Sadly, it was time to leave Siem Reap and make our way to Phnom Penh. Our taxi driver on this journey was Mr Thearak, a very knowledgeable and interesting guide with immaculate English. We did manage to teach him one new English word – Outgoing – when describing how we were looking forward to meeting up with Jessie who is, undoubtedly, very outgoing!
Along the journey he told us many interesting facts about the many temples we had seen and also made an unscheduled stop at the Kampong Kdei Bridge. This was built in the 12th century and one has to admire the engineering – still standing in pristine condition and still used by local traffic.
Further along the journey we stopped at a roadside collection of food vendors – the first “Truck Stop” in Cambodia, Skuon Market. This is about the halfway point of the journey and the locals prepare a range of delicacies to sell to truck drivers making the trip from Phnom Penh to Siem Reap. These include fried tarantulas, larva of various insects, grasshoppers – basically anything that moves and can be captured can be cooked and eaten. Sadly, we did not stop for lunch there.
Arriving in Phnom Penh, Mr Thearak delivered us through the rush-hour traffic to our hotel, the Urban Plantation and Spa hotel, well above our usual standard of accommodation but utterly lovely. It was very conveniently located, right next to the Royal Palace and just around the corner from the main reason we included Phnom Penh on our itinerary, our very dear friend George Jefferies.
George is one of three brothers who grew up in Ratley in Warwickshire, just at the top of the hill when our three boys were growing up in Radway. They were great friends and all went to primary school together. George is a filmmaker and has lived in Phnom Penh for about twenty years now. He was our local, native guide! After we settled in, George came round to collect us and took us for a gentle stroll along the river followed by some cocktails and ultimately ending up at an excellent Italian restaurant for a bite of dinner.
The next day George met us at the hotel and we wandered slowly along to the Wat Phnom Daun Penh. Compared to some of the temples we’ve seen, this was fairly “ordinary” if any temples can be considered ordinary. From there, after a leisurely and protracted coffee in a nearby café, we made our way to the Central Market where one can get anything and everything. After some fairly skilful haggling, I managed to acquire a pair of nail clippers having foolishly left ours at home.
George went home to do some work while we made our way to S-21, the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum, one of the notorious interrogation and killing centres of the Khmer Rouge. Although this was absolutely horrific, as a museum and a reminder of the atrocities carried out, it was very well done. One does wonder how anyone can be so cruel and ruthless, seemingly just because they could. Horrible, horrible things were done here and in other camps throughout the country. Very, very moving and I’m not ashamed to admit that I was choked up listening to and reading the accounts of the brutality these people endured. And why is it still being allowed to happen in various parts of the world? Genocide, ethnic cleansing, the sacking and denunciation of scientists and other experts, etc. What’s happening in certain parts of the world is not all that dissimilar to what the Khmer Rouge did in Cambodia.
The next day was busy – for some reason Penny and George decided it would be fun to hire some bikes and cycle out to a Silk Community located on the appropriately-named Silk Island in the middle of the Mekong River.
And, it was a great idea. We were there a bit before the main tours so had the place more or less to ourselves. A very informative guide showed us around and explained the whole process of silk making. There were silk moths in various stages of development and it was fascinating to see how the silk could easily be “unwound” from the cocoon. There were also about a dozen women from the local community who operated their looms in a traditional way. The fabric they were producing was gorgeous.
We then took off up the road for a further bike ride around the island but the heat was stifling and the sun unrelenting. So, after about half an hour we turned around and made our way back to the ferry and back into Phnom Penh.
I had awakened with a somewhat squiffy tummy so we got a tuktuk back to the hotel and, while I napped, Penny and George headed off to the French Institute to see the film The Rice People by Rithy Panh. By all accounts it was very good and, on the strength of that, George suggested another of his films, Un Soir Après la Guerre (One Evening After the War) which we were able to get on YouTube and watch while we were in Ho Chi Minh City. Very good. We had but one last dinner out with George at a Lebanese tapas-type place. Apparently, it was very good but it was hard for me to tell as my boiled rice for my rumbling tummy tasted very similar to any boiled rice I’ve had before.
Next time . . .
Onward to the zoo which is Ho Chi Minh City.
We’ve enjoyed a couple of outings this week – up to London on Wednesday to meet up with friends to see a play, Alterations, at the National Theatre. It’s always great fun to meet up with great friends on an expedition to London – good food and good company and often a pretty good play. Unfortunately, Alterations did not really live up to expectations. It’s about a group of West Indians who have come to the UK after the war hoping to make their fortunes. The man who runs the clothing alterations business has dreams of becoming a rich and famous tailor but along the way one of his workers messes up a large, important order and his wife leaves him for another man as he devotes all his attentions to the business. The acting was fine, the set and staging were fine. It was all just “fine”. Not great but fine. Oh well.
Then, on Thursday evening we had the latest (and, sadly, the last) of this season’s Moreton Pinkney Film Nights, Castles in the Sky with Eddie Izzard. Not great but it does have a little local significance. Eddie Izzard plays Robert Watson-Watt who was instrumental in the development of radar just prior to the outbreak of World War II. The local connection is a field not far from here on the way to Northampton. Beside the gate there is a large plaque describing the field as the place where radar was successfully demonstrated for the first time.
The film didn’t cover it but there is one somewhat amusing anecdote about the demonstration. For some reason, Watson-Watt had his young nephew with him on the morning of the demonstration. However, because this was super top-secret stuff, the boy was not allowed into the field where the demonstration was to be held. (In the film the young boy actually helps his uncle set up the equipment).
The demonstration proceeds and their system works, to their huge delight. Watson-Watt and his crew are so excited that they leap into their van and speed off towards base. Leaving the young boy behind. I don’t know how far they got before they realised but thankfully, he was waiting when they went back to collect him and all worked out well.
In other news . . . it’s been a fabulous week. No wasted journeys, no waiting in traffic queues and glorious, glorious weather. Clear blue skies and bright sunshine – still a bit fresh, especially when the wind blows but, apart from that minor inconvenience, it’s been grand.
Meanwhile, keep breathing, keep happy, keep smiling, keep exercising, be good, be careful, and keep safe. And be gentle to wasps and bees – we need all the pollinators we can get.
Lots of love to you all,
Greg