sihanoukville and phnom penh

I've just spent the last three days in Sihanoukville on the Cambodian coast. I've come away with a sense of affection for the place, and would even like to return there some day. There's not an awful lot to see and do down there, but there is a lovely undeveloped beach, and the feeling of having escaped for a while from the rest of the world. On my first day I concentrated on relaxing. On my second day I rested. The third day I spent relaxing and resting.

When not gazing at the lush and gorgeous view of Victory Beach from my hotel on the hillside (a view beautiful even in rain), I did manage to do one or two things.

On Sunday, I jumped on a moto, and caught a ride down to the Seeing Hands Massage Centre. 'Seeing Hands' raises funds to empower disabled Cambodians. It is administered by highly skilled blind masseurs and is a great way to wind down.

My masseur was a small and quiet blind woman, whose diminutive figure masked her superhuman strength. At the beginning she asked me 'soft or hard,' and I replied foolishly the latter. When the hour was up, and I was battling desperately to re-establish semi-consciousness, I spluttered, 'thanks, that was great, err, sorry, I mean "aw kahn."'

Another accomplishment was made when I visited the local market and bought some durian fruit. Michael Palin ate durian in one of his travel series, and ever since watching him chomp on the soft innards of the infamous fruit I've wanted to try it myself. Durian is notorious for its offensive smell, and is banned outright in a number of South East Asian public spaces for this reason, but the taste is good and that's why people eat it.

I found a stall stacked with durian and bartered hard with the woman on the stall. After about two minutes, having achieved no discount whatsoever, I gave in and bought an entire fruit (a kilo) for two dollars. I then took it down to the beach and set to work. For the record, I didn't think it smelt particularly bad at all. It did have a slight pungence, but it didn't put me off eating it, and didn't make me want to wretch. I ate about four large pieces until I began to feel sick from over eating. The fruit was soft and succulent, and had a nice but eventually sickly taste. It felt a bit like biting through dough to eat.

Feeling full, I still had about a hundred segments left, so I shared them with the kids on the beach selling bracelets. They duly informed me that the name of the fruit is pronounced 'du-rain' in Cambodia not 'durian,' and devoured the segments faster than Jaws could get through a couple of Amity teenagers.

Yesterday, I caught the bus back up to Phnom Penh to begin preparing to move on to Vietnam (I'm going on Saturday). I've seen everything I'm going to see in Cambodia and it's time to move on.

I'm staying at the Narin Guesthouse, which is located directly opposite the Phnom Penh Maternity Unit. So the street outside is populated with heavily pregnant women, all waddling backwards and forwards. From the balcony of my hotel I can see across to the hospital balconies where Cambodian men pace up and down saying into their mobile phones, 'it's a boy,' or, 'it's a girl,' or, 'it's been thirty hours, and this bloody thing is taking longer than the QE2 to launch.' They all seem very calm I must say.

Today is a pretty easy day. I've got to write this blog (done), and collect my washing. I also need to go and get a new book from the bookshop opposite the Royal Palace, and to investigate pricings for one-way tickets to Vietnam. Bit of an 'administrative' day ahead.