While our passports were being made ready for India we decided to hit the beach in Sihanoukville. We spent just one and a half days here, the half a day being mainly spent on one of Dave's missions to find cheaper food and drink away from the tourist hotels. We walked into the town of Sihanoukville in blazing hot conditions, discovered that the town was quite unpleasant, that a bottle of coke costs about 10p cheaper in town and that I really don't like walking for miles, in flip flops, in the sun - grrrrr!
The next day I was determined to venture no further than the beach so we enjoyed breakfast at one of the places on the sand and then flopped onto a sun lounger. I'd love to tell you that we then spent a glorious day relaxing and topping up our tans but we were hounded constantly by the various beach sellers touting their wares, kids with bracelets, women giving pedicures and massages, limbless beggars, blind men singing and a whole array of others. By the time I had newly painted nails and we both had bits of string around our wrists the clouds had gathered and it had started to rain - humpphhh! We retreated into one of the beach bars and enjoyed a beer, read our books and chatted to a couple who now live in Goa and told us that we would hate India in August because of the monsoon and not to bother going!!
Despite not being in our 20's (I know, I know, it's a surprise to you all that we no longer fall into this age bracket) we ventured back to the beach bars that night for dinner and drinks and enjoyed a meal listening to the lapping of the water on the shore and watching the kids swing fire around their heads. We were early enough that we could actually hear the sea over the 'boom boom' music that pumps out of these places later on into the night (oh dear I really sound like my Dad now)!
With not a lot else to hold us in Sihanoukville the next day we boarded a bus for the riverside destination of Kampot.
Arrived in Kampot and pushed our way through the usual crowd of tuk-tuk drivers to find ourselves a very pleasant spot on the riverside. Spent the afternoon having a nosey around and somehow getting lost in this very small place. Booked ourselves onto a trek into Bokor national park the next day and then went in search of a restaurant called 'The Rusty Keyhole' which had been pointed out as a must by Mr. Strachan after his visit to Kampot about 9 months ago. We soon found out that the place had recently moved out of town and we would need to hire a tuk-tuk to get out there. Not put off by this inconvenience we jumped into said vehicle and bumped and screeched our way out of town and into the rural surroundings of Kampot. Our journey did not go unrewarded as we were greeted with unrivalled hospitality and the best plate of ribs you could ever imagine.
After our monster meal the night before if was a good job that we had some activity planned the next day and we were picked up just after breakfast and whisked away up into the hills of Cambodia, the Bokor National park to be exact. We soon transferred out of our minibus and into the back of a pick up truck to take us onto the unfinished road higher up the hill. We all bounced around in the back and were glad to hop out when we reached the beginning of the jungle trail. The conditions were hot and humid and unfortunately we didn't see any signs of the promised wildlife, probably due to the road building going on in very close proximity to our trail. Our final destination was the old French hill station on top of the hill which we explored for a few hours after lunch.
All the buildings are abandoned now including the church, hotel and post office and have more recently been used as hide outs for the Khymer Rouge during their skirmishes with the Vietnamese. The cloud and rain rolled in scarily quickly while we were up there and obscured the previously magnificent views over to the coast.
We piled back into the pick up truck, scampered back down the jungle trail with the threat of thunder looming and were then deposited back in town for our sunset cruise along the river. By this time we were all feeling whacked and would have happily swapped our wooden boat for a wooden bed. We cruised for about an hour up river taking in the sights and sounds of river life, as well as the snores of some of our fellow passengers and were rewarded at journey's end with a fabulous sunset.
We took to two wheels the next day and ventured out into the surrounding countryside which is a mixture of rice paddies and salt pans. Spent a very enjoyable few hours pedalling about and generally enjoying being under our own steam.
Dropped into the 'Rusty Keyhole' again but managed to resist the huge plate of ribs this time. Visited the original fishing village of Kampot on the way back and got told off by a Cambodian official for pedalling on the newly completed Promenade on the riverfront. We were rather proud of that achievement in a country where red lights count for nothing, driving on the right side of the road is optional and road sense is generally non-existent!
The next day it was time to leave the tranquil Kampot and head back to the madness of Phnom Penh.
The next day I was determined to venture no further than the beach so we enjoyed breakfast at one of the places on the sand and then flopped onto a sun lounger. I'd love to tell you that we then spent a glorious day relaxing and topping up our tans but we were hounded constantly by the various beach sellers touting their wares, kids with bracelets, women giving pedicures and massages, limbless beggars, blind men singing and a whole array of others. By the time I had newly painted nails and we both had bits of string around our wrists the clouds had gathered and it had started to rain - humpphhh! We retreated into one of the beach bars and enjoyed a beer, read our books and chatted to a couple who now live in Goa and told us that we would hate India in August because of the monsoon and not to bother going!!
Despite not being in our 20's (I know, I know, it's a surprise to you all that we no longer fall into this age bracket) we ventured back to the beach bars that night for dinner and drinks and enjoyed a meal listening to the lapping of the water on the shore and watching the kids swing fire around their heads. We were early enough that we could actually hear the sea over the 'boom boom' music that pumps out of these places later on into the night (oh dear I really sound like my Dad now)!
With not a lot else to hold us in Sihanoukville the next day we boarded a bus for the riverside destination of Kampot.Arrived in Kampot and pushed our way through the usual crowd of tuk-tuk drivers to find ourselves a very pleasant spot on the riverside. Spent the afternoon having a nosey around and somehow getting lost in this very small place. Booked ourselves onto a trek into Bokor national park the next day and then went in search of a restaurant called 'The Rusty Keyhole' which had been pointed out as a must by Mr. Strachan after his visit to Kampot about 9 months ago. We soon found out that the place had recently moved out of town and we would need to hire a tuk-tuk to get out there. Not put off by this inconvenience we jumped into said vehicle and bumped and screeched our way out of town and into the rural surroundings of Kampot. Our journey did not go unrewarded as we were greeted with unrivalled hospitality and the best plate of ribs you could ever imagine.
After our monster meal the night before if was a good job that we had some activity planned the next day and we were picked up just after breakfast and whisked away up into the hills of Cambodia, the Bokor National park to be exact. We soon transferred out of our minibus and into the back of a pick up truck to take us onto the unfinished road higher up the hill. We all bounced around in the back and were glad to hop out when we reached the beginning of the jungle trail. The conditions were hot and humid and unfortunately we didn't see any signs of the promised wildlife, probably due to the road building going on in very close proximity to our trail. Our final destination was the old French hill station on top of the hill which we explored for a few hours after lunch. 
All the buildings are abandoned now including the church, hotel and post office and have more recently been used as hide outs for the Khymer Rouge during their skirmishes with the Vietnamese. The cloud and rain rolled in scarily quickly while we were up there and obscured the previously magnificent views over to the coast.
We piled back into the pick up truck, scampered back down the jungle trail with the threat of thunder looming and were then deposited back in town for our sunset cruise along the river. By this time we were all feeling whacked and would have happily swapped our wooden boat for a wooden bed. We cruised for about an hour up river taking in the sights and sounds of river life, as well as the snores of some of our fellow passengers and were rewarded at journey's end with a fabulous sunset.
We took to two wheels the next day and ventured out into the surrounding countryside which is a mixture of rice paddies and salt pans. Spent a very enjoyable few hours pedalling about and generally enjoying being under our own steam. 
Dropped into the 'Rusty Keyhole' again but managed to resist the huge plate of ribs this time. Visited the original fishing village of Kampot on the way back and got told off by a Cambodian official for pedalling on the newly completed Promenade on the riverfront. We were rather proud of that achievement in a country where red lights count for nothing, driving on the right side of the road is optional and road sense is generally non-existent!The next day it was time to leave the tranquil Kampot and head back to the madness of Phnom Penh.
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