Tissues at the ready

So we've been in Phnom Penh for a couple of days now, I've been a bit behind with my blogging as we didn't have free wifi in Siem Reap so I only managed to post once. It's also hard to find the time on a group trip where you seem to have so little time to yourself to do anything. Time flies when you're having fun as they say!

We had a long bus journey from Siem Reap but it was good to have a day off the cycling and we'd all been out till the early hours at a Cambodian nightclub the night before so plenty of sleep to catch up on. Lots of podium dancing to keep the thighs in good working order for cycling too. It was a very amusing night but I must admit I felt knackered the next day.

We visited spider village on the way to Phnom Penh but I missed the whole sampling tarantulas as I was desperate for the loo after a couple of hours with no stop. We browsed but I failed to consume. According to reports I didn't miss much on the taste front.

As soon as we arrived in the city there was an obvious difference, much larger and busier being the capital city. We visited the Royal Palace in the afternoon and learnt more about how Pol Pot grew up as a young boy around the place with his two sisters being the King's concubines and his brother also working there. That's how, despite coming from a poor family, he came to be educated in France and had an influential position from a young age over the powers that be.

It was a fairly quiet night out on our first night here after the excesses of the night before. This morning we visited other local tourist attractions, the most prominent being Toul Sleng prison and the killing fields. I knew it was going to be a day for the tissues when I felt overly emotional at breakfast. I managed to last quite well at the prison until seeing all the photos of the people that were housed, tortured and slaughtered, such innocent faces staring back at you with no idea what fate lay ahead. It was a very sobering experience, as it should be, but I had to leave for a few moments to compose myself when I read some of the biographies of the seven survivors.

I bought a book and had my photo taken with one of the last remaining survivors of the prison, which at the time seemed horribly commercial but I think upon reading the book I'll feel touched that I met such a brave and gracious man. He lost his wife at the tender age of 28 at the prison and still carries a photo of her in his wallet.

Maybe I'd hardened myself by the time we reached the killing fields or maybe it was harder to relate to the mass graves dug up with only photos to really show the full horror of what lay beneath. There are still some graves left untouched to this day, which was hard to comprehend when you're just looking at the bare earth.

It's hard to understand how any human being can be so devoid of conscience and humility that they can sanction smashing babies heads against trees and think that's an acceptable way to conduct themselves and no words can really explain how you feel upon hearing that. I can't do it justice here at all, it just beggars belief but that is what happened. Duch, one of the remaining Khmer Rouge, was finally convicted of genocide in 2010 for 35 years in prison by an international court, but that doesn't even seem to begin to atone for the past.

We had another free afternoon so got dropped off at the Russian market (so-called because they sponsor it) and  had one of the best lunches at L'Artisan restaurant. A delicious passion fruit juice, pineapple and pork with rice dish and rounded off with a banana, chocolate and vanilla ice cream crepe. Natalie and I then walked all the way back to the hotel which took us through some grimy back streets but gave us a real flavour of the city. It is a fascinating place!

It was our final night in Cambodia so we said farewell to our local guide, Mr T, which produced a fairly humorous moment. Greg had to give a thank you speech and give him the tip that we'd collected, which Mr T was suitably grateful for. He made a joke that Greg was looking more handsome that evening as a result. Later on he came over to our table to hurry us up with paying our bill and moving on to a local nightclub. He made a comment, as I was sitting next to Greg, that maybe he was waiting for me Greg that is) to be more beautiful before he moved on. At which point I realised that was actually a bit of an insult and chastised him for being so rude. I think he'd had a few too many beers but it was fun to make digging-himself-out-of-a-hole actions to tease him.

We move on to Vietnam tomorrow and get back on the bikes. I've quite missed it over the last couple of days...