Ko Lanta & Ko Phi Phi

The end of our diving courses signaled many things to us: the ability to dive anywhere in the world down to 30m; the completion of 10 dives in 8 days; a not so healthy savings account; and the time to move to a new (and cheaper) location. Without knowing costs and living in a perpetual state of naivity regarding the country, we decided that Ko Phi Phi would be a good choice. This dream was shattered within ten minutes of conception by one of the dive masters who described how Ko Phi Phi once desimated his bank balance and so we should head to the nearby island of Ko Lanta instead. In order for us to complete this journey, Luke and myself would have to part ways once again; his visa had officially ended 4 days previously so would need to cross the border to Burma and come back again to renew it, and I would go directly to our tin-pot paradise.

I boarded my boat at 9pm with the intention of gaining a few hours sleep before reaching Surathani at 5am. Upon handing over my ticket, the lady advised that there were no beds left so I would have to sleep downstairs. Without thinking, I engaged in the hopeless art of arguing over what I was due in the way of a bed, and forgot that the concept of trade description was not a translatable phrase in Thai. I kept my backpack next to me, used the day-pack as a pillow, and tried to achieve a state of sleep by thinking about the orthopedic advantages of sleeping on a hardwood floor. I badly needed the supporting sound of dear ol' Jack Daniels to sing me lullaby. We arrived ahead of schedule and everyone disembarked with the grace of a stoned sloth. Looks of confusion, disawareness, and a hint of fear, animated everyone's faces as we were herded to our respective points for onward travel. Mine involved a tuk-tuk ride to a bus terminal, a 4 hour bus ride, followed by an hour on another boat, and a final tuk-tuk ride to the Pearl Beach Bungalow resort on Long Beach, Ko Lanta. Luke arrived somewhat more weary and about 8 hours after me - his journey made mine seem like a walk in the park.

In acceptance of our geological and geographical surroundings, we succumbed to the sand, spent hardly any money, and did very little for the first couple of days. After that we conceded to the draw of further ruining once untouched tourist attractions, and booked a boat trip around Ko Phi Phi, to include a visit to the now famous beach that featured in the film of that namesake.


Much of this area was destroyed by the tsunami so it is hard to judge the place without rewarding a few handicap points, but even with those, I wasn't impressed. I'd heard the film company had done much to improve the 'perfect' beach, and from watching the film and now seeing it, I would agree. In fairness, my impression was greatly ruined by the swarms of taxi boats clinging to the shore line like flies to sugar. Almost as soon as the tsunami retreated, a new and less sympathic wave broke through and consumed the area with new devastation. Not seen on the television, this wave was funded by the government and carried the unremorseful cargo of people, development money, and all the supplies needed to usurp the power of nature and leave a more permanent scar.

The highlight of this trip was a short snorkelling expedition in one cove away from all the other boats. The depth was only about 3 m but the visibility but must have been nearer 20m enabling us to see a massive variety of fish, from some recognisable faces from Ko Nang Yuan, to a few new additions, such a sea snake and a couple of 'Nemo' families (Clownfish). When diving or snorkelling it is easy to shut out (or not hear) all the life above the surface and feel truly at peace with the fish below. The contradiction of this pleasure is that, my being there is still as an unnatural visitor to the fish's domain, probably upset them, and will only serve to increase the number of people going there. So, what is the answer? Go the 'Daffy' route from 'The Beach' - try to get everyone to leave this paradise as it should be and turn your back on heaven? Or, do what you can to protect it from becoming just another 'ride' in the proverbial park and be a eternal hippy of Greenpeace protecing the globe with a helmt of dreads and a sword of weed?

Back on Ko Lanta, we saw out the rest of our days relaxing on the beach and our evenings relaxing in the beach front bars, until that fateful day arrived - our time in Thailand had come to an end and we watched the sun fading into ocean knowing that the next day we would see it from another country

I felt like a boxer watching the towel being flung into the ring, and knowing that I still had plenty to give in this fight. I wondered if any of my punches had actually connected and thus if I would feel that I fought proudly in this country. Would my visit to Thailand be looked back on with the eyes that I saw places like Nepal or would a rose tint need to be carefully applied before satisfaction could be attained. Then, as if the solution was that of an incomprehendable mathematical equation, I realised that I didn't need to go tomorrow. My time-table was my own creation and could be continuously adjusted as I saw fit. I played out the advantages and disadvantages of staying. The more I thought about it the better the idea sounded as it would give me more time to see Thailand, explore Malaysia and arrive in Australia at the same time as my girlfriend so we could see everything together. And so, I made my decision with enough time to spare to catch the towel before it hit the canvass and throw a vicious right hook into the jaw of my plans. This fight was not over.

Ko Nang Yuan - Advanced Open Water Course

After a full day of resting and an early night, I was ready to start the Advanced course and complete the final exam for the Open Water course. The advanced section had: 3 compulsory scenarios, Deep Dive (to 30m), Navigational, and Night Dive, and then 2 chosen from a list: Naturalist Dive, DPV Dive.

The most memorable option for me was the Night Dive. We entered the water with torches and were told that we would see a completely different set of creatures from during the day - the predators mostly come at night.....mostly. It's true, we did see a different range of animals, and the scenery was slightly different; the urchins had moved from their hiding patches to cover the top surfaces of rocks. But, the most amazing experience for me came courtesy of a much simpler organism. Once I had attained neutral buoyancy and was hovering at a fairly constant level above the sea bed, I stayed there and took in my surroundings. In every direction there was a thick congealed blackness that was only slightly disturbed by the consumption of the faint rays of light from our torches. If you turned away from everyone and switched your own light off, there was an immediate strong feeling of being very alone. The only sound accompanying this was from your own breathing, which due to the regulator sounded remarkably like Darth Vader in the midst of an amorous prank phone call. Without the feeling of ground beneath your feet, air blowing on your face, or being able to see anything in front of you, you feel slightly disorientated. Then, when I had achieved this glorious state of disillusionment, I moved my hands in front of me and consequently disturbed the phosphorescent algae. It was like looking at an empty universe and then creating billions of stars with every movement of your hands. Apologies for sounding like a hippy with delusions of grandeur but that's the only way I can describe the sensation. Billions of tiny stars exploded into life wherever you hands moved and then dimmed into nothing again when left be. I spent the remainder of the dive seeking out predators with repeated moments of creating galaxies, until the air was nearly gone from our tanks, and we surfaced near the shore. A few of us then remained to float on our backs in the shallows and admire the crystal clear view of the stars above.

The other dive which I thoroughly enjoyed and this time for a more simple male reason of playing with toys, was the DPV dive - "Dive Propulsion Vehicle." The benefit of these things is a complete lack of effort required to see more area than on an unaided dive, and spend more time underwater (obviously air is used more economically when something else is doing all the work). The main benefits to us however, were pulling barrel rolls, loop-the-loops, & generally flying around the dive sites like Superman.


We celebrated the end of our advanced course with a free dive courtesy of the school, and a loan of their underwater camera (all of the photos used for the blog entries for this island were taken in this session). The rest of our time was spent fairly evenly divided between doing nothing on the beach, planning our departure to the West Coast of Thailand, and generally having a laugh with the staff from the dive school.

Ko Nang Yuan seems to be rarely visited by the usual Lonely Planet crew of backpackers, and through development will distance itself further and further from everyone but the rich. It has already taken on a dream like quality for me as, I struggle to accept that the water was as clear as I remembered, the islands were that beautiful, and the sky really was those colours.

Ko Pha Ngan - The Full Moon Party

Our journey to Ko Pha Ngan began with a two hour trip on a 'party boat' from Ko Tao. The boat was rammed with over a hundred revellers hypnotised by a effluent stream of trance massacres and cheesy house tunes from the 90s. The immortal words of Han Solo echoed through my mind as I began to accept the evening's fate, "I got a bad feeling about this".

When someone first mentioned the Full Moon Parties to me a few years ago I envisaged an opening to the jungle that would only be exposed once the vegetation was brushed aside from your path. This opening would lead right to the water's edge with the only illumination falling from the moon and the billion stars ahead glistening above. I imagined that there would be an overwhelming sense of being a part of something, and everyone would seem to coalesce as the music drenched them. As the years went by and I received more and more reports from people who had actually been, my dream was viciously mutilated with every succeding statement, and I no longer was sure I wanted to view the tattered remains.

Within 20 yards of the pier, it feels as though you are on a Spanish island. The streets are littered with pissed & tarted up Westerers stumbling in between bars showing TV shows like Friends. If you ignored the weather it would seem like a night out in Essex ;)

The party itself takes place on the beach. Each of the bars that back onto the sand competes for business with different styles (& volumes) of music and daring fire displays performed mainly by local kids. This blatant competition destroys any essense of unity which may have once occurred here and the only surving defining feature is the consumption of alcohol to a backdrop of noise. The current bucket favoured by the masses is 50clof whisky, a can of coke, and a Thai redbull (loaded with enough Taurine to revive Elvis and enough amphetimines to get him dancing.



From 9pm onwards there were people passed out on the beach and others pissing into the sea wherever you looked. We got into full swing of things by buying a bucket and a beers and moving around until we found a bar playing favourable music. We kept ourselves amused by taking photos of people that were passed out and asking the prices for stupidly random tattoos like an full grown african elephant playing basketball with a coconut - the whiskey had begin to kick in at this point. This extreme approach to things coupled with the occasional spasm of tripping the light fantastic got us through the night until about 4am when tiredness was weighing too heavily on the eyelids. So, with no place to sleep we did what anyone would do (if they'd thought of it), and went to a massage parlour. No, not a dodgy Bangkok back alley massage parlour, but a proper one. Now, knowing the excrutiating pain that a Thai girl can exert in a massage, I decided to opt for the one that would inolve the least amount of sleep disturbance - a foot massage. Calculating that a massage would take one hour and cost 250 baht, we decided that 500 baht was well worth it, to pass the time until our boat would return save our souls.

The homeward bound trip was significantly less energetic and only consisted of about 5% of the people who caught the boat on the way there - evidently some of the 'gentlemen in high spirits' lying face down in the sand were indended passengers of our boat. The journey passed by to the struggled sounds of conversation and a general lacking of enthusiam to anything the world offered except a place to sleep. Why is it that when you feel absolutely tired, hungover and ill, you always crave death and not simply to feel well again?

The full moon party was nothing more than an opiate enhanced echo of it's former self. People paid for a bucket of liver damage and expected a piece of distant hedonism. They received a Magaluf dose of catatonic familiarity.

Or maybe not. Maybe this was the true essence of a full moon party and it was only my fantasy that was wildly wrong and I was simply upset as an illusion had been shattered. Or, maybe I am just hungover, tired, and feeling extremely bitter about everything in the world from the air that surrounds me to the people that breathe it. You gotta love those beautiful notions of self-righteousness that feel justified when submerged in the depths of a hangover.

Ko Nang Yuan - Open Water Course

Ko Nang Yuan is the glorious celebration of 3 island which have broken free of Poseidon's grasp and extended towards heaven. The 3 peaks are connected by beaches that are created and continuously moved by ocean currents. Within the additional effects of lunar and solar gravity, the sand bridges can rise to 1 metre above sea level or half a metre below according to the time of day and month.

The island is privately leased from the Thai government and is under plan to be developed into a 5* resort. It currently maintains a level of exclusivity by charging astronomical fees for accommodation to anyone not on a diving course, a similarly priced menu, and charging an admission fee to anyone not staying on the island. This causes some people to view the island with resentment and others to bask in the feeling of being a part of somewhere special.

The Open Water Diving Course began with an enthusiastic introduction and discussion of what would be covered, and then onto the basics of underwater safety. We worked through the paperwork with a continuously increasing desire to ditch the books and actually get our feet wet. The procedure sounded simple enough - get your kit on, do a buddy check, a James Bond style water entry, breathe slowly & continuously, never hold your breath, and remember to equalise your ears as you descend - sorted.

Butterfly fish began to get restless in my stomach as we waded out from the beach and listened to our final instructions. I'd been looking forward to undertaking a diving course ever since sketching my travel plans over 4 years ago. And now, I stood on the brink of entering a new world, satisfying an ambition, gaining a new skill, and ticking one more thing of the list of life. The first couple of underwater breaths came as naturally as you'd expect from someone that has been competently breathing for over 25 years. The weird moments came when a fish distracted you from thinking about the breathing, and then when you remembered, the initial reaction was a reflex urge to head to the surface. The revelation of taking that next underwater breath and accepting your new lack of environmental constraints were immediately followed by a rush of adrenaline.

Once you have attained neutral buoyancy, you assume the mannerisms of a fledgling phantasm that has just realised it's flight potential, and is still getting to grips with the propulsion system. You then glide through the sea without a hint of urgency, taking in new sights in all directions and pitying the snorkellers hastily stealing a taste of this world with each breath held.

That first dive was at a site called Japanese Gardens and located to the east side of the islands. Within minutes of looking around we had already seen a massive variety of animals from coral banner fish & parrot fish to barrel sponges & tree worms. The sensation of skimming the sand bed, and flying between and over boulders, coupled with the high water visibility, provoked a strange feeling of being in a new additional to someone's tropical fish tank.

The second dive was to the east side of the adjoining sand bridge and at a site named 'Simon's Hangover' - probably named for where sections of rock protrude over the lower reaches and create a fun park of underwater tunnels, caves and causeways. Our entourage now included a school of bat fish, yellow margin trigger fish, hexagon groupers and the occasional reluctant appearance of a blue spotted lagoon ray.

With every minute breathing underwater, the whole situation became more easily accepted and taken for granted. We were beginning to feel like the initiation was over and we were rightful visitors to this new world. In the afternoon we headed out on a boat to Chumporn Pinnacle and reached our official maximum depth of 18m (I say official as Luke and I were checking out the scenery from 22m - well, rules are there to broken, aren't they?). After each dive we utilised the encyclopedic brain of Sally, our instructor, and accessed the names of all the fish we'd seen. Unfortunately my fish like memory has reduced many of the technical names to gibberish and descriptive terms such as the 'yellow goldfish'.

The final day of the Open Water course consisted of a morning and an afternoon dive, and an early finish that enabled us to set sail from the island and head to the darker recesses of an infamous full moon party on Ko Pha Ngan. We completed the last of the dive skills at the sites Green Rock & Twins and finished the course with a mandatory swimming test (note the sensible chronological placing of this event). The swim was completed to the applause of the instructors and to the sound of our newly attained titles of 'Open Water Divers'. I assume that we had shown excellent understanding of the course literature and technical information as our titles were bestowed on us before we had actually taken the final exam.

Abu Dhabi, a dreadlocked Hungarian, & a piece of paradise

Anyone who has read the book 'The Celestine Prophecy' should remember the following lesson of life that it presents to you on the journey of reading it. It states that every person walking the world may have a piece of information that would benefit you in some way. In all probability, they wouldn't know it, and wouldn't stop to talk to you unless prompted. In this respect, it is almost worth talking to as many new people as possible, as you never know what helpful piece of advise you may find out.

My plan for returning to travels was to get straight into the lifestyle again and tick another thing off my 'list'. In this instance, my goal was to complete a PADI Open Water Diving Course as soon as I got back to Thailand. I wasn't sure where to go or how much it was going to cost, but why worry about such inconsequential details in life?

My return flight from England to Thailand would once again stop in Abu Dhabi, but this time the airline was paying for a hotel for the night. Once we had reached the nominated hotel, we all queued to check in, and I got talking to a dreadlocked Hungarian, who similar to myself, wanted to get some food and explore what Abu Dhabi had to offer. I told him about my diving plans and he told me that he was a scuba diving instructor on a tiny island that enjoys some of the best diving available in Thailand. A quasi-coincidental signature of fate like this should never be ignored. After dinner, I researched what I could find on the internet about this diving paradise, and emailed Luke with the plan immediately. Without knowing Luke's response, and indeed, what he was planning for the coming days, I decided to just go to this island, trust that this was the right move, and hopefully meet him there.

I spend the 2nd part of the flight back to Bangkok, talking to Denes (the dive instructor) about Ko Nang Yuan (the island) and where I had traveled so far (read the blog ;) ). Once we arrived, neither of us wanted to stay in Bangkok any longer than absolutely necessary, so went straight to work in arranging travel to the island. This would consist of a train journey down to Chumporn and a catamaran to Ko Nang Yuan. Least, in an ideal world it would. Our optimism was not rewarded, and after buying the catamaran ticket, we arrived at the train station to discover there were no tickets available for the next 24 hours. Denes said he needed to get there as soon as possible and I said I needed to leave Bangkok as soon as possible. So, what do you do when there are no planes, trains or buses going where you want to go, when you want to go? You get a taxi to take you the 500km, and buy enough booze to put you to sleep for as much of the journey as possible. I don't remember a lot about the journey. I remember drinking the whiskey. I remember sleeping on a bench in some building waiting for the catamaran to arrive. I remember feeling very sick as the catamaran took us to the island, and I just about remember shaking the hands of a few of Denes' mates when we arrived at 9am, but apart from that, my memory doesn't work again until waking in the room at half four in the afternoon. This was the view that greeted me when I left the bungalow and walked to the beach.


Fate was definitely smiling down on me again. I enjoyed a lush dinner that evening, watched the sun setting over the ocean, and got an early night.

The next day, I awoke and left the bungalow with cardiac arrest inducing speed and jumped on a ferry to Koh Tao (the nearest big island – one which actually had more than one restaurant, internet facilities, and roads!). After a successful trip to an internet café, and consequently finding out that Luke thought the island sounded spot on and was on route, I spend the rest of the day on the beach at Koh Tao, and watched the sun stroll lazily across the sky until Luke's arrival.

Just what I needed - A holiday from a holiday

Time has a funny way of travelling faster and slower depending on what you are doing and your state of mind at the time. I had been away now for just under 3 months and yet in many ways it already seemed like a year. Each country I had visited seemed to have produced months of memories despite the limited time I was there. I'm not sure if the sensation of being away for ages is indicative of the massive amount of ground covered and places seen, or simply the manifestation of missing home. In one respect, there are aspects of the life I left behind which provoke no sorrow when considering the possibility of never returning. And yet, there are others that I miss so much at times, that I feel detached from experiences that should rightly be greeted with an ear tickling smile worthy of a Cheshire cat. Never one to analyse things too much and instead rely on decisions of the heart, I decided to take a holiday from travelling and spend Christmas in England with my girlfriend. I know, shock, shock, horror, but trust me, even the most idealic beaches in Thailand pale in beauty to some things in life.

In adherence of "the world is a small place" philosophy, I took a flight from Bangkok, via Abu Dhabi and was back in cold, wet, England before Santa had de-iced the sleigh and nibbled on his first mince pie. After a few days of solid catching up with my girlfriend, I was well and truly ready to start putting back on some of that lost weight and enjoy the sort of feasts you only get at a Christmas in England. The setting this year was not the traditional home of good ol' ma and pa, but a massive marital family get together at the home of my brother and his wife, or 'Stu' and 'Em' as most know them. The ambitious first time hosts successfully catered for, intoxicated, and endured the presense of 14 relatives, with no argumements and no furniture set ablaze by the pudding brandy ;) . The result of many of the guests bringing their own additions to the feast, was a carnival of festive gastronomy, and I was first in line for the parade. After enjoying a meal that would've stuffed a horse, and a variety of desserts to satisfy even the sweetest tooth, I accpeted the noble responsibility of consuming more booze and letting my previously malnutritioned body digest the rich offerings.

Now some people may tire of such guiltless gluttony but I set myself apart from the masses and never back down from the meals of Christmas. There are many technical considerations to be made when tackling a Christmas meal, from pacing yourself, allowing sufficient time in between courses, and keeping a continuity to repeat helpings to properly ensure that the food is never cleared before a near vomit inducing level of fullness is attained. This highly disciplined approach has successfully guided me through many festive marathons and this year was no exception - we spent Boxing Day with my Aunt, Uncle, cousins, and their respective partners. The usual oxymoronic relationship of consuming alcohol and playing mind bending games ensued after dinner, and continued until it was time for some eyelid checking.

This was the pattern for my Christmas in Blighty. I spent a lot of time catching up with my girlfriend, drank more than the doctor's orders of wine, ate far too much food, and generally was as proactive as a stoned sloth. Well, it was Christmas! God bless the little baby Christ and all his reindeer!

New Year's Eve was spent back round my bro's place and we disguised the drunken debauchery with a respectful game of gambling on horse races. Once again, it may seem that this wasn't exactly in keeping with the spirit of Christmas but alas, half the proceeds went to charity and the other half went to Stu and Em, who seemed to win every race. Someone with a suspicious mind might think that the organisers / hosts of the gambling arena had watched the races previously, but personally, I'd never entertain such a notion. The start of the New Year seemed to fly with amazing speed, although this may have been as I was having such a good time. I drank, didn't get out of bed before noon, ate too much and spent all the hours available with my girlfriend. After a couple of months of travelling, in areas as far away from home life as you can get, and eating food that a dog would scoff at, it was just what I needed. A little too good really, as it was a painful extraction when leaving again.

Cambodia - In & Out in 5 Days

Our trip to Cambodia was planned with the precision. We needed to get in and out in 5 days, and see as much of the country as possible. This was not going to be a relaxing stay.

Our flight from Ho Chi Minh City flew straight over Phnom Penh and straight onto Siem Reap in the north of the country. There were two reasons for doing this: We discovered that flights out of Phnom Penh were about a third of the cost of ones out of Siem Reap, and getting a bus across from Vietnam would take up too much of the valuable time we didn't have.

Once we arrived at the airport and were waiting to go through customs, I got chatting with a couple from the US who were heading into the centre of Siem Reap and were looking for people to share a taxi. We found a taxi with obvious ease outside the terminal building and asked for one of the guest houses recommended in the Lonely Planet. You'd think that as the taxi driver was in essense being paid by us to take us where we wanted to go, that this would be a simple procedure. But no, with the added factor of hotels paying commision to taxi drivers, this was going to prove troublesome. Our driver seemed to think that any of the places we suggested were either horrible, full up, or too far out of town. Luckily he was able to make alternative suggestions (how helpful!) , but they were going to be a little more than we were looking to pay. Of course they were. He informed us that he had lived in Siem Reap his entire life and knew all the best places to go. When we rebuted with the fact we didn't want the best, but simply cheap options, he seemed to go into a trance and not hear a single word. When confronted with the fact he was not taking us to any places we actually asked for, he suggested we get out and find our own accomodation. We tried to explain the fundamental principles of the taxi driver to client relationship, but he held onto a different notion where he was our guide. We decided to at least have a look at one of his suggestions and as we walked into the hotel reception with him being warmly greeted by the staff, we knew our suspicisions were warranted. However, the behinds of our ears were as dry as a Jimmy Carr's wit, and there was no way we were being fooled into this scam. While I maintained a ruse of ignorance with the taxi driver, Luke went on recon in search of cheaper options in the immediate area. In an attempt to both stall the driver and amuse myself, I asked him to take us to another suggestion from the LP. He regretfully informed us that he didn't know where that hotel was based. I assured him this wasn't a problem and produced a pre-prepared map with the location of said hotel clearly highlighted. He then said (despite looking at a map) that he didn't know how to get there. By this point, I couldn't help but laugh at his presented inability to read a map and at the same time his complete ignorance of hotels in the city he had lived in his entire life. Perhaps the tolerance of this shit-bag was a sub-conscious premonition which indicated the success of Luke's recon. He had found one for a third of the price and within 50 yards of where the taxi dropped us off. Result!

Over dinner, we planned how to see as many of the temples as possible in one day and then got an early night in preparation for a challengingly busy day.

With it only being 7 km to the temples, we chose to cheap it up, and hire peddle bikes for the day. Our first stop, was the group known as Ankhor Thom with the main structure being Byron. On reflection of the day, both Luke and myself said that in many ways, this structure was more impressive than Ankhor Wat. Beautiful smiling images of a god were carved into the rock surface on many levels and sides of the structure. These admiring faces looked down on you where ever you are in the structure and made the area seem very welcoming. It is said that the faces also resemble the ruler of this period which may have been a way of him looking over his people. With all the smiling faces, it was like an ancient acid house party, minus the hallucinogenic drugs and pumping base lines.


After a slight detour through not knowing where we were going (some slight misreading of a temple name, by Luke ;) ), I ended up visiting the hill-top temple, which gives a panoramic view of whole area and in the words of the guide book, "a unique view of Ankhor Wat." Surely one could argue that in a way, every single location in view of Ankhor Wat gives an unique view, but nevertheless, it was worth the climb. So much so, that around 1000 people make it to the top to view the sunset every evening. I was not one of these people; the prospect of being in such a remote and beautiful country surrounded by 1000 tourists was about as appealing as a summer holiday in Scunthorpe.

Next we moved onto Ta Prohm which was used in the Tomb Raider movie and only noticed by the female viewers that were not transfixed by the impressive structure of Angelina Jolie. This temple is special in the fact that it has not been restored yet and for that reason has a Indiana Jones feel to it. With the roots of trees trailing across sections, over ramparts and down walls, it appears as though the gods have poored molten wax from the heavens onto select parts of the temple and the liquid has cooled upon touching the stone.

We then continued our cycle tour of the area and headed round to the entrance to Ankhor Wat which took us around the border of the complex. Ankhor Wat was unsurprisingly busy, with few pictures opportunities available that were not filled with gormless tourists. The site is extremely impressive for the height of the towers, and the size of the area is covers - including massive gardens, and a gigantic surrounding moat.

The pinacle of the visit to Ankgor Wat is the dangerous climb up thin and deteriorated steps leading to the central area. With only hand rails on one side of this section, massive cues develop with only the brave and the stupid risking the descent on steps without the rail. You can decide which category Luke and I, fall into of those who chose this route.

With the sun setting in the distance we called it a day and hopped back on the cycles to make the journey back to our hotel. Braving rush hour traffic and a further 7km (we'd already covered about 27km at this point), we made it back to the hotel without incident and booked our bus ticket to Phnom Penh. A bus ticket from Siem Reap to Pheno Penh cost $4. A ticket from Phnom Penh to Siem Reap costs $26. The benefits of flying into Siem Reap were becoming more and more obvious.

We arrived at Phnom Penh in the early afternoon and immediately took a taxi to the shooting range (the city doesn't have many attractions). This is located in the same area as the Killing Fields and I'm willing to bet is very rarely the 2nd stop for visitors. The shooting range had various pistols, machine guns, assault rifles, grenades, and anti-aircraft guns to choose from, but we selected the ever trusty AK47 (as favoured by terrorists worldwide), and a Chinese handgun, the CZ75. From watching the bullets be put into the gun, to placing the earmuffs on, and hearing the first shot, I don't think I took a breath. The lethal potential became far more visceral than a million films could ever portray. The resounding bang of each shot hammered this point home every time I fired the trigger. After we both fired our rounds from each weapon, we inspected the target, and were pleased with our success rate (kill rate – pride overcame feeling bad at this point). The attending guard was also impressed at our accuracy and agreed that this wasn't necessarily good thing.

After spending the most amount of money in such a small time for a few weeks (about $63 between us), we headed over to the Killing Fields. I didn't really know a lot about this area. I knew it was the site of heinous war crimes committed by the country’s leader Pol Pot, but had little understanding of the atrocities actually committed here. We paid for a guide on arrival and he took us around the 86 excavated graves and told us about the victims which once occupied them. I won't go into the detail that he did about how some of them were killed and about the cruel manner in which everyone was treated, but will say, it saddened my soul. When confronted with the actual site of such evilness, you look for explanations for how people could act in such ways. How were the soldiers brainwashed into carrying out such crimes? How did they justify it to themselves every night?

Driving back into town, I was glad that we had visited the shooting range first as truly believe I wouldn't have gone there at any point in Cambodia after seeing the Killing Fields. The act of firing these ‘cool’ weapons seemed less appealing than ever after what we had been told about the recent history of Cambodia and realisation that these weapons probably played a part.

We spent the next and final day in Cambodia by looking around the historic sites of Phnom Penh such as the Royal Palace, the Silver Pagoda and the main market. Everywhere you walk in this city you are reminded of it's troubled past by the site of landmine victims and homeless people. The country has now enjoyed 4 democratic elections and on the surface appears to be recovering well and working towards a brighter future. Many believe that this is a deceptive veneer and the corruption is only a scratch away. I don't know about anything of this, but will say I liked Cambodia and would definitely visit again. The country has great periods of history which produced amongst other things, the largest religious structure in the world. It possesses a proud nation of people who are trying to recover from all too recent and close atrocities committed by Pol Pot’s regime. Corruption may be rife in politics but that is no indication of the intentions of the majority. In one respect I hope that Cambodia develops well and recovers from this terrible period, but at the same time, I hope that in doing so it does not lose it’s character in becoming just another cheap playground for western adventurers.