Cambodia

Sod coming here in the rainy season without a pair of wellies. One afternoon of rain in the dry months and the roads have already flooded. And in a part of the world where footpaths are abused as extensions of shop displays, and where the gutters aren't clean at the best of times, it's definitely a bad day to be wearing my Dunlops with the holes in them.

The rain actually suits Phnom Penh very well. It was one of the central areas for Pol Pot's Khmer Rouge Regime in Cambodia and is therefore home to mostly quite depressing things to do. The first stop, travelling with a fellow guest at my hostel, was The Killing Fields. I won't go in to too many details, but this is the site of nearly two hundred mass graves containing men, women and children from Cambodian, Vietnamese, Chinese and European backgrounds. Unexcavated bones can still be seen protruding from the earth. Simply being there is enough to send a shiver up the spine.

After The Killing Fields we visited S-21, a former secondary school turned torture-chamber and prison camp turned museum of genocide. Again, for your benefit, I'd rather not be too graphic in my descriptions. All I can say is that while the Nazis may have been coldly efficient in their methods of extermination, the Khmer Rouge were certainly more inventive and gruesome. I think the comparison is fair. Both regimes aspired to radically 'purify' the societies they led through mass murder, and were fuelled by hatred and paranoia. The biggest difference to me is that I've known about what Hitler did since I was about 11. I've known about what Pol Pot did since about this morning. Shocking too, is that many of those who worked for the regime have been accepted back in to the current Cambodian government, and worse still, none of the Cambodians seem to mind.

Not that Cambodia doesn't seem to be picking itself up off the ground. Before Phnom Penh I was in Siem Reap, a small city that acts as the gateway to the Angkor temples, and a vibrant, fun-loving place it is too. Obviously it's overrun with tourists, but who cares, it's brilliant and has it all. Markets, cheap food, bars, good accommodation and even a place for me to update my iPod. In my very easy-going and lovely hostel I first met Brad and Wayne, who I agreed to visit the temples with the next day, and then my room mates, who I went for dinner with that evening. Later they gave me the nickname of '50 Cent' for a reason I can't remember, but it definitely wasn't because we look alike.

Brad, Australian, and Wayne, Canadian, did an excellent job of forming some kind of plan for the temples, myself having no more knowledge about the place other than seeing a picture a while ago and thinking 'oh that looks nice'. We visited, I think, a total of five temples during the day, all generously spread out across a vast region of land. Most interesting I thought, were the face towers of Bayon, and Ta Prohm, where the roots of large trees have claimed much of the architecture for themselves. And then Angkor Wat itself, a work of genius given that it was built only in the 12th century. In the evening we were joined by a Dutch girl called Susan and we all went to a bar called Angkor What? for a few pints, four shots, and a bucket of gin and tonic.

Brad, a largely gentle and left-leaning man - politically I mean, not literally - had something of a strange and uncontrollable urge to go and shoot something. With a real gun. And so he had an idea that we all head off to a shooting range the next day to give it a go. This was a relief, as I was worried he wouldn't be able to wait til morning. The idea came in to fruition as all four of us piled in to a tuk tuk and travelled ten miles to a military area with our hangovers in tow. To be honest, the night before in the bar I'd been pretty up for the activity, but when we arrived I felt extremely uncomfortable. It was not a shooting range that you might imagine, with nice clean cubicles and small handguns, but quite a dirty affair. The guns hung up on a wall, and they were all very large and very powerful. And old. I assume, and I'm very sure I'm not wrong, that the guns had fulfilled the purpose for what they were engineered. Tell me I'm not a man if you like, but I was quite happy just to watch.

Wayne and Brad chose two guns to shoot with, sharing the rounds on each. An AK-47, a favourite, I hear, with the Taliban and Cypress Hill, and an M16. I don't know what that stands for, but it's a very big gun. Wayne went first, and was apparently very nervous. Next was Brad, whose aim was a bit wonky sometimes, but thankfully we all survived. You can certainly see how those things kill people, but I do wonder how they don't make the user deaf. Within a few minutes all the ammunition was used up, and with Brad happy, we headed back in to town to shop and to take a dip in the hostel's swimming pool. The next day was spent in a similarly chilled-out fashion, even fitting in some time to watch a bit of telly. In the evening we had more drinks. One bar we found was high up - about three storeys. Looking over the balcony to the street below we caught the eye of a taxi driver. We waved, he waved back and then did the hand signal for 'tuk tuk?' and laughed. We decided that guy was pretty cool, so called him up for a beer, and sat with him as we talked about Cambodia and our parts of the world.

I go back to Siem Reap tomorrow, on my way to resume my trip to Singapore. Cambodia was a great place to visit, particularly as it wasn't planned. I also flirted with the idea of crossing over to Vietnam, but as it is I will already have to eat in to some of my time in India, and I'd rather not eat any more. Next stop Bangkok, then Trang, then finally, behind schedule, Kuala Lumpur.

Not sticking to the plan

I arrived in Phi Phi relatively early, and relatively hassle-free. The minibus to the ferry picked me up on time, and the ferry itself was very comfortable. I could see that a man boarding the minibus had a guitar on him, but his face was obscured by a window frame. Being a bit of a grump in the morning, the first thing I thought was "oh no, a twat with a guitar. I bet he's got dreadlocks". But as he entered the vehicle his face came in to view and it turned out he actually looked like Mr. Bean, which I found more acceptable. Later, the ferry was playing a number of episodes of Mr. Bean, and for a moment I thought that television was mingling with reality as the guitar-playing Mr. Bean strolled in front of the screen.

So anyway, I got to Phi Phi and checked in to my room at the 'Gypsy Village'. Trust me, I didn't book it based on the name. Nor did I book it based on the colour scheme. I say 'scheme', it was really just 'pink'. The outside walls were pink. So were the inside ones. As was the bedding, including a delightful satin sheet. I've got nothing against pink, but it's definitely one of those colours that requires moderation in it's use.

Happy that I'd got myself another high value place to stay, I stepped out in to Phi Phi to see what it was all about. Being one of Thailand's most beautiful spots, the place was very busy and lined with shops, bars and tourist agencies. However, it has a real laid back tropical feeling to it, and there are no real roads, just dusty walkways meandering around the various establishments. Soon though, the dust turned in to mud as the skies gave it their all, and the heaviest rain I'd seen for weeks hit the island.

While all this had been happening, Debbie, who I'd left previously in Ko Samui, was due to leave for home in a few days and was feeling a bit 'over' all this Thailand stuff. She wanted to go somewhere a bit quieter and less touristy, so it probably sounds a bit mental when I say that she decided to come and join me in Phi Phi. A rough itinerary I'd mentioned, which involved Ko Lanta and the Trang Islands, seemed to take her fancy, so essentially she was joining me for that, but Phi Phi seemed as good a place as any to meet. Besides, she hadn't actually stayed on Phi Phi, she'd merely done a tour around it, so this was a good opportunity to see it properly. Really then, mental it was not, perfect sense it made, and I was very happy to have her with me for a few days. It stopped raining just in time for me to meet her off the boat from Krabi, and after she'd got settled we went for a meal and a few drinks. A highlight was a rooftop bar that served cocktails, and for some reason, probably to look cool, I ordered a classic vodka Martini. It was bloody horrible. Later we went to the beach where they were having what looked like a very rubbish full moon party.

Phi Phi has two main islands, Ko Phi Phi Don, where we were staying, and Ko Phi Phi Leh which is uninhabited and has nowhere to stay unless you do a special camping tour. Ko Phi Phi Leh, then, can really only be viewed through a day trip, so that's exactly what I went to do. I took a long tail boat tour, because I felt it was more 'Thailandy' and met some excellent people from Watford, Germany and Canada. First we chilled out on a very nice beach, then on to 'Monkey Bay', where you can see a bunch of monkeys sitting on the rocks on another very nice beach, and then in to a sort-of lagoon area where we did some snorkelling. I've no idea where these places were, as our guide wasn't much of a guide and usually we had to guess for ourselves. Eventually we reached an area that didn't need his services anyway - Maya Bay, or 'DiCaprio Beach' as some now call it - was instantly recognisable. A bit of me was a tad disappointed that we just sailed right up to it. I think I was expecting to have to climb through jungle and jump off a 10 metre waterfall to reach it. 'The perfect beach' is much smaller than you imagine, and not especially jaw dropping. You wonder at first why the producers of The Beach chose it to feature in the film. But then they probably saw it without it being smothered in tourists and without boats pushed up all along the shore. We rode back to Phi Phi Don as the sun was setting, and I caught up with Debbie who had done her own thing during the day.

It was raining heavily again the next day, and this nearly stopped us from making the most of our last day in Phi Phi. However, we ventured out, got some breakfast and formulated a plan, which was to walk inland and up to reach the viewpoints that give you good places to take photographs of the island. We felt lost for a while, and it was tiring, but once we were there it seemed worth it. From a position high up you can see how Ko Phi Phi Don got so badly effected by the 2004 tsunami - the most built up area sits at the thinnest part of the island, with the beaches on each side just minutes from each other. Instead of going back the way we came, we trekked through jungle on a sort-of a pathway until we came across a new beach, one less busy with tourists, but with a decent little bar and a chilled out atmosphere. We decided we'd made the most of what started out as a miserable looking day.

With Phi Phi done and dusted, it was time to take on a new mission - Debbie's visa was due to run out before her flight from Bangkok, and mine shortly after hers. Luckily, all you need to do to extend your Thai visa is to hop over a border and back again. Simple. So we got a bus down to Hat Yai, the deep south of Thailand, and stayed there for the night. There was something maybe a bit scary, but mostly quite nice, about being in a part of Thailand that has almost no interest to tourists at all, because likewise, they had no real interest in us. We got to see what Thai people really shop for, and how they really speak. The area has a higher number of muslims than the rest of Thailand too, so Debbie had to be careful how she dressed.

Early in the morning we got up and caught a bus down to the border with Malaysia. I felt a bit embarrassed going through the gates to leave, knowing that I'd be back again in a minute. To be honest, we got completely confused and wandered about aimlessly for probably about half an hour. I felt a bit sorry for Malaysia - it seemed impolite not to stick around at least for a cup of tea.We returned to Hat Yai just in time for lunch - the whole thing took about five hours, but went very smoothly. We would now base ourselves in Trang so we could finally go and see the Trang Islands the next day. This turned out to be a real highlight of Thailand. The snorkelling was excellent, even better than the Great Barrier Reef I would say, but the real gem (sorry) was the Emerald Cave. Led through a pitch-black cave in the sea, you eventually come to a small cove containing a beach buffed by stunning green water and surrounded by cliffs.

The tour was a great way to cap mine and Debbie's time together - that evening she caught a train to Bangkok so she could get her flight back to London. I went ahead with the plan and booked a ticket to Ko Lanta. I'm thinking though, perhaps I shouldn't have done. Perhaps Thailand should've stopped for me on that day in the Trang Islands. Not that there's anything wrong with Ko Lanta - it's all right. But it really only offers everything I've already seen. However, I have two whole weeks until my flight to India, and I'm pretty sure that would be too much time in Kuala Lumpur and Singapore. So I'm going rogue. Tomorrow I head back to Bangkok, and then I'm going off the itinerary with a little trip to Cambodia.

Happy 2553!

When I was 17 I wanted nothing more than to be in a field full of people, all dancing away to very loud, repetitive music and not stopping until the sun came up, or the drugs had worn off. I wished it were 1988, or 1992, or some other time when things like that happened quite regularly.

These days such things are much lower on my list of priorities, much, much lower, but this didn't stop me enjoying what was probably the closest thing I've come to those hankerings on new years eve. For those who don't know, a Full Moon Party is celebrated at every full moon (obviously), involves a lot of fire and fluorescent body paint, and alcohol is served very literally by the bucket load. A variety of music is played, but most of it goes bang bang bang bang. Since the 90s they've been occurring all over the world, but the first one was thrown right where I was, on a beach in Ko Pha Ngan.

Before I could delve in though, there were things to attend to. I'd agreed to meet Debbie, who I'd met previously in Bangkok, and I'd agreed to meet Arnaud, the French guy who I'd met in my first week of travelling in New York. I arrived at Debbie's hostel, and as it turned out there'd been something of a cock-up with the booking. The manager of the place, probably one of the people who really did dance around to shit music in fields in 1988, books rooms from above an Israeli restaurant when it gets really busy. The trouble is, the Israeli men decided those rooms would better accommodate their friends, so when Debbie and the manager went to check it out, there was apparently some attack involving big sticks. So Debbie had no room. The place looked dodgy anyway, as you can imagine. I was staying in Ko Samui, a neighbouring island which is nice and quiet. I had a spare bed in my bungalow, so I offered to take her in, so long as we could blag her on to a ferry. Crisis over.

The next stop was to find Arnaud. We did, surprisingly easily. The night, apart from Debbie's hiccup, was turning out to be a breeze. Arnaud had brought with him a friend he'd met on his travels called Jean Christoph, another Frenchman with a beard and an excellent hat. Me and Arnaud caught up for a bit as we strolled by some of the things you might witness at a Full Moon Party: a beach lined with bars and stages, each with it's own DJ; men skipping double-dutch over blazing ropes until they catch their feet and bail; and people weeing in the sea - it seems there was a reason that I found the Gulf of Thailand so warm. We got more drinks in. Served in small plastic buckets, you mix and match spirits and mixers to your desire. Most of the cocktails contain Red Bull, which over here seems to have something of methamphetamine about it.

For something that officially calls itself 'The Countdown Party' there was very much a lack of countdown. We'd lost track of time, and we'd lost track of Arnaud, too. We stood waiting for him to catch us up, and then Debbie went to use a convenience (a proper one, not the sea). Suddenly there were fireworks and a couple of cheers. But more than cheers there were bemused faces that said 'is it midnight?' My watch made it three minutes to twelve, which I decided was close enough, so me and Jean Christoph shook hands, wished each other a happy new year, then sort of stood there awkwardly as we waited for the other two to return. Debbie was somewhat irritated that she'd been in a queue for the bathroom when the big moment came. Really though, it wasn't such a big moment. The party had been going on for days before, and would continue, no doubt, for days after. On a timescale like that, that moment was as small as all the others.

By 4am myself and Debbie decided we were tired and should head off. She'd done well. A whole day spent crossing Thailand from Krabi by bus, then finding her accommodation was cancelled. If I were her I'd have given up a lot sooner. All we had to do was get back to Ko Samui. This wasn't the easiest part of the day. The pier was badly organised, too many people for too few boats. A crowd of us gathered and crushed together as we all so urgently needed to get home. When the pushing started, we got out, and waited for the crowd to clear. It didn't, and instead we got an expensive long boat across the sea, but it was worth it just to get to bed. We arrived at 7am.

The next day was excellent. We slept in until about 4pm, then had some lovely food in Fisherman's Village overlooking the sea, then in the evening some chilled out cocktails and beers on the beach. I really enjoyed Debbie's company too, even if she is from Essex. The day after though I left her in Samui to go to Phuket. This was a relatively stressful road journey that involved a lot of waiting and transferring from bus to bus. At one point, a girl who'd had her money stolen was shouted at by the bus driver and nearly manhandled out of the vehicle. She spent the rest of the journey sobbing and the atmosphere was bleak. Upon arrival in Patong, the busiest area of Phuket, the driver dropped me in the wrong spot and I spent extra money getting to my guesthouse. It was all worth it though. I had the first hot shower I'd had in weeks, made myself a cup of tea, and joined the other guests for watching a couple of movies in the front room.

Patong is probably one of the most Westernised areas of Thailand I've seen. Among all the McDonalds and Starbucks there's also a huge shopping mall that seems quite extravagant. It sort of says 'we can build huge temples of capitalism, too'. One menu display for a restaurant I saw had written, in huge letters, 'yes we can' - surely appealing to those who've taken a liking to America's cool new president. The life of Patong revolves around an area called Bangla Road, which seems to have borrowed it's colour scheme from Memphis and upped the sleeze to 11. Very convincing ladyboys are out on patrol, promoting the various cabarets in the city, and strip clubs are alarmingly viewable to passersby on the street. Although I liked the look of some of the bars, I decided not to sample any of the nightlife and instead decided it was enough just to have seen it.

Phuket is a good spot for hopping to other, more attractive, islands and I took advantage of this by taking a snorkelling tour of the Similan archipelago. Getting there took about an hour and a half by speed boat, and I appeared to be the only person whose first language was English. I seem to remember my sister having a similar experience when touring some islands in Thailand. It didn't bother me too much on this occassion though. The water around the Similans was sublime. So clear, with just the right amount of surf and a variety of marine life to look at through the goggles. Later we took to shore to relax on the sand and climb the fascinating rock formations. You know when you're bored on Brighton beach and you try and see how many pebbles you can get to stand on top of each other? Well on Ko Similan, it looks like God's been bored on a really nice beach.

Today I left Phuket and made my way to Phi Phi, where I'll spend the next few days. I hear it has the nicest beach in the world, even better than Camber Sands. Might explain why it's so busy here and why my accommodation is rubbish. My time in Thailand is short now, and I'll be squeezing as much out of it as I can in the next week.