Rumblings of a marketing man on tour…

I accidentally hit snooze on the alarm this morning. Having had about four hours sleep, I was absolutely bushed. In a haze on hearing it the second time, it slowly dawned on me this leg of the tour was coming to a close. I had a flight to the ‘pore to catch, and it was time to get a wriggle on…

Up, shower, check out. I was rather touched to get a call via the taxi driver on the way to the airport from the hotel receptionist, telling me he’d undercharged me a whole US dollar, and could I leave it with the cabby? No please, no thank you.

My tripadvisor write up of them will reflect just how I feel on that one…

So, an overpriced coffee+croissant as I wait to board. And mild confusion as to the radio they’re playing. 80′s and 90′s ‘classics’ (and I am using that term VERY loosely you understand), from Bryan Adams, Whitney (whose new song million dollar man I love), Mariah etc. But when the song reaches the rousing climactic key change, they’re skipping onto the next song.

I mean, it’s the key change (or modulation if we’re being pedantic), for Christ’s sake. The whole song hangs off that euphoric moment. Still, I digress.

The near disaster of the morning, Jetstar nearly didn’t let me board my flight back to SG to make my London connection. Twas meant to be a two part return, Siem Reap to Phnom Penh, and then onto Singapore. Same plane, just a quick stop.

Before booking my bus to PP and changing my plans, I double checked with Jetstar that I could skip flight part one and just get on at PP. Computer said yes.

This morning however, computer said no. The computer said I didn’t exist, therefore I couldn’t board, and would need to buy a new ticket. I thought at the time phone call with Jetstar went a tad too easily. I obviously got the call-centre equivalent of the McTrainee with 0/5 stars to their name…

Amazing what a little mild flirtation, charm and humility can get you. So, to the lovely check in supervisor who ended up going from stern to putty in approximately 90 seconds, I thank you for your assistance and securing my safe passage back to the ‘pore…

Iain is off for lunch in SG, and bidding a fond farewell to Cambodia and her friendly people…

I am here...

So, Phnom Penh. An interesting place.

Was once a major hub in the region. And then various conquerers (and the evil KR), blitzed it. So, once more, it’s just on the cusp of growth with a burgeoning middle class and international money starting to flow in…

It’s a little manic (we’re not talking Mumbai madness), and the pace is somewhat quicker than sleepy Siem Reap.

Would have been better to start here and wind down in Siem, as opposed to doing it this way…

Tomorrow, the tick box tourism sites. The Palace (still used, only small sections open to the public), Museum, wander round the Mekong river bank (trendy cafe spot), and then the Killing Fields.

Am in two minds about this. I know the horrors this country has faced. And I nearly wigged out in a concentration camp outside Berlin, wasn’t pretty.

But, can’t come all this way and not do something like that, so onwards…

Am exhausted. Feel like a cheat going to bed before 11pm, but I am absolutely shagged, and my neck glands are telling me that the candle would like to be burnt at one end. At least for a day or two…

Hotel is ok. Tuktuk driver said it was very expensive, could take me somewhere nicer. I believe he was right.

It’s ok, but I’ll be complaining in the morning when I have the energy. Fridge isn’t working, floor needs a mop (it’s concrete), my glasses are chipped, and the electrics look more than a little shabby…

Still, beds comfy. Until tomorrow.

Iain is off to bed…

Please move to Crouch End...

OK.

So if I am honest (I will try my bestest), there are several reasons for this. My being a lazy toad is but one of them!

But needing a place to recharge after several hours worth of hard templing is the main one. I am starting to find muscles in my legs I thought had abandoned me long ago, darn those big temple steps make you work!

So, my love of the blue pumpkin is easily summarised in a little list below. I love lists I do…

1. The ambiance, this place is so relaxing.
2. The food. It’s delicious, everything from pastries, to sandwiches, to full meals. Not forgetting the coffees and the fresh fruit juices. And cakes. And donuts. And home made ice-cream. My list could go on…
3. The very attentive staff (and not all of them are male / hot!)
4. Free wifi. That’s reliable. And works all the time! Something of a rarity I’m led to believe…
5. It’s handy location.

I’m not sure why, but the waiters seem to be much more attentive and hardworking than the waitresses. All the guys here work at twice the pace the women do. The ladies just seem to saunter around, not a care in the world whilst the men work twice as hard.

Still, I’m being kept fed, watered and am happy after my 2 days temple bashing. Tired, body aching and not looking forward to a 5 hour bus journey to Phnom Penh tomorrow. That massage I’m off for shortly should help ease the pain….

Iain really loves Blue Pumpkin. PLEASE open one in Crouch End for when I get home. You are miles better than any of my local eateries. Even S’able d’or. And that’s saying something…

Is having to wait a day.

Don’t know whether it was one beer too many last night (I only had six), the early start, or just general lethargy, but I could not haul my carcass out of bed.

So, I’m doing templeage tomorrow and Wednesday. And my bus (urgh), is booked to take me to Phnom Penh (das capital), Thursday morning…

I think a wander round the old market, the riverside and a rather long spell in the Blue Pumpkin (food is AMAZING!), where I’m currently breakfasting beckons today….

Iain is ready for brunch…

A lazy day in the Reap...

Think it’s time I went back to skool.

A history degree might come in handy. If I’m going to be the modern day marketer (which I would like to think I am), I need to brush up on history.

I like to think I have a pretty good handle on current events, but jeez, these guys have had it tough. And such a rich history. Wark style, more on that later…

So, my hotel is charming. Built just last year, it has 20 original Cambodian style rooms (like little cottages), all facing the pool. Which I’m about to hit. John Smith’s olympic bomb stylee.

I made the fatal mistake of hitting bed when I got the room. 6 hours later, up, bright and breezy(ish), I’ve planned my week…

- 2 days temple bashing
- 1 day ‘cultcha’, museums, art n’shit (n’shit being a technical arty farty term)
- 1 day travel to the capital. Me, a bus. 5 hours. Immodium at the ready…
- 3 days in the capital (killing fields and depression await. Can’t be worse than the concentration camps. Right?)

And then it’s back to Blighty.

So, am off to the pool, followed by a mooch around the night market, dinner in the blue pumpkin (looks like where the cool kids go), and then a little drink in a cozy bar located on the most famous of alley’s. No, not diagon, pub alley. Insert back passage pun <here>.

Iain is off to get some pool time…