enjoyed the relative quiet. For a while. A number of people arrived on the other side of the pool, some 25 or 30 metres away. As expected, they began talking to each other. I was tempted to join in the conversation because I could hear every word, as if they were next to me. Nationality? Oh come on, dear reader, you know the rule, choose the nationality of your prejudice.

Thankfully, they didn't stay the distance and we were once again left in peace. Time for a refreshing G&T, at the pool bar, in the water. Another first. We swam up to the bar and ordered. Such a refreshing drink.

We dried off quickly as the sun ate into our shade. Time to decamp and shower to rid ourselves of the chlorine smell.

Dinner was at the highly recommended Mahob, which means 'food' in Khmer. Although they do the hot stone cooking, we decided to stay with their traditional menu. Arriving around 5pm was a good idea because the mosquitos were still hiding in the shrubbery and the restaurant was devoid of diners. We had deep fried spring rolls, chicken satay skewers, morning glory in garlic and chilli, prawn fried rice and tamarind fish, accompanied by a French grenache/syrah. All for $57USD. The food was fresh and flavourful. If we were staying longer, we would have probably returned to try the stone cooking option.

A question, dear reader. How do you know when you've stayed too long in a restaurant? Answer: when you've heard the playlist more than once. Yes, we did. And a pretty average playlist it was, which inspired today's title. You look beautiful in white by Shane Filan from 2017. I'd never heard it before and would be happy never to hear it again. If I was a betting man, and I am, I would wager it has been played at wedding receptions the world over. Lionel Richie's Stuck on you was another featured favourite.

Saturday

And so dawned our last full day in Siem Reap. The established pattern was followed. As with yesterday, the change in weather meant slightly cooler temperatures and lower humidity, so we breakfasted on the terrace. Overnight there had been an influx of tourists and the restaurant and terrace were far more crowded. There was a table of four, near to us, who spoke so loudly that I now know the entire personal history of one woman. Her divorce, what it cost, how they found their new home, the fact that her granddaughter lived with her for 5 years and how her son needs to learn how to manage his money, after two years of her picking up the tab for his overspending. And no, I wasn't eavesdropping. She had no volume filter and just wouldn't shut up.

Huge lilies.

Finally they left. Yay. I finished my second coffee and we went to change and head back to the pool area. Once Jayne was settled, I grabbed my camera and went in search of local wildlife. The hotel is also a self-proclaimed bird sanctuary and there are photographs of birds sighted in the grounds. Probably I should have risen earlier if I wanted to photograph the birds. Still, I managed to capture a few.

Flower on a ginger plant.

Being more aware of the sun today, we selected chairs that would stay shaded longer. Happily they were also on the opposite side of the pool from the growing crowd. We followed the usual pattern, blogging, resting, swimming, drinking a G&T and finally, disappearing to our room to remove the chlorine from our skin.

A Sunda yellow-vented bulbul.

So, I wasn't going to document this, but, whatever. Today by the pool I sneezed. I know. Exciting right? And in doing so, put my back into spasm. Oh yeah. Not a major spasm, I've had significantly worse, but enough to cause inconvenience and restrict my ability to move freely. I now move like so many other of the geriatrics here. Jayne has a theory that I do this deliberately, immediately before we fly. She must keep a tally sheet. Apparently I did it before this trip, before the Perth-Broome-Darwin expedition and prior to flying to NZ in February. I don't keep track; no-one wants to remember pain.

A zebra dove, just like home.

Dinner will be a local affair. I have exhausted my US currency, have no more cash to convert and I don't really want to withdraw more because it is doubtful we will find a use for US currency in the near future. 

A lizard friend from the pool deck.

To mark our final night in Cambodia and over three weeks of eating delicious Asian food, we made the move back to the Western Menu. Pizza for me and a cheeseburger, fries and salad for Jayne. Salad, as a side with a cheeseburger. Weird. I continued my quest to eat a pizza in every country I have visited. This one was more than acceptable - parma ham and rocket on a thin base.

Tomorrow the alarm is set for 5:30am for the early trip  to the airport. There will be one final post, if for no other reason than I haven't published many pictures of flowers. Hopefully the Singapore Air experience on the way home will be as faultless as it was getting here.

Until next time.

Buddha Baby (Phnom Penh, Ko Chen, Oudoung, Cambodia)

On Thursday morning, we arrived in Phnom Penh but there would be no tourism, dear reader, until the authorities had face-checked our passports. Following breakfast, we adjourned to the lounge for our face inspection. What I thought would be a fairly time-consuming process turned out to be brief and efficient. We presented our passports, with Cambodian visas, to the official, he looked at the passport picture and compared it to our facial reality. A smile. A nod. We were done.

On reflection it may not have have been a smile, but a smirk. Imagine having the job of checking everyone's unsmiling likeness on their passport. Could you do it without smirking?

A weather report is unnecessary, but for the sake of repetition: hot and humid. The temperature is above 30° and the humidity is higher than 70%. Soupy, we would say at home.

There was the usual shock as we walked from our air-conditioned world to reality. It was short lived because it was straight onto the bus which dropped us at the street entrance to Koh Chen, the silversmith village. Our endpoint was supposed to be over 1km through the village; it didn’t seem that far and the pace was leisurely.

A stupa in Koh Chen.

We ran the gauntlet of the pedlars, waiting for us to disembark the bus. We were warned not to speak to them at all. Engaging in conversation is tantamount to an agreement to buy from them. Despite being ignored by everyone, they were persistent and refused to go away, just like Scott Morrison and Tony Abbott.

A silversmith at work.

This particular village of silversmiths is 200 strong but they are all that is left of this trade community, after Pol Pot. They made the decision to stay together and to continue the traditional methods of silver work. They also work with copper, brass and silverplate. We went into one workshop and were able to see the smiths at work. The female proprietor showed us how to tell the difference between genuine silver and silver plate. It’s easy if you carry polish with you. The silverplate rubs off.

A giant brass pot.

After a futile attempt to purchase Jayne a silver turtle for her Pandora and finding nothing else to spend my money on, we walked across the road to get into our tuk tuk that transported us back to the bus. It was a much more comfortable ride than the cyclo, physically and emotionally. I wasn’t concerned for our driver because he had a motorised vehicle.

The line of tuk tuks.

Next stop was Oudong, the former capital of Cambodia and the site of the largest Buddhist temple in the country. En route we had some of the vagaries of Buddhism explained to us. This site, aside from having the temple with its monks, also had accommodation for priests and nuns. The nuns and priests are below the monks in the pecking order and do not have to commit to as high a level of devotion, in terms of following the precepts of the Buddha. It's pretty full-on, Google it dear reader. It was too strict for me, no alcohol, no sex, no bad language. WTF? The nuns and priests dress in white and they reside in accommodation on the grounds, having their meals provided by donation from the surrounding community.

The temple.

Our guide termed this arrangement to be akin to aged care or retirement living in developed countries. For example, a woman who cannot provide for herself, or needs respite from the demands of the world, or who has health issues, mental or physical, can expect to be welcomed into this haven for a short period of time or for life, whatever meets her need. It comes at a price though, austere life, shaved head - good times in your later years.

There are levels of accommodation ranging from pretty basic one room huts up to substantial buildings that have been constructed by women’s families.

Basic accommodation.

Not so basic accommodation.

The temple precinct is quite expansive and some of the garden areas are beautiful and tranquil, designed for people to be still and meditate. The one drawback was the stray cats and dogs that were everywhere. The Buddhist belief in reincarnation makes it problematic to remove them.

The view over part of the gardens.

The monks are forbidden to eat after 12pm and we were scheduled for a blessing just prior to this. A blessing can take up to 90 minutes, we had the discount version. It was supposed to be 15 minutes, but was even briefer so the monks could have lunch. I hope our souls are OK.

Murals on the walls and ceilings.

The temple itself is massive and as imposing as any Christian cathedral or Jewish synagogue, but without the same excess. There wasn’t the same level of opulence, for instance, the gold wasn’t real. The space inside was vacant except for a giant statue of Buddha, the Siddhartha Buddha, not the fat, laughing one. The walls and ceilings were covered with murals of the Buddha’s life.

Buddha watching over proceedings.

Feeling blessed, it was back to the bus and eventually the ship for lunch. We had some free time which allowed me the opportunity to find an ATM and get some American dollars, the preferred currency. The only challenge here was the need to cross the road. There was slightly less traffic than Vietnam, but it moved more quickly. It was a public holiday, so the roads were busy. No sign of a pedestrian crossing or a break in traffic. I did what any Redfern boy would do, waited for a half break and made a run for it. Money safely pocketed, I sprinted, oh alright, moved very quickly back across the road to safety.

The market entrance

The first bus to the central markets left at 2:30pm. This market was the only one permitted to operate during Pol Pot’s regime. It is quite expansive and navigation can be an issue if you are attempting to cover every part of it. The central market is a dome and there are five arms radiating from it. Each of these arms leads to an outer ring, although it’s not quite circular.

Stuff.

More stuff.

If you are in the market (see what I did there?) to purchase something, you’ll find it here. Clothes, material to make clothes, watches, rings, jewellery, sunglasses, electronics, kitchenware, tableware, flowers, cosmetics, underwear, the aisles went on and on. It is the place to buy “genuine fakes” in Cambodia and the locals shop here because the quality is good and they can’t afford name brands. So we were told.

Pretty.

Mmmm. Yum.

The air inside the dome is oppressive and there are times where it seems to be non-existent. Almost sauna like except it’s still humid. It has the effect of hurrying the haggling. We bagged some name brand ‘bargains’ and continued our circuit finding more and more arms of the market to explore. The fresh food section was interesting. Fish, prawns, chicken, beef, frogs, all laid out for purchase, and something that was alive but unidentifiable, in a pot of bubbling aerated water.

Our time was nearing the end and we made our way back to the bus area searching for one more bargain. And there it was, a Louis Vuitton Pikachu t-shirt for $10US. Seriously, for a knock-off, no way. $5 said Jayne. “No, no,” was the reply. So, we walked. She didn’t follow. No deal. Sorry Dave.

Pre-dinner that evening, there was a student performance of traditional Cambodian dancing. It comprised of four different dances. The traditional dance of the girls, a story told in dance about the monkey king, the coconut shell dance and that really dangerous dance where you can have ankles broken between two very thick poles.

The best dance of the night called for audience participation. Thankfully, I was not selected, but Jayne was … centre stage with the girls doing the special hand movements. A photo dear reader? Yes, I have some, but I'm not stupid enough to post one here. I like living. However, for a small fee ... DM me.

I was scared. One false step.

Then it was cracker night. Ok, ok, fireworks. Independence Day celebrations go for three days here and we were well positioned to see the fireworks from our mooring. It was first real excursion to the upper deck. There was a breeze but it was still quite warm. Fireworks don’t hold any great fascination for me. I am uncertain whether the root cause is age or the overdose of fireworks we get in Sydney.

Cracker night.

Regardless, it was dinner time. Back to the restaurant for another lovely meal. Then upstairs to see the “American superstar”. I was expecting some Elvis impersonator, but no, it was an American guy, late 70s, with a guitar, singing ‘classics’. Well they are if you’re my age.

Oops, almost forgot to reference the title. It is, of course, one of my favourite Australian groups, Leonardo's Bride. Buddha Baby. Enjoy.

Until next time.