Tramping tales for the First quarter of 2020

Summer heat reminded us of the many weeks that lay ahead before we could begin our meandering northwards. February too, brought a notable date in our lives that willed us to celebrate life.  Vietnam caught our fancy and, as 2020 ticked in, we emailed our very trusty Travel Manager Lesley. Instantly, her ideas returned and while poring over these, an insignificant advert in the margins for a boat trip along the Mekong caught our fancy.  The mid-February dates a perfect omen.  Passport renewals and fully booked cruise conspired against us – we retreated from the idea. A week later Lesley came back to us with a cabin cancellation on the same cruise for the end of February – first with full payment would get it. Our passports would be back and without further thought – we coughed up!

A thirty-six hour wait before we knew of our success. ‘The Jayavarman’ would cover the Khmer Rouge story in Cambodia. We also wanted some Vietnam War history; we booked two extra days on either end of our tour 28 February – 9 March.  In Lesley’s inimitable way- our flights were speedily booked.  Inklings of a ‘Wuhan Virus’ really began to circulate by mid-January. We buried ourselves in binge-watching over fifteen hours of Netflix, their documentary - The Vietnam War, while the family were on a weekend away.  On the 23 January, draconian measures were taken overnight to totally lock-down a Chinese province and its capital city Wuhan. A peak travel time for Chinese New Year. We gasped!  Next to catch our attention - Japanese authorities quarantined thousands of passengers to their cabins for two weeks, on a cruise ship ‘Diamond Princess’ docked in Tokyo.  We looked at each other, as possible implications stormed our brains. 

“The era when humankind stood helpless before natural epidemics is probably over …” wrote Yuval Noah Harari in his latest book Homo Deus, where he proclaims ‘’biotechnology has enabled us to defeat bacteria and viruses’’. By the time we took off, en route to Vietnam, 80 000 people in 37 countries had been infected and 2 700 had died. The virus had spread from the Wuhan province in China (the epicentre of the outbreak) to South Korea, Japan and Europe. The World Health Authority warned of pandemic proportions.  We constantly checked the Australian Smart Traveller site and weighed up options. Brother-in-law Chris Jones left for Vietnam on the 7 February and he hadn’t sent us a warning message. As we have no underlying health issues – we went to buy antiseptic wipes and hand sanitisers, to find empty shelves! Saxon refilled handy travel packs she had in the house for her children – we were prepared!

We braced ourselves, taking a leaf out of Justy’s last year of life when her neutropenia was so severe yet out, she went into the world.  The daily tally of victims down with coronavirus or dead in China began to ferment the worst of humanity.  Despite our qualms, we were glad to escape the ridiculous notions circulating. We moved our rig to the storage site of Advent Park and three hours before midnight on 25 February our daughter dropped us at the airport.

Flying Air Singapore, we boarded a plane of masked faces and muffled voices. The new reality had us feeling unnecessarily gung-ho, going barefaced! Medical staff manned computers and scanned travellers for any signs of being unwell while cameras took temperatures. Behind this cluster, sat two-armed security guards at the ready.   With a couple of hours to kill before our flight to Ho Chi Minh City we grabbed a cup of coffee. George promptly fell asleep on the transit lounge floor.

We arrived in Saigon, now Ho Chi Ming City, just before 11am and with our visas ready - we were through in no time to find our pre-ordered taxi through Booking.com waiting to take us to New Saigon Hostel in Bui Vien Walking Street – in District 1 of Ho Chi Minh City. When Lesley had requested the names of the hotel we’d go to, on our tour – it was still unknown. The price the tour group quoted for two extra nights on either end had seemed exorbitant. Lea booked budget accommodation over the internet and immediately received welcome messages with offers of help.  New Saigon Hostel obliged with an early check-in. It turned out to be a narrow building – typically Vietnamese, with a lift to each floor of two rooms. We were on the 6^th floor on the quiet side. A very clean and cheerful room with its contrasting red and white checked duvet with a blue check turn-over; a fridge, a TV and air-con. A hand-held shower discharged directly onto the bathroom floor took us aback, but it worked well and the floor dried quickly. There was no safe in which to secure our passports but our man at the desk willingly put our valuables in a locked drawer with their cash! Nonetheless, for the princely sum of $30 a night the place suited us perfectly.  We collapsed and slept for a couple of hours before taking to the streets of our immediate surrounds – cautiously threading our way along uneven pavements full of scooters and people, avoiding the litter in the gutters. A warning about scooter robbers, had us firmly clutch bag or camera to the front of our chests. Traffic was horrific - disorderly movement in every direction. Totally contrary to Australian road rules, Lea’s nerve rose tenfold at what appeared mayhem. In time, we recognised an order to this congestion; learnt to take a deep breath and move firmly as cars, bikes and people swirled around each other in dances they were very adept and accustomed to.

  

Our bedroom and our view from 6^th floor, New Saigon Hostel  

Back at the hostel we had to become accustomed to leaving our shoes at the front door.  The old lady selling coconuts and squeezed orange juice at the entrance always made us feel most welcome.

The walking street outside our hostel front door

Little side streets were quieter and decorative  giving us time to peer into shops and the many eateries.

  

Towards evening, armed with 677 000 Vietnamese dongs (the equivalent of US$30!) we ventured back onto the street for a meal. We chose Boho, a 100m from the hostel where, watching the endless stream of scooters passing by, we had a meal washed down by a couple of local beers (bias), and turned-in for the night knowing an early start to a busy day followed.

Day 2 – 27 February 2020

We chose a quick breakfast (a large crusty Vietnamese bread roll and strawberry jam) served in a tiny kitchen/ dining area below ground and were ready to be collected outside the front door by Kim Travel.  Again, booked through Trip Advisor, we encountered a very smooth and professional organization.  A speed boat up the Saigon river for a tour of the Cu Chi Tunnels. Our ‘small group’ tour guide, Khanh (Independence), had four out of a possible 16 of us under his care today – the first of many indications that the coronavirus was affecting tourist trade. Over the next hour we sped up the Saigon river dodging rafts of water hyacinth at high speed, stopping on more than one occasion to clear the prop of plastic and weed, and watching enormous barges chugging by, carrying building material, mainly sand and crushed stone to various upstream construction sites.

    

Sixty km upstream we came to the site of the Cu Chi Tunnels, the intriguing 250km labyrinth of handmade underground tunnels and combat trenches dug by the Viet Cong during its war against the might of the United States Army (1965 – 1972). Understandably the tunnels are a source of great pride to the Cambodian people. Khanh’s grandfather was killed in the war and he was particularly well informed.

He took us to see the manner in which the tunnel entrances were concealed on the floor of the jungle; the holes made for ventilation (often at the base of termite mounds); how pepper and chilli powder was used to confuse the tracker dogs brought in to find the Viet Cong; a numerous variety of spiked traps hidden on the forest floor gave rise to enormous inner fear within American GIs.  Nightmarish for any person moving through the jungle; the workshops used to manufacture the black pyjama uniform and recycled tyre sandals known as Ho Chi Minh’s reminded us of Zimbabwean Manyatella. Intriguingly, some were made back to front to give the impression the wearer was walking in the opposite direction;  Guerrilla warfare at its best Viet Cong were able to cook food without the smoke of the fires giving them away; and we were given some tapioca to try - the staple diet of the Viet Cong soldiers. Underground workshops using salvaged steel demonstrated an incredible ingenuity of recycling whatever the Americans discarded – whether expended bombs to plane wreckages and more. Soil removed from the tunnels was disposed of creatively by womenfolk. We entered the tunnel – within a few minutes Lea backtracked, aware the stooped pressure on her back and knee was too great to continue and was fortunately able to return to the surface. George managed to crawl on hands and knees along 20m of one of the tunnels before he emerged puffing and panting.  What it was like when B52 bombers were dropping load after load of bombs in this area is beyond imagination.   

    

  A well concealed entry to a tunnel

    

                                                                                         

Termite mound allowing air flow down in the tunnel.

Back to front tyre sandals 

Momentarily unnerving out in the jungle was the noise of AK47s until it was explained tourists could try their hand at the shooting range. Obviously incredibly popular!  Once back at the riverside with a cool breeze blowing we sat with our two fellow Singaporeans to enjoy lunch of sticky rice with a wide selection  of dishes generously set in the middle of the table that included spring rolls and spicy vegetable soup provided by the restaurant as part of our tour.  After lunch we had time to relax or explore further. We went up to the visitor centre museum until our return trip – leaving Cu Chi Tunnels by bus – our choice; to see more which proved to be a rather uninteresting trip through scruffy, heavily trafficked industrial areas on the outskirts of Saigon. We had asked Khanh whether it was possible to be dropped off in the vicinity of the War Remnants Museum. He arranged that with his colleague doing the Kim Travel bus run and both considerately ensured our well-being on the bus. By 3.00 pm we were outside the gates having our temperature taken before admittance.

We were young folk caught up in Rhodesia's UDI; new jobs; becoming a married couple in Kariba, Rhodesia. We led a happy life as babies came along and we were almost oblivious the Vietnam War (1965-1973) on another side of the world. Mere fragments penetrated our minds – mostly iconic photographs. Later, films painted their patriotic American perspective and increased our knowledge.

The Museum, with an impressive series of galleries  dealt with all aspects; the worldwide resistance that developed to US aggression; War Crimes committed upon Vietnamese people (the bombing of innocent people’s homes, villages, hospitals and schools, not to mention the tortures and massacres that took place); the consequences of the defoliant dioxin (aka as Agent Orange) sprayed over the jungle creating the most ghastly of deformities amongst adults and children alike; and images taken by war correspondents (from 11 different nations) during the course of the war.

We hadn’t known the anti-war feeling was relatively widespread among the American population at the time – thus it was an eye-opener to see a cross section of just how many Americans spoke out against the travesties of the Vietnam War, at that time.  To see the likes of serving Senator John McCain (1936-2018) and Senator John Kerry figure there was incredibly heartening. Our awareness back then had amounted to ‘the cowards’ who fled to Canada to avoid conscription. More especially, the traitor ‘Hanoi Jane’ whose actions in visiting North Vietnam earned her the wrath of many Americans. Jane Fonda, a beautiful and talented film star became most notorious for something she didn’t do in Vietnam than all the things she did do.  Such is the divisive nature of Politics and War.   

                                                                 

As we walked these galleries, we realised that despite all the evidence – no one learns from history.  Presently, America continues to make money from war in Afghanistan, Iran, Iraq and Syria. Probably making cannon fodder of its expendable low-grade combatants too. Long drawn out years that cause untold horror and hardships for innocent people; fleeing refugees the world does not want and shuts out in no man’s land. Worse, Loyal Allies back the American Superpower.

“It reminds us how carelessly major powers disregard the human consequences of their actions in favour of some narrowly defined domestic or foreign policy interest” – Christopher Hudson ‘The Killing Fields’

Kudos to those Americans with conscience that returned to Vietnam after the war and tried to make reparation in so many ways.  Could this be the difference that allows us to walk this land without feeling any aggression or bitterness?

What took place during the Vietnam War from many perspectives is written up for all to find - we can say here, in this place, is – This war deprived the Vietnamese people of their right to live, their liberty and pursuit of happiness. Approximately 3 million people were killed (two thirds of whom were innocent); approximately 2 million were wounded and some 300 000 people are still missing. All for nothing. We watched a 4^th generation child, poisoned by dioxin, without arms and tiny deformed legs drawing with a pencil strapped to his foot, then attempting to chip carve what he had drawn, and colour the carving before framing it. Another couple – mere children during the war had given birth to three disabled sons. Such is the aftermath of a needless war –

 “To initiate a war of aggression is not only an international crime, differing only from other war crimes in that it contains within itself the accumulated evils of the whole”.

To us, Fear of Communism overrunning the world has stalked our lives. The threat of a ‘Red’ under the bed has forever hovered.

By 5.00, footsore, weary and visually overloaded it was time to head home.  We knew we were within decent walking distance of our specifically chosen hotel but without the map, left in our room – we were at a loss. We had been warned of dodgy operators and told to use reputable taxis that were metered!  Immediately outside the gate, a driver of a smart white taxi leapt to attention and assured George of a meter and very caringly warned him to tuck his camera safely away. The driver, clad in a black face mask, appeared to take a rather circuitous route claiming that at this time in the city, certain roads were one-way routes.  The meter steadily ticked up thousands of dongs and George became increasingly worried his fund of dongs. Unexpectedly, the driver pulled to the side of the road and told us he was unable to go down our particular street, at this time. We were faced with a charge of 140 000 dong! Not having enough local currency George handed over a US$20 note (400 000 dong) only to be asked if he had anything smaller. George found five one dollar bills and 50 000 dongs. In the embarrassment and confusion, George was unaware the $20 bill had been quickly pocketed. It was a dreadful end to our day, leaving us bemused and shell shocked that we began walking in the wrong direction.  We felt infuriated that we had behaved like old, doddery soft targets in a strange city.  By the time we turned back and arrived at our abode, Lea had become paranoid. She preferred to forego dinner on the streets than use our credit card. There was just enough money to buy a bottle of water!     

Day 3 – 28 February 2020

We slept in, having decided that yesterday’s incident had somewhat scarred us and left us reluctant to return for more time at the Remnants Museum. Over breakfast, George was convinced the margarine had teeth marks of a mouse! As we departed a cockroach scuttled across the floor and humour gave rise to a better day! George popped around the corner to the bank and returned with dong. Today we would book out of our hostel by midday and take a taxi to Edenstar Hotel – where our On the Go Tour began.  Check in time between 2-3pm. 

With hours in hand, we made our way to the Ben Thang market that lay a few blocks away.  A group of GRAB motorbikes in their distinctive green uniform warned us that we were too early for the market, so we returned to a park bench to watch the world go by. George made the mistake of asking a shoe cleaner for directions. He promptly dropped to George’s feet to examine his sandals and began to repair a crack he could see with super-glue! Before things got completely out of hand we scurried off and found another market. Packed to the hilt, like most markets we moved swiftly through until George’s eye caught the corpse of a beautiful fire bat with black and gold wings displayed in a picture frame together with some rhino beetles.

New Saigon Hostel called a reputable taxi that swiftly had us at the Edenstar Saigon Hotel. From our self-chosen little hostel that gave us  the very essence of Vietnam we moved up the marble stairs with smartly dressed porters opening the doors and taking our luggage, a colossal display of orchids in the foyer, carpeted passages and a room with an enormous spa bath in the bathroom and a proper safe in the cupboard!

Luxury abounded; we could have been anywhere - London, Paris or New York.

One may like to think that a phone is not vital to travelling these days but, whether we like it or not, it has become an essential. Lea had discovered her phone hadn’t charged overnight at the hostel, so she was quick to plug in her phone.  Only to discover the battery appeared to be draining power before her very eyes. First thought - her phone was dying of old age until we discovered that the USB cord was damaged. We were told of a computer shop very close by and there, we bought a replacement cord. The phone still did not charge. We decided the international plug had also blown. Another outlay of a couple of thousand dongs for a Vietnamese wall plug had us back in business.  Back in Australia, Saxon researched Google and messaged us that a surge in the 220-volt power system is a well-known problem in Vietnam.

In dire need of a proper meal, we lunched at Steak Station immediately next door to the hotel. Despite the name a French/Vietnamese influence was evident. We chose a delicious looking pork from the menu. As we hungrily waited, a TV over the front desk showed steaks being cooked in different mouth-watering ways that we began to think we had made a grave error. Fortunately, not - the presentation of our pork was superb with delicious crackling stacked over succulent slices of meat arranged around a vertical bone.  So good, we returned for another meal that night!

Having overcome taxi terror, we caught another across the Saigon River to Ho Chi Minh’s Museum. A beautiful colonial building turned museum, situated in a lovely garden on the banks of the Saigon River. A good couple of hours were spent looking through the many photos and accounts of Uncle Ho’s life. Adored by the Vietnamese people, Ho Chi Minh’s vision made him a remarkable leader, reminding us of the likes of Nelson Mandela and Ghandi – despite his Lenin inspired, communistic beliefs.

 

 ‘’For the benefit of ten years-time we have to grow trees, but for the benefit of 100 years-time, we have to grow human beings’’.  President Ho Chi Ming, 1958

After spending 30 years abroad (mainly in France) President Ho Chi Minh (1809 – 1989), founder of the Democratic Republic of Vietnam, directly lead the socialist revolution in North Vietnam. He inspired the Vietnamese people to liberate the nation from the domination of colonialism and empire building, and to unify the country.

Back in our room we found a couple of complimentary bananas and an orchid on the bed. The TV had BBC and CNN channels and we switched on to learn coronavirus had spread to 53 countries, with 5 trillion dollars wiped off the stock market, to bring about the deepest global financial crisis since 2008. Mind blowing- we shot back to the Steak Station for beers with our dinner!  

                

EXPLORING THE MEKONG

Day 4 – 29 February 2020

In the lobby shortly before 11 am we’d expected to see others gathering for the On the Go tour. Instead we were the only two collected 11.00 am sharp and taken to the Renaissance Riverside Hotel. This turned out to be the meeting point of all passengers about to embark on the cruise of the lower Mekong River. A ‘Jayavaman’ Reception table had us hand over our passports and luggage, answer health question before being sent to an elegant lounge on the 5^th floor for welcoming refreshments.  Expecting a younger age group simply conjured up by the name ‘On the Go Tours’ especially as we’d had to fill in a form on our physical abilities; we were surprised to see senior groups scattered across the room. Within the hour we were on two coaches headed for My Tho, 70 kms away. Our Vietnamese Tour guide Tai looked after our coach of 17 English speaking passengers and 13 German speaking passengers were on the other coach. We were the only Australians. To cut down on the use of plastic bottles, each passenger given a metal water bottle to clip onto their belt. Tai, a 47-year-old very knowledgeable former teacher grew up in the Mekong delta. As we passed through the countryside, he explained the exceptional fertility of the area; three crops of rice produced per year providing 50% of the rice grown in the country, as well as 70% of the tropical fruits. Apart from the amount of rice grown in this area - fields of maize (corn), dragon fruit, fish farms and ducks congregated around large ponds were all very evident.  

 Prime land was dotted with grave sites

Graves are ideally built above the ground and in accordance with feng shui. Today, most people are cremated unless the family own land. Interestingly, their tradition is not to celebrate birthdays instead, the anniversary of a person’s death is celebrated – the 1^st anniversary being of particular significance as a measure of honour and respect.  Elderly people get very upset if members of the family do not come home for these occasions. 

       

JAYAVARMAN,

Heritage Line’s the Jayavarman is named after the renowned 12^th century Cambodian monarch, revered for his compassion and his enjoyment of the arts.  It was an ‘On the Go’ Tour advert for an 11 Day cruise of the Mekong; a boat that carried 50 passengers that appealed to us, changing the directions of our thoughts for Vietnam. Another plus was all we’d see and experience from the boat. Our brains had formed different expectations that turned out to be quite different as our travels unfolded. Under prevailing circumstances, we could not have chosen a better cruise.  We fell under the enchantment of this Indochina vessel with its relaxed spaces dotted with Khmer art works from the first moment we were assembled in the air conditioned lounge, offered a tightly rolled, lemongrass scented chilled cloth to wipe away the heat  and served a ‘’welcome drink’’ An introduction to the staff, of which there were  42, predominantly Cambodian; was followed by the safety briefing. George more interested in the mention of a Rove beetles we may encounter rather than what to do in case of man overboard or fire. Those, we were advised to flick off not squash, as Rove beetles leave a blister on one’s skin. We didn’t even get to see one…

  

Our cabin (#105) first deck above the water level with its own balcony and immaculate bathroom, had been beautifully prepared with complimentary straw hats and shoulder bags to fit our new water bottles on the bed.

There was even a writing desk for George to write up his diary! Middle deck had more cabins, a reception desk with little gift shop and library area.  The larger, air-conditioned Henry Mouhot lounge named after the French archaeologist who discovered Angkor Wat, was where we congregated prior to excursions. All meetings, talks and films took place in this area.   Rising to the top deck the balmy warm air hit you immediately- this was our favourite place to relax and watch the natural rhythms of the river.  The Mekong is the 12^th longest river in the world at a length of 4,350 km. It wanders through six countries providing resources and life to millions in China, Myanmar, Laos, Thailand, Cambodia and Vietnam.  As we stared outwards from the comfort of our chairs, we were able to observe everyday life for people of the Mekong.   The Funnel Bar always ready to serve any refreshment of choice.  Houng made Lea’s latte or iced coffee to her personal taste perfectly.

  

Front of vessel came the kitchen and the elegant Indochine dining room. Before entering we were greeted, with antibacterial disinfectant squirted onto hands. Inside, we were soon captivated by the utterly charming Moni. Out on excursions we learned to recognize that smile beneath heavy covering to guard her skin, as she captured candid moments on camera.  The kitchen and Dining staff were quietly superb.  Breakfast and Lunch were buffet style with a fresh array of dishes that we had to force ourselves to go easy. A formal menu was served at dinner to include local and international cuisine. We came to know other guests over the meal table and where they came from. The oldest two were John and Thelma Harris. Chris Luck - everyone came to recognise as a character on the boat with his quips, Sue and Jamie Steele, Peter and his partner Liz, all came from the UK.

Finally, a small upper Sundeck had a swimming pool surrounded by reclining chairs with a raised ‘stage’ area at the prow to enact ‘Titanic actions’ and feel on top of the world! 

We were, to quite clearly live way beyond our customary ways on this boat.   As the Jayavarman began rumbling upstream on the Tien River, one of the nine Mekong tributaries into the heart of the Mekong delta, we sat in two comfy chairs on the back deck contentedly watching the world drift by. Our only complaint was the height of the guard rail as it obstructed our view! The soporific sound of the engines rumbling, and leisurely speed of travel reminded us of our many trips on Lake Kariba - except for the passing boat traffic. A remarkable sight. Going in each direction were enormous barges, the ‘’road trains’’ of the Mekong. Some barges so heavily laden and low in the water they looked to be in danger of sinking. When empty they rose up above the river to look like a large tanker. They carried everything from containers to loads of sand dredged from the floor of the estuary.  Sometimes tugs towed the barges and, in amongst the all shipping would be small boats fishing or ferrying people across the river. We passed below huge road bridges, each streaming with traffic. After travelling 45 kms to Cai Be, our Captain dropped anchor in the middle of the estuary, shortly before sunset. 

 

    

After dinner, our first night,  a briefing held in the lounge outlined the nature of the 7-day programme of ’Life on Board’’ We were to travel 970 kms during the course of that time with a number of excursions on shore and deviations from the main channel of the Mekong. Each day began with a Tai Chi class on the sun deck. Being the lazy lizards, we are- we did not partake. 

 

Day 5 – 1 March

The English and German taxi boats arriving. In the background the beautiful streamlined bridges we were to often see stretching over the Mekong River.

Outward bound on our first excursion aboard a ‘’local boat’’ to benefit the local economy; we disappeared into one of the branches of the delta to visit the Cai Be floating market. Note must be made of the listening device our group had been issued with. These enabled us to hear our guide Tai’s voice over and above the noise of engines, water and the extraneous noises around us – we could also wander about looking while he spoke, rather than huddled together, straining to hear what was being said. Soon, we nosed our way amongst a multitude of boats of different types – homes to many. High on the mast, hung the vegetable a boat had for sale. These were the ‘middle-men’. A vital component between the buyers and the suppliers as they ply the river system between all provinces around the Mekong delta buying and selling fresh fruits and vegetables. Homes and shanties in different stages of construction or decay lined the river’s edge.  Cai Be’s beautiful Gothic cathedral stood in sharp contrast.  We stopped alongside three boats tied up together for better stability allowing Tai to buy a sack of sweet potatoes for the Jayavarman kitchen and allow us to clamber across the boats to peer below and see how families lived.  The waterway bustled with activity – we’d have happily sat and watched the passing parade for hours.

   

The seeing eyes on boats warded off evil spirits.

The sight of government buildings with loudspeakers on the roof prompted Tai to explain how these are used to broadcast propaganda to the locals (whether they like it or not) each morning and each evening.

Continuing further up the river to Phu An we walked into a village where co-operative small industries were taking place across a ‘home workshop’. 

A team of ladies made rice paper. These, in production, were for wrapping fresh spring rolls

 Some men were involved in distilling rice wine using the tiny fragments of rice left over from the de-husking /polishing process to create a 70% alcohol.

Intriguing were the men popping rice. The equivalent of popcorn yet this was done in a large wok by heating up sand before the rice was added.  Once popped, the lot was poured into a handheld sieve to remove the steadily blackening fine sand.   

Another man-made rice cakes with the puffed rice. Compressing and packaging them after sticky mixtures containing additions of different flavourings were being routinely made. 

 

    

We had missed the coconut removal of its flesh and milk for the day although Tai explained the process before taking us across t the Coconut Candy man. His next batch of toffee-like coconut candy was in the throes of being mixed and stretched in a machine. A lovely light caramel colour it smelt delicious.  Meanwhile, he had moved on to cut fast cooling coconut candy with peanuts into small squares.

On hand, a group of young girls with nimble fingers rapidly picked up rice paper and a wrapper- both pre-cut to size, and hand wrapped speedily as they chatted. We were given samples to try – it was very moreish, and memories of childhood buttermilk suckers came to mind.  George was in trouble for leaving his wallet in the safe! 

At the front – items were all for sale and George marvelled over the gross bottles of snake wine for sale – each with an unfortunate cobra within. Taken twice a day before meals it supposedly cures rheumatism, lumbago and ‘’sweat of limbs’’ - whatever that means!

Travelling through one of the most extensive deltas in the world in this manner was nothing short of superb! So busy, and no doubt horribly polluted, but clearly vital to the welfare of millions of people. Gigantic rice mills on the water’s edge, busy de-husking and bagging polished rice; passing barges laden with rice husks used for fuel for everything from household stoves to brick making. And amongst all the hustle and bustle, the clatter of the propellers behind the long boats and the throbbing of diesel engines, were fishermen in rickety, little wooden boats lifting gill nets, as they tossed around in the wake of passing barges. 

 

    

There are over 3000 km of man-made canals in the Mekong delta. With large tracts of mangroves having been cut down in places, erosion of the banks was an obvious problem judging from the precarious state of some of the waterside developments. Undermining of banks threatens their stability.  George constantly wondered about the range of ecological, sociological and economic studies that must have been done of the delta and whether such studies had been able to keep abreast of its ever-changing, dynamic nature.

We were back at our vessel before 11. The Captain set sail for Sadec where our afternoon excursion would take place.  From top deck we watched the endless flotilla of boats and barges passing by, dredgers filling barges with sand which Tai said was not only used locally but exported to Thailand and Singapore! 

 Dredging for building sand.

By 2 pm we were in Sadec and soon after we’d anchored two local boats arrived to take us through narrow channels of the delta to Binh Thanh Island, population 10 0000 where people make their living from farming Tilapia and catfish. It wasn’t too far from Tai’s mother’s home.  As we travelled, we noticed thick stands of water hyacinth. Many of which were purposely fenced off (using bamboo) to prevent it from floating away. Doing so not only served to dampen the wave action caused by passing boats; it enabled harvesting of the stems of hyacinth. These are dried and used to create a very strong form of matting or baskets. In places, the rafts of hyacinth were thick enough to support a layer of mud / soil allowing vegetables such as cucumbers were grown.  We also spotted many brushwood fish traps – brushwood piled up in the river to form shelters for fish. The shelters, baited with household food waste and after a certain amount of time, surrounded by a net. The brushwood removed and all the fish, accustomed to sheltering there, caught by hand.  As a child, Tai had grown up on the river and learnt to catch shrimps that sheltered amongst the roots of the water hyacinth. We gained a new respect and ‘asset value’ for water hyacinth, so often regarded as a ‘’noxious weed’’.

 

All along the riverbanks we observed local life and trading activities. More was to be seen as Tai led us onto the island shore and proceeded to walk us through the local community.  It was stiflingly hot, and our clothes were soon wet as we tried to keep to the shady side of street and village pathways. We found respite in a community hall/local temple, looked after by two old residents.  These village elders told us stories of their lives with Tai acting as an interpreter. The changes seen during their lives, about the schools and hospitals that have since been developed in the area, how much they had hated the war and how they’d filled bomb craters with water to use them as fishponds. A lovely interaction.

Village Elders: The lady aged 78, hadn’t been near a doctor in over 30 years. The man aged 80.

Further into the village we came across a wedding tent being put up with a dominant wedding arch - both squeezed in amongst the houses. Liz turned and asked Lea to take a photo of her and partner Peter, only to learn Liz had proposed to him in leap year tradition the day before.  Thank goodness for our hearing devices or we’d have been lost. The group had turned down a concealed path to see a home industry.

 

A 78-year-old woman perched in an awkward and exhausting position tamped down a rattan mat, she and her daughter were making.   Not far off, excitable quacking and barking of dogs was taking place – as we arrived at the neighbour’s house, we were horrified to see a duck was about to lose its head. The squeamish made a dash to get away; others stood somewhat stunned.  In the melee, Tai suddenly had a pup in his arms – was he rescuing it, or had he unexpectedly been given ‘Bear’ – as he named it.     

  

Bear quickly nestled down on Tai’s lap on the boat home. He was to live in Tai’s cabin for a night and a day sleeping on his dirty shirt for comfort!

Early evening, Tai gave a presentation in the lounge “Life on the Mekong Delta” which we attended.  Very interesting   with personal photos of his life. Many of his wedding and all the lavish changes of dress that took place- hired for each occasion.   He drew attention to the very real threat posed by the number of hydro-electric dams being built upstream in China and Thailand. These included interference with the movement of fish, alteration of the flow regime, saline intrusion due to reduced flows and sediment interception – all vitally important issues for people living downstream and unable to do much about the situation.

After dinner we watched a Documentary “Vietnam’s Enigma: Ho Chi Minh” giving us an insight into the life of Ho Chi Ming.  We’d travel 115km of the Mekong that day.  Each night we’d returned to our cabin and find a copy of the next day’s proceedings on our bed along with a little gift.  Little touches that brought so much pleasure.

Day 6 – 2 March 2020

Our insight into the fisheries of the Mekong delta continued the next day. Our morning excursion took us to a floating fish farm. Apparently one of the highly profitable ventures in the area, involving huge investments.  The large corrugated iron buildings involved float on large plastic pipes and drums to enable them to rise and fall with the tide or river level. Below the building, a wooden cage extending to a depth of 1.5m or more.  The floor of the cage also made of hard, water resistant wood. 

 

The farm we visited specialised in breeding fish from stock which enabled them to extrude the eggs of ripe females and fertilise them using the milt (sperm) of ripe running male fish. By self-fertilising fish eggs in this manner they were also able to make money supplying young fish to other fish farmers.  Once the resultant fry had reached the size of ‘’two fingers’’ they would be released into the cages below the farm.  Around 100 000 fingerlings, were fed with dried pellets made in large factories we were to pass along different sections of the Mekong.  Expensive! The owner of the farm we were visiting had come up with his own production of a home-made mixture of rice and sweet potatoes. At that early hour and straight after breakfast Lea and other ladies found the smell overbearing – not helped when we spotted dog poop on a sheet of plastic nearby. This raised attention to what a dog or three, has to do, living on a floating home. 

When the time came to remove the fish, a net is dropped around the perimeter of the cage and pursed in order to concentrate the fish. These are then removed by hand using dip nets. With fish faeces collecting on the floor of the cage - water can be pumped through the cage. This can also be done to maintain water quality (oxygen concentrations). Within a year, a yield of up 50 ton of tilapia and catfish can be harvested, representing an annual income (at a wholesale price of US$2 / kg) of $100 000.  Middlemen would pull up alongside the farm and purchase live fish. If they were not travelling far, they literally half filled their boat with water and popped in the fish.  Others put tilapia in plastic bags, semi-filled with water before being topped up with oxygen. Live fish sought after by restaurants in cities.  Catfish are filleted and exported overseas.

A lone fisherman with his hand-line, is drawn to fishing in the vicinity of a fish farm as river fish are attracted there as well.

We docked on the jetty in the town of Tan Chau and walked to the central market – a labyrinth of passages between people selling a mind-boggling array of things from gold to fabrics, flowers, foodstuffs, vegetables, fruit, fish, prawns, frogs and skinned rats.

Unlike us with fridges and deep-freezes at home to store foodstuffs; markets of this nature are the lifeblood of Cambodian communities. They visit to buy / sell their produce every day from early in the morning to late into the evening. Motorbikes pushing their way through the narrow passageways added to the chaos. At one-point George accidentally collided with a lady carrying a young child in her arms. The child cracked its head against his metal shoulder – something to be avoided at all costs!

Each of us used a ‘’xelois’’ - after learning how to get into it in lady-like fashion and sit right, without upsetting the balance) to return to the esplanade where our local boat taxi awaited us down on the dock.  Heritage Line book the services of these local tri-shaws, mostly pedalled by older men, putting money directly in their pockets (generally everyone tipped a $ as well) And, we had the delight of using cultural transport.

 A final team photo with Tai

   

Tai, our wonderful Vietnamese tour guide left us. He returned to shore with Bear, to catch a bus and spend a couple of days with his mother until the next Heritage Line vessel arrived heading back to Ho Chi Minh City. He would give Bear to his mother.

From Tan Chau, Jayavarman headed for the Cambodian border 25 km away. Border procedures would be handled by the ship’s Officers. As we travelled up-stream we were given a towel and napkin folding demonstration.  

  

Once we entered Cambodia - the most dramatic difference was the much-reduced shipping activity, the nature of the structures on the shoreline changed to dwellings on stilts, as well as the shoreline vegetation and land use. There were signs of cattle for the first time. The vessel continued to Phnom Penh 100 km on. Instead of a shore excursion that afternoon we were served up with Afternoon High Tea -only failing were the scones!



Lea shot off to the dining room where the ship’s Chef would give a hands-on demonstration of how to make Vietnamese style Spring Rolls and the very popular Khmer Chicken Amok.  That was a lot of fun and we were each given a little book of Vietnamese and Cambodian Cuisine.

Out on the deck George continued to observe the changes wrought on the Cambodian side and was struck by the fact that throughout the trip there had been an absence of fish-eating birds, particularly since it was such a fish-centred environment. No sign of cormorants, no terns, and only a few gulls and herons.  Herons, lurking about on mats of hyacinth had been far more numerous on the Saigon river. 

Nearing Phnom Penh, the capital of Cambodia, the appearance of high-rise buildings and cranes changed the otherwise rural nature of our surrounds. A boat arrived and a medical team came aboard. We all had to have our temperatures taken. Just before dinner we tied up alongside another of the Heritage Line ships, the Jahan, in Phnom Penh.  Luckily our cabin overlooked the river rather than up against its sister ship.

The title of the film showing that night did not catch our fancy – ‘New Year Baby’ nor did we wish to go out and explore the city nightlife. We were feeling pretty weary and after chatting in the dining room headed down to bed.  Lea hesitated at the stairway down to our cabin to see what the film was about only to be sucked in… and there she stayed gripped by a story of a girl born in the time of Pol Pot trying to get her reluctant parents to share their history.

Day 7 – 3 March 2020

During breakfast Cambodian immigration officials arrived to confirm we looked like the photos contained in our passports – a type of face recognition exercise. Our visas were about to be issued and soon we’d have our passports back in our safekeeping. In the lounge we were introduced to our Cambodian tour guide, Sam, and advised we  were in for a long day, beginning with a 45 minute bus trip to visit the Choeung Ek Genocide Centre otherwise known as the ‘’Killing Fields’’ which lay 15km SW of Phnom Penh. 

On the way, Sam gave us a thumbnail insight into Cambodian politics (a one-party state), how elections take place and the background to the history of 1975-1979 under Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge. (‘’Pol Pot’’ was not his real name, it stood for Political Potential). During this period thousands of local people had been executed and displaced, the city of Phnom Penh had been emptied of people and sent to farm rice in the countryside); government officials were killed, as was anyone considered to be educated (i.e. intellectuals with glasses, or people with un-calloused hands), Buddhist monks, foreigners, diplomats, together with their wives and children. In a desperation to transform Cambodia’s national identity the Khmer Rouge soldiers burnt marketplaces, abolished the monetary system, destroyed schools, hospitals and pagodas, as well as monuments such as Angkor the source of so much national pride. Behind the scenes the Chinese government (Moa-si-Tung) offered the Khmer Rouge all the support (weapons and ammunition) they needed. Little had we recognised how the 2.5 million tons of bombs dropped onto the Ho Chi Minh Trail in Cambodia by the USA had played into the hands of Pol Pot. The local people on the Cambodia / Vietnam border had been convinced, giving their support to the revolution, would prevent no further bombing by the Americans.  

In the same way, our visits to the extermination camps established by the Nazis had left us with a sense of revulsion and despair for the despicable of humankind - so too was our visit to the Killing Fields. We walked among the 129 mass graves where thousands of Cambodians had been brutally executed, children included, not with bullets or gas, but beaten to death with bamboo poles, the head of hoes, or stabbed to death with knives and swords.

 This peaceful environment conceals past horrors and pain, too terrible to bear imagining. We came in respect.  

   

       

The Musical Tree to which loudspeakers were attached to disguise the sound of screams, with loud music.

The Memorial Stupa – A Place of Skulls stands testimony to a hell on earth.

“The struggle of men against tyranny is the struggle of memory against pain”  

This was to be an emotionally draining day. Back to the city and Toul Sleng Prison - aka Security Prison 21 or S-21 where more atrocities were committed during the Khmer Rouge period. George had visited the prison (a former school) 19 years previously in 2001 while attending a wetland workshop in Phnom Penh. He had been shaken by the experience not knowing the history. This time he had Sam’s explanations to what took place here. Lea had read books on Pol Pot’s regime and was deeply moved by all the photographs giving a human face to this abstract horror – gallery after gallery, row on row of identifying mug shots taken at the time. Some bear the same number as another, murdered before them.  Around 20000 people passed through here. 

We prefer the word ‘portrait’ of victims interrogated here, before they were ‘’liquidated’’ at the Killing Fields

The gallows from which people under interrogation were suspended upside down,                             

Their heads submerged in water at intervals. 

Memorial 

                                  

 

 Mural photograph of  the surviving children

A handful of prisoners survived the ordeal, along with five children found hiding in the complex.  The eldest, a nine-year-old boy.  Below the Wall mural of these children – the son of that nine-year-old was selling his father’s book.   Of the seven surviving adults, two return to their prison every day as Living Reminders of what occurred here.

 An artist, Bou Meng survived on his talents and was renowned for his paintings of Pol Pot 

 

Chum Mey endured 2 years of torture in S-21 and became a survivor thanks to being the only person in the prison who knew how to fix machines in particular typewriters.

Pol Pot died in 1998. He was never formally accused of war crimes. He attributed all the atrocities committed during his reign to his generals (three of whom have also died) and certain prison guards. At a cost of $300 million and still rising, United Nations trials are still underway.  Guide Sam’s comment - ‘’forgiveness acts as the water, one uses to quell the fire of anger”. It has allowed the country to move on and put the Pol Pot regime behind them.   Again, as in Vietnam, we detected no bitterness. Does Buddhist philosophy – ‘we are not a religion, but a way of life’ account for this?   

           

We lunched at Malis, a local fine dining restaurant that somehow became a little disorientated with our English group arriving well after the German group in the private dining room. A set Cambodian style lunch enjoyed before our afternoon visit to the Royal Palace.

 The Palace with the King’s accommodation to the right. The reigning King is a Monk.

 

George seldom finds elaborate finery particularly interesting and took shady refuge on the edge of a garden.  A scrawny little kitten sneaked up onto his lap and thought he had gone to heaven!

 The Silver Pagoda

It had been a long day, as predicted and the humid heat was life sapping that many of our group headed home on the coach rather than stop to see the National Museum with its collection of Khmer sculptures. Many of them had been damaged or vandalized during subsequent invasions after the Angkor Wat period seeking to sell them on the black market. It was a huge building and all standing to follow history worn the two of us down that we eventually settled in a courtyard to rest our sore feet.  Sam spotted us and sent us back to the ship on a welcome ‘’cyclo’’. The many steep steps down to the jetty where the two Heritage Line boats were moored were enough for one day- we would not be doing a night tour of Phnom Penh after dinner! All we wanted was a cold shower.

The shower revived us, and we dashed up to attend an early evening lecture “A narrative journey through Cambodia’s modern history” by Frenchman, Prof. Jean Fillipi who covered Cambodian History over the period 1953-1993 and the life of the monarch, King Sinahouk – the reigning Monk’s father.

A barbeque dinner was held up on the Sun Deck overlooking the city lights of Phnom Penh – former ‘Paris of the East’. This was fittingly followed by a performance of local Apsara dancers who trace their origins back to the Royal Court of the Khmer Empire.

 Delightfully expressive dances letting hands, feet and faces do the talking.

Jayavarman remained in port for another night. Our minds had been overwhelmed by the day and no way would we reconsider climbing up the many steps of the riverbank to wander in the Night Market, stroll the esplanade or take a tuk-tuk exploration of Cambodia’s Capital City.  BED!  

Day 8 – 4 March 2020

Our ship weighed anchor at 5.00am and we heard the sound in our sleepy state as the engine revved and slowly moved up the Tonle Sap River as far as the village of Kampong Tralach, 50km North of Phnom Penh.  During breakfast we were there and soon moored up in readiness for our morning outing.  Much excitement as we spotted two wheeled oxcarts gathering in readiness to take us a visiting!

All aboard our oxcarts we gently trundled our way through the little village and out past rice paddies and lotus lily ponds to the local ‘’Green School’’ sponsored in part by Heritage Line.  English speaking Gap Year Students volunteering for Cambodia are eagerly snapped up by Green School. The Organization of Kampong Tralach Green Seeds (KTGS) was founded in 2016 by the local people. The school provides free education (in Khmer, English and computer skills) to local kids from all socioeconomic backgrounds and they have 300 in attendance. The ability to speak English considered paramount to jobs in the future and the children are inspired to work and learn creatively for the betterment of the community and their own futures. State schools have morning and afternoon sessions.  The Green School fits in accordingly and we were encouraged to interact with the children. The ‘morning’ children, across Junior school ages, (included a very keen 3-year-old) politely sat at their desks. They sang songs and our groups responded with songs; they acted out movements of animals (crocodiles, snakes, tigers, dogs even a kangaroo) for us to guess the animal; and their 29-year-old teacher answered any question we raised.  UK Sue and German Georg volunteered to draw 5 pictures on white boards for the children to identify.  Sorry Georg, your missile missed its mark! A rousing version of ‘’Old MacDonald had a Farm’’ ended formalities and the children came to make conversation on a one on one basis -Somewhat shyly at first. It was a lovely experience.

  

We returned to the ship two hours later in the back of a motor bike drawn trailer - like farm kids! The Jayavarman cast off and continued to cruise upstream to Kampong Chhnang along the ever narrowing, very turbid Tonle Sap River.  Mid-morning two of the Cambodian staff conducted an informative fashion show demonstrating traditional Khmer costume from the formal to informal.  George volunteered his wife to dressed up in a 4m long sarong, drawn up between her legs before being twisted to look like a monkey tail before being tucked into her waist band! 

The Krama, the Sarong and Sampots! 

Our guide, Sam added to this fashion demonstration by showing pictures of his wedding to give an indication of the elaborate nature of this one big occasion in Cambodian life and all the different clothes worn for different ceremonies ending with a Westernized White wedding!  Earlier than estimated, our vessel passed through the narrow river channel “Aun lung Oak” during our slide show with Sam.  We felt the boat shudder as the rudder probably dragged on the bottom. George remained seated although he was dying to leap up and go and see. 

On reaching the town of Kampong Chhnang (population 25 000) a van or Noddy bus, took each group to an outlying rural area to observe Cambodian life and the making of clay stoves, cooking pots and collection of palm sugar.

  

Home industry earning a pittance hand making ‘daily use’ pottery without a potter’s wheel. This young Mum placed the clay on a wooden pedestal and bodily circled the clay using her hands as she speedily around and around the pedestal. After the clay shape had rested a bottom to the pot was formed and the neck of the pot patterned. These pots are fired using rice straw and rice husks to create the required heat. Granny looks after the children.

A far bigger production team was involved in making ‘thick walled clay stoves’ with ventilation holes in the floor.  Many steps involved in the production of this stove. Different hands were required for different stages of production beginning with the man who created the ‘tin bucket’ frame for shaping the clay stove mould. Not only insulated, the stove used a reduced amount of fuel.

  We moved on to meet this unforgettable, toothless, 69-year-old man with calloused hands.

Mr Chee has climbed e has climbed the dizzy heights of sugar palms twice a day, all his life. Beaming from ear to ear he shinned up the nearest sugar palm using a bamboo ladder strapped to its trunk like a trapeze artist. He disappeared into the canopy for a short time before emerging gleefully with two bamboo canisters filled with sap, strapped to his waist. He gave a heart stopping moment swinging out to another Sugar Palm simply to enjoy our gasps! Once back on terra firma, we were taken to his little shady covered visitor’s centre and shown how the sap is collected from the flowers.

Sugar palms

Bamboo ladder

    

Climbing sugar palms using bamboo ladder

Specimens from both the Sugar Palm female and male flowers were on display.

Each sex has to be massaged in a particular manner first thing in the morning, before a small cut is made. A bamboo cannister is hung below each flower to collect the drips. The sweetest nectar is obtained from the female flowers. Starting at 3.00 a.m. in the morning he has 15 palms to climb each day, often in the dark. Sap collection begins towards evening time. Once 90 litres of sap have been collected, Mr Chee is able to produce 10kg of palm sugar. The Sugar palm is Cambodia’s National tree.  Blocks of Palm sugar are expensive to buy. Although, Lea dearly wanted to buy a jar directly from source she knew Australia’s strict quarantine rules would remove it from her as it lacked formal, hygienic packaging.  Very different from palm oil production elsewhere. We have a new respect for this ingredient.

Our van returned us to the river.  Our local boat took us further upriver to see large floating Villages of Vietnamese immigrants who took up occupation in the 1980’s. There are around 170 such villages both big and small existing in Cambodia, none of which have any facilities, and there is increasing concern over the effect they are have on water quality. We were in Tonle Sap River at a very low period. This river drains from the great Lake of Tonle Sap.   The high-water season is 16 000 km² in extent with 1.2 million people living in floating villages.

Long-tail boats went speeding by – we remember them from our trips to Taman Negara in Malaysia and up the River Kwai in Thailand.

After dinner we watched a film “Blood or Money”  Dr Beat Richner’s story  of Children’s Hospitals in Siem Reap and Phnom Penh,  The plight of the under-resourced hospitals in Cambodia; the numbers of people still dying of tuberculosis and dengue fever, the amount of corruption occurring in government departments (hospitals included) and trade in incorrect medications.

The Jayavarman had departed Phnom Penh early in the morning and before the Captain’s day was done, he would travel 110 km overall, to have us back and anchored mid-river in Phnom Penh, late that night.

Day 9 – 5 March 2020

We were back in the main channel of the Mekong River in the low water season. The Tonle Sap River, we’d travelled yesterday was now considered too shallow for further Heritage Line ship to travel up.  In due course we stopped beside Koh Oknha Tey and were taken in tuk-tuks, 4 up along narrow concrete roads (passing ginger farms) to Silk Island.

 

A popular resort for families and famous for silk production and the manufacture of silk garments. For the two of us, the life cycle and care of the silkworm was well Known, and we could see the mulberry trees were not looking too verdant.  The extraordinary amount of silk obtained from a single cocoon (30 m) and the relative ease from much practice, as the women spun the silk off cocoons was an intriguing business – yellow cocoons bobbing about in the bowl of water (previously boiled) to aid the process. Another interesting factor- all the silkworm droppings are collected and sold as fertilizer. We watched women working on looms set up by specialists beforehand, this task, itself, taking 2-3 weeks to complete.

With little interest in the silk shop we took a walk down neat pathways across the shady property dominated by mango tree and a good few busy gardeners. Day trippers could hire huts on stilts and their children entertained with cages containing peacocks, a couple of porcupines, a miserable looking crocodile and a sickly dragon lizard or animal murals set amongst the gardens. Down at the river, a recreational area lined with hammocks for people to rest in.  This was a popular idea we’d seen by the roadsides in Vietnam for workers to rest up during their lunch hour although far more rustic. Until now, this was the first we’d seen in Cambodia – cool airy place with carpets.

 

By morning teatime, we were back on the boat as it set sail for Angkor Ban. In turn, the guides gave German and then English presentations in the lounge on the ‘Geography of the Mighty Mekong and the Tonle Sap Rivers.  We attended Sam’s  and along with his photos and descriptions we learned of the delicacies they go out of their way to capture in the field from childhood - such as the spiders (Cambodians call tarantulas!), trapping crickets at night with a white cloth and a light behind  and smoking snakes; all for eating .  A water festival each  October honours the Water God; the children play in the mud like ‘’hick-hack-hock’’ only for the loser to have their face pushed into the mud; fish production statistics and pictures of huge stingrays, catfish and  carp increased our knowledge of the Mekong.

Early afternoon, we were invited to take part in the cultural tradition of a Blessing Ceremony by two saffron robed monks, and their layman, who speaks on their behalf came aboard to share their Theravada Buddhism faith in this blessing. It involved chanting and sprinkling of holy water (unfortunately it included the unexpected and strident noise of the layman’s mobile phone!). This is the majority faith of Cambodians and The Buddhist faith was expanded for us. It is not a religion but a way of life – central is ‘’what goes around, comes around’’.  Monks have 274 commandments to follow – ten of which, as George recalled were: No stealing, lying, adultery, killing, alcohol, getting excited (or angry), cooking of food, touching of women, ornaments, or asking for money.  Another interesting fact - should they wish, monks can leave the monastery to marry and have children. So too, they may resume life as a monk in later life.  Monks are fed by the people in villages.  ‘’Novice monks’’ (less than 18 years old) are schooled and along with homeless people, also cared for in the monastery.

The layman and our guides sat on the floor below the monks.

We learnt more to the significance of bowing and the placement of hands being held in front of one as if in prayer. The higher hands are placed, starting at chest level, the greater is respect shown. Hence in the presence of in the presence of a government official or leader the clasped hands are below the nose, and even higher for a Monk.

Jayavaman was moored to the land and a gangway laid to take us on land. As always, the crew spread out to ensure our safety as we walked up the steep riverbank to the central Monastery area overlooking the river and the village of Angkor Ban stretching behind. The main path was lined with the Chinese Zodiac which is based on the lunar calendar assigning 12 animals and their reputed attributes over a 12-year cycle. 

Lea and her son Keith were born in the Year of the Dog.  George - Year of the Monkey

At this point, George’s camera battery died. Lea became the errant photographer, using her phone.  With rat, pig and ox-born in the family, they were photographed and of course George had to have his photo beside the monkey!  SO, a change of subject matter followed!  Further along a puppy caught Lea’s eye especially when it grabbed a sandal from the rows of footwear removed for entry along the temple stairway and rushed inside with a black dog following – perhaps to remind pup this was not the ‘done’ thing. 

Pup returned suitably chastened without said shoe and Lea photographed. 

 

From the monastery we set off on a walk through the rural village with George calling to Lea to capture sights on camera. 

 

OH, the sights, sounds and smells along with the heat.  We thought we were on an afternoon stroll, yet we had to leap off the path as sounds of motor bikes and bicycles penetrated our brains or a warning cry came from behind us. Cattle lived beneath their owner’s house. Families all helped reap and prepare the drying corn (yellow mealies) and peanuts for market. Galangal, ginger, turmeric and lemongrass grew in odd corners ready for kitchen use; cages contained cocks used for fighting. Children passed us on their bikes returning from school. Others helped their mother carry out a stall of indigo dyed products in case a quick sale could be.

Houses were on stilts with very steep steps up. The higher they were, the cooler? While others were just high enough to be away from the waters of the wet season.  We entered one to see how the family lived. Bamboo flooring with a pile of sleeping mats in one corner the kitchen area. A professional wedding photo taking pride of place on the wall.  A 92-year-old man sat in the doorway watching the world pass by. His daughter saw to his care and all his needs up there.

    

He moved back from the doorway as we entered… Lea thought he was saying “Come over here”! He was repeating Kampuchea!

  

We found the staff set up a Riverbank cocktail party for us. Music, seating and lights with a table load of drinks and snacks.  It was hot, we were hot…

 

Sue and Lea quenched their thirst as the sun set

Lea with her Singapore Sling                                            

               

 

The fried Crickets to snack on! 

  

Cameras certainly clicked fast and furiously when a man arrived down at the rivers edge with his cattle and began to wash them down. Cattle are not free to roam- they are tethered under the house and taken to the river under supervision for fear they will graze out the crops.

Cool relief came once the sun disappeared and some began to dance on the rough incline of the riverbank.  As darkness fell some made their way down to the boat. We had all found scarves on our bed the previous night and we needed to prepare for the Cambodian style dinner wearing the Scarf as creatively as possible.

Scarf Dinner

Chris Luck from England unanimously took out the award - no prize unfortunately as many forgot and the event died very quietly. Delicious dinner though.

During dinner Jayavarman had set sail towards Kampong Cham - we travelled 110 km that day to overnight mid -river near Kampong Cham. Tonight’s film was a BBC Documentary “Jewels of the Jungle” giving a history of Angkor Wat – we took up our familiar seats. 

Day 10 – 6 March 2020

Our last full day on board dawned. It began with a choice. Those who wished to have exercise could walk up the steep long flight of steps to visit an ancient pre-Angkor, 7^th century temple, Wat Hanchey. Set on the top of a hill with panoramic views across the Mekong.  For those less energetic, motor bikes would be available at the top of the riverbank, we were moored to presently and the drivers would take people to the top.  Lea joined George and they walked with the small group. She was glad she did as the steep inclines in places would have been horrifying from a motor bike!

The old temple was set within a large complex of ornate pagodas, more modern temples and schools.

Elsewhere on the grounds were large cement replicas of all sorts of tropical fruits, animals from tigers to crabs, a cricket depicted with ten legs!

 

Stretching out below we could see a vast sandbank in the river illustrating not just how low the Mekong was at this time of year but also the extent to which the dams upstream aggravate the situation.

George heard there were some captive gibbons. Fully expecting to find they were macaques; George went off to find them. Sure enough, they were gibbons (pileated gibbons with black faces and white ear tufts, an endangered species) – one tied by a leash, the other free ranging up in the tree. Apparently, he was the more aggressive which did not make sense.

 

 George put out to the one on the leash and it immediately grasped his hand and climbed up his body into his arms quite content to be cradled.

We walked back the longer route to the boat.  Once back. began heading for Kampong Cham - the third largest city in Cambodia and a place of corruption and wealth lay two hours away. This was our last destination. Here we were to remain for the rest of the day and the night before setting off, by bus, for Siam Reap. How we will miss this gentle glide along the Mekong with so much of interest to observe as we sip on iced coffee and fruit smoothies. So deeply relaxing. 

Mid-afternoon we were off on our last boat excursion. A short bus ride took us to a monastery Wat Nokor which had been built within the ruins of a 12^th century Angkorian temple site. Our bus squeezed through the ancient walled entrance made for working elephants at that time. Within these ruins another temple had been built during the 16^th century. Of immediate interest were all the holes we could see in the blocks. These had been hand ‘’drilled’’ to assist in their transportation, lifting and placement.

Our journey continued to Chiro village where the Organisation for Basic training (OBT), a Non-Government- Organization runs a school providing free education in French, English, Music, dance and computer classes for over 300 kids.  The school has proudly adopted a plastic re-cycling project encouraging each child to ‘pay’ a school fee by collecting as much plastic along the route to school.  We arrived as the kids poured out of the double storied bamboo building – it was Friday afternoon and they were off to do a joint collection of discarded plastic. As our group slowly moved through to go see inside the classrooms – George and Lea looked down at the meticulous sums, a young kid was doing sitting on a pile of bricks outside.

  

Seeing our interest, others were quick to pull out books from a material bag and show us their work. Such pride, George was quick to remark at careless, scruffy work he’d seen from children attending some of the best schools in Australia and the UK and loudly mused how it was,  that when surrounded by so little and with such meagre resources, Cambodian kids took such a different attitude to learning. 

  

How do the upstairs classrooms withstand the number of feet pounding along this seemingly fragile corridor?     

On the way to the Dance and Music School we passed some cattle and a calf enjoyed a good neck scratch. Just beyond was a bamboo ramp leading out to a platform giving us a wonderful view of the flood plains and all the crop farming.

The girls enthusiastically gave us a lovely concert, in particular a very musical girl on a xylophone. 

Three and a half decks to boat and our last night on the Jayavarman was made most memorable when the entire staff and crew from the Captain down were found waiting on the ‘half’ deck at the top of the boat. Everyone served a glass of bubbles to toast this final night as each leader of the hierarchy moved to individually tip glasses in farewell with us all. Guests clapped their hands sore thanking each division.  Drinking and dancing was soon underway.

It was Sue Steele’s birthday - we joined her Birthday table and six of us enjoyed a final, sumptuous dinner together.

Adding a final touch to our final night aboard – we were invited to a ‘show’ down in the lounge where we laughed heartily at all the candid shots taken throughout the voyage by the ship’s incognito cameras that had shadowed us for the past week. Moni easily uncovered by her smile! Each cabin was presented this keepsake flash drive within a beautiful little wooden box with the Heritage Line insignia on it, as a record of our trip.  The journey may have cost a lot more than we are accustomed to spending ourselves. However, we simply could not have asked for a better experience while learning so much about the Mekong delta and its peoples.  Leaving the Jayavarman and its superb, well-oiled team was quite a wrench particularly knowing the world was changing fast due to COVID-19. All these good people teetered on the brink of months of unemployment in an unprecedented time of a virus impacting our planet. 

   

Day 11 – 7 March 2020

No sooner were we up at 7.15 am than our luggage was whisked onto the coach taking us to Siam Reap, 4-5 hours away, with Sam still in attendance. It was a long, monotonous journey along narrow roads until we reached the national road built and paid for by the Chinese. Alongside, was a continuous strip of development, mostly shacks, roadside shops and stalls.  Slow-moving trucks, motor bikes and cars made for a busy road. Sam explained most of the cars seen on the road (left hand drive Toyotas and Lexus) were second-hand vehicles brought in. Vehicles markets from countries using salt on their roads were avoided.   A 15-year-old car in USA (worth $6 000) would cost $28 000 in Cambodia due to taxes imposed. A new Range Rover - $ 250 000!  The passing countryside comprised dried out rice lands awaiting the rains; a few emaciated cattle grazed in these desiccated paddy fields; plantations of rubber trees, cassava and mangoes. On both sides of the road, a sea of litter and discarded plastic.  At a halfway point on the route - we bade farewell to Sam. He would return to the boat with 17 new guests instead of 54 as originally chartered by this American group. One anxious American approached George for his opinion on the safety and enjoyment of Jayavarman.

Once in Siam Reap, we were taken to the Victoria Hotel – not knowing who or what was to happen here as Heritage Line formally handed us over to a variety of Tour groups. We were relieved to meet Mao, holding up our names. He was our Cambodian guide designated by “On the Go Tours’’ to take us to Angkor Wat next day.  A short distance away, he booked us into the Seam Siam Reap Hotel for our last two nights. Our spacious room on the second floor looked down on a central swimming pool.

 

    

We decided we’d stay in the hotel for dinner. At sunset we went down to the pool for a beer. Our order came with three plus spicy hot peanuts. Three for two encouraged us to drink more! We were the only two in the dining room that night.   A complication arose that night for the second time in our lives. The room worked off a touch screen beside the bed. When time came to sleep, we thought we knew what to do yet we were unable to switch off a bright light in the cupboard!  Eventually we hung two towels over the louvred doors to block out the light. Still not good enough for light-sensitive Lea as dull stripes of light were still obvious.

Day 12 – 8 March 2020

Our long-awaited day to visit Angkor Wat began at 4.00am! Not by choice though, as we were not going to see a temple sunrise!  Our room was unexpectedly flooded in light. Stunned and blinded like buck in the headlights, it took us moments to grasp the situation.  However, by 8.00 am we were handed medical masks and on our way with Mao and driver on a private tour of the world’s largest religious complex, epicentre of the Khmer Empire, built over a period of 600 years (AD 802 – 1432).  What an incredible day it turned out to be! First stop the Visitors Centre for our entrance tickets. Further indication of the effects of coronavirus on Cambodia’s tourist industry. Apparently at least an hour in the queue to have your photograph taken for your personal entrance ticket … Many ticket offices down the length of the hall and yet here we were, the only two people in line. Of great interest was the code of conduct one is expected to adhere to.  Respect all monks; all signage; do not litter; smoke; give money or sweets to children; or touch anything; wear respectful clothing; no flying of drones or filming with professional camera equipment; no nudity or using of fake tickets …

Tickets cost $37 each and $2 from every ticket goes to the local children’s hospital fund.  Ticket inspectors were positioned throughout the ancient city of Angkor Thom; this was still well way from where we were in town.  Our visit commenced on the causeway that leads to the south gate of the ‘’Great City of Angkor Thom’’, set over 10km² and once populated by over a million people. Here we had our first view of the large (1.5km x 190m wide) rectangular moat that surrounds the city.

On either side of the causeway were the 54 gods (on the left) and 54 demons (on the right) engaged in a tug of war against the forces of good and evil. Lea, not keen to cause offence had  her face mask below her chin at the ready!

At entrance to the South Gate

Once inside the Great City the first thing that struck us was its thickly forested nature and the huge tall trees in its midst.  This reminded Lea of a DVD she gave her English grandsons “Two Brothers” – a tale of two tiger cubs who find refuge in the jungles that grew up and smothered Angkor Thom after it was abandoned in the early 15 Century. It long remained a mystery why.  Angkor described as a ‘hydraulic city’ grew into the biggest city of the pre-industrial world.  Researchers tend to believe intense monsoon rains following a prolonged drought lead to widespread structural damage and its demise.

Mao first explained that inside the walls of the temples we were about to see were blocks of lava (to give them strength), while on the outside, like cladding, were the blocks of sandstone which the people then decorated and carved. All these blocks of stone had been quarried 50km away (at a Holy Mountain), floated down the Siam Reap river on bamboo rafts and dragged onto the site using elephants. He showed us the simple lifting device that the workers had used to enable trimming, shaping and smoothing of the blocks until they fitted near perfectly together; how they were interlocked together.

 

Scattered around us, in the forested surrounds of the “Great City’’ were sandstone blocks lying everywhere – waiting to be used at a future date in the restoration work being undertaken by archaeologists from different parts of the world. The ruins were ‘’discovered’’ by Frenchman- Henry Mouhot, an archaeologist in the 1860’s and many projects have been undertaken in past years. More recently in 2007 – 2010, once declared a World Heritage Site.  Angkor has been under the jurisdiction of UNESCO since 1992. 

We entered the grounds of the 12^th century Bayon Temple with its 54 towers (one for each of the provinces of Cambodia in existence at that time). The Bayon temple is also known as the ‘’face temple’’ because of the huge heads carved into the four walls of each tower. They kept watch over the kingdom. However, the temple takes its name after the banyan trees (fig trees) that years ago, prior to its restoration, had all but completely smothered it.  Just as amazing were incredible bas-reliefs (intricate stone etchings) on the temple walls, depicting every aspect of life in those far off days from wrestling matches to battles fought, and much more.

  

Much to George’s delight we came across the Temple monkeys (long tailed macaques) each sporting a small black tuft of hair on top of their heads. Playfully scrapping with each other and feeding on the contents of a packet of stolen loot – perhaps it was taken from a shrine.

   

Hot , very humid conditions with plenty of walking that we often avoided the steps rising steeply towards the sky and walked around these ancient buildings. In view weather conditions and our age – Mau had planned to take us to three   temples with rest periods and lunch between each. It was our enthusiasm to see around the next corner and our ability to withstand the heat that had us keep walking to see the Terraces of the Elephants where, under the watchful eye of King Jayavarman, ceremonies and parades took place. Close by on another large mounded area had been the court of law. We passed other impressive looking temples whose names elude us now. By then we were intent on visiting Ta Prohm (old man) better known as the “Jungle Temple” used in making of the film “Tomb Raider”, featuring Angelina Jolie who was not considered an action star – it now tops her list of best films. We will think of watching that one of these days… 

 

With its jumble of crumbling towers and walls, small courtyards and narrow passages, all bound by the root systems of huge trees, shrubs sprouting from its walls and stone blocks covered in lichen, this is probably the most atmospheric of all the temples in Angkor Thom. These large trees had to be left in place with major stabilisation and restoration work undertaken by a team of Indian archaeologists. The crane and scaffolding we could see on site suggested work of this nature was still ongoing.

Mao and our driver kept in communication to help cut down on all the walking and get us to temples out of walking distance. They ensured we were well hydrated with cold water and refreshing chilled wipes back at the car and by midday had us at a very pretty garden restaurant to enjoy a lovely lunch and relax for the hour. We were soon ready to get going and found the two of them resting up in hammocks in a ‘rest hut’.

It was time to spend the afternoon at Angkor Wat ‘’the mother of all temples’’’ or ‘’heaven on earth’’. The most enduring example anywhere in the world of ‘’humanity’s devotion to its gods’’. All temples face East towards the rising sun. Angkor Wat faces West, the direction of death. It was built as a mausoleum (or funeral temple) for King Suryavarman the 2nd.   Approaching Angkor Wat we could see the symbolic towers, each depicted by lotus bud flowers. There are 5 towers.

 We entered via the East entrance to Angkor Wat.

Once inside, we were shown the most famous of the bas-reliefs on view – the ‘’Churning of the Ocean of Milk’’ carved on the walls down the length of the east gallery. It depicted 88 asuras on the left holding the tail of a serpent and 92 devas with crested helmets holding the head the long serpent, together churning up the water of the seas.  The pillars   that held up the roof of this gallery were perfectly aligned to the human eye. Many decorated with a heavenly nymph or aspara dancer.

  

We saw some of the 3 000 asparas (or heavenly nymphs) in this temple. Each unique, carved into the walls and some unfinished.

We were unable to climb to the top of the temple as it happened to be Buddha Day – a day when access is forbidden.

George had a disquieting moment as we walked along a narrow passage. From beneath a covering of cloth below a shrine, appeared a hand – beckoning as if help required.  George stopped in his tracks and as Lea bumped into him; he indicated the hand!  Lea got the giggles and fled.   A Buddhist monk came out from under, beaming from ear to ear – had he realised he’d given us a fright? The incident left George somewhat bemused.

We were told the water filled moat surrounding the temple of Angkor Wat served the important purpose of preventing its collapse.  This belief held dear on the grounds that the moat ensured the foundation of alluvium, on which the temple had been built, remained wet. George was dubious!

It had been a fascinating day. Mau had been a great and attentive guide. By the time we got back to our hotel we were more than ready for a long shower and three for two beers stretched out on the loungers beside the pool.  Our primary mission had been accomplished. From a purely selfish point of view the semi-tourist free surrounds of Angkor Wat could not have suited us better, just as the fires in Greece and the tsunami in Malaysia had once done. However, for the local economy the full ramifications of coronavirus were likely to prove devastating. By now we had come to realise that globally 111 000 people had been infected and 3 800 people had died.  Italy was in lock-down and several other countries were following suit.    

 Day 13 – 9 March 2020

On the coach ride to Siem Reap, Sam had told us one of the town’s many attractions he’d enjoyed was learning about the rats used in Cambodia to detect land mines. Undoubtedly of interest, our ears pricked up.  We’d asked Mau and the Hotel desk about land mine rats and both had pointed us to a Landmine museum which didn’t sound right. We were busy with Angkor Wat. Today we booked out of our touring hotel and moved across to the hotel Lea, had booked through Hotel.Com for two nights.  With time in hand Lea googled landmine rats, Cambodia and up came Hero Rats and APOPO, the organisation clearing land mines, we booked on-line and waited for a designated time to visit.

 

We hopped into a tuk-tuk with our luggage and the doorman told the driver where to take us – Little Prince Resort seemingly a short distance away. As soon as we rolled up to the door, Lea knew it wasn’t right - Prince Hotel looked far too smart. Finding our Little Prince proved a lot more difficult than either we, or the most apologetic tuk-tuk driver could believe.  Hotel reception and other tuk-tuk operators were unable to point us in the right direction and the phone number Lea had was not working. Eventually we found the place tucked away in the back street of a shabby looking area close to the main road we had roamed up and down.  The hotel was lovely and Mr Charly close on hand via whatsapp. We had an enormous room, on the ground floor. The swimming pool running the length quadrangle with a wonderful tropical feel. We thoroughly enjoyed our time there.

Lea checked her emails and there was a 2.30 appointment that very afternoon for Hero Rats. Mr Charly had a tuk-tuk at the door for 1.30 and ‘’Sori’ took us to the Apopo Visitor’s Centre. It was closer than we thought and the lady on the door took our temperatures and promptly sent us to join a group just beginning a tour- we could pay later! Lea dashed back to Sori as we’d arranged for him to return and collect us close on 4pm. Sori was prepared to wait and Lea joined the small group of people to be shown around. The tour was most interesting and over in far too short a period!

An utter delight to see this trainee ‘’MDR’’ (mine detection rat) in action. Handlers become very attached to their rat ensuring it is well cared for. Sunscreen rubbed on tail and ears before work. Air- conditioned comfort, good food and rest between jobs.

Still rather shy, our trainee demonstrated her landmine exercise.  It reminded Lea of the childhood party game ‘find the treasure’.  Two handlers at either end of the Land mine area, marked out in a grid pattern sent Hero-Rat up and down each grid line sniffing. As soon as she began to dig, an audible click announced she was correct, and she ran to the nearest handler for her treat. Instantly rewarded with her favourite – banana!  On her return down the grid line if she confirmed the danger spot. She was rewarded again – this time, a peanut.

The African giant pouched rat is used for mine detection in countries such as Cambodia, Colombia, Angola, Mozambique and Zimbabwe were originally trained in Tanzania. In 2019 Cambodia had brought ten Hero Rats to help seek out mines and unexploded bombs along the Cambodia / Thailand border. There are thousands of plastic anti-personnel mines - undetectable to metal detectors, still buried in the soil effectively preventing the use of roads and land for agriculture and settlement.

Harnessed by a light rope, the rat systematically searches the area under investigation. Weighing only 1 – 1.5 kg they are light enough not to detonate the mines.  Trained to detect the explosives used (TNT) by smell the rats, clear land the size of a tennis court in the space of 3-4 hours. While the slow process of using a  detector takes 5-6 days. The rats only work in the very early hours of morning when they are most alert to their sense of smell and it cooler. After three to four hours of ‘work’ they are given four days off.  Out in the mine fields, wherever the rat digs, the spot is flagged, marked using a GPS and the mine later exploded by a demolition team. These are confident Hero Rats and know their business.

Working in partnership with the Cambodia Mine Clearance Centre and the Victims Assistance Authority the rats, to date, have directly benefited something like 3 500 people through early detection of hundreds of land mines; freeing up land for resettlement and farming.

Rats were first trained for the early detection of tuberculosis – a disease that, left undiagnosed, still affects millions of people throughout the world. Just as remarkable, in George’s holiday reading – Homo Deus by Harari he was later to come across Robo-rats.  Scientists have implanted electrodes into the sensory and reward areas of a rat’s brain. After short training sessions using remote controls, these rats can be made to do many things including things they normally dislike (there are ethical concerns of course in the wrong hands).  It is proposed Robo-Rats will prove to be most useful to Rescue teams in helping detect survivors trapped under collapsed buildings. And the army in locating bombs, booby traps, mapping underground tunnels and caves. 

2020 – Year of the Rat - We salute you. 

That evening, as the day cooled a bit, we asked Sori to take us on a ‘’city tour’’.  We travelled  through a variety of places - some horribly contaminated sections the Siem Reap River; past all the five star hotels (Cambodia’s Raffles included); along Siem Reaps famous ‘Pub Street’ with all its restaurants and a large market – Sori taken aback that we didn’t want to walk about this well-known tourist area. We were happy to walk in the grounds of a large well cared for monastery filled with ornate pagodas and stupas though …

In the grounds of the monastery – Siem Reap

As we drove around a city-park we were entranced by groups of 4 men along wide walkways playing some kind of kicking game. Sori stopped so we could walk up closer …  a larger than normal shuttle-cock was kept going back and forth in amazing eye/ foot co-ordinated manner – agility the key, as a foot twisted to the front, sideways and mostly from behind to keep the shuttlecock moving. Very popular sport and they all appeared to be champions.

In the avenue of beautiful trees alongside the park, George’s eye caught familiar the movement – Sori responded with birds, but George knew better, bats – they were flying foxes! Lea picked up their distinctive sound and we walked down for a closer look. They were just stirring for the night ahead but too far up in those beautiful trees to really catch on camera. Moving on as the light we travelled the main city streets out towards the Angkor Wat Visitors Centre where we’d bought our entrance tickets. From there on we were stunned at the sheer number of stalls setting up on along the route to the airport. These informal night markets strung out for miles on both sides of the main road as well as secondary roads running parallel lead away from the city and met the needs of local Cambodians. Carpets and mats filled areas around pop-up food kitchens for their clients to sit upon.  Night fell and we returned home along dusty dirt roads that wound through an area of filthy shack-lands into the city centre where nightlights were now dangling in beautiful shapes and colours making for beautiful scenes along the river!

We had pre-ordered dinner at the hotel and without another soul in the dining room enjoyed our meal – spring rolls for starters below the twisted tree carefully integrated into the architecture of the building. Cat arrived and began rubbing itself against George’s leg before wrapping itself around his sandals clawing them and biting them (just as Hilary’s cat Mephistopheles in Zimbabwe had done numerous times) finally ending with a sharp nip on his ankle! Why cats do this is a mystery unless it has something to do with the smell of his feet! Cat leapt onto his lap with second course arrived and we bribed him back to the floor with bits of chicken.

Day 14 – 10 March 2020

Last day!  Lea had treats in store at the hotel… During a late leisurely breakfast George noticed new blossoms on a tree and mentioned to Lea how like the frangipani tree, the different blossoms grew on. Not sure if this was his sense of humour; she looked at him askance! Our first day here we had gone to the far end of the pool, to a veranda overlooking its length. On either side were beautiful flowers that Lea stopped to feel and realised they were artificial! George mentioned he was going back to get his camera to take photos of the flowers. With nose in her book she thought no more of it. George recognises the ‘look’, hops up to check the flower and discovers to his horror he’d been taking photos of plastic flowers. Better get to Specsavers… All were fake - yet there he was photographing them as if they were botanical treasures!

 Frangipani (with pink and yellow plastic flowers) ... compared to the real thing.

The hotel had used a staggering amount of wood in the construction and furnishing of the hotel.  It was concerning when one took into consideration the number of trees that had been felled in the process, but also impressive in the way every scrap of wood has been utilized. The floors were all timber, the furniture all made from solid hardwood, cross-cut tree trunks used as seating, tree burls used for table legs and stumps turned into artwork. 

    

We spent a lazy morning lounging around the pool, having a dip in perfect temperature, whenever the humid heat became too much

Just before 1.00 pm, Lea took a final dip, changed and set off for a cooking lesson with the hotel chef, Tang Sina. The lesson took place on the hotel’s roof top where he has his vegetable garden. Lea learned to make a three course Cambodian meal. Chicken and Green Mango Salad, Fish Amok and Taro in Coconut milk. Just as well we hadn’t had lunch after such a big breakfast… Lea dashed down the many windy wooden stairs to call George to share the meal, Lea and Chef Sina had prepared together.  Chef Sina had us a chat with us; he’d worked in Dubai for a few years and explained Lea could use broccoli leaves in place of Noni leaf! Not something we know, and we rarely see broccoli leaves either!

To round off her afternoon Lea had a Khmer massage followed by a manicure up on another roof top in another section of the hotel and returned happy as a Cheshire cat!  Tomorrow would be a very long, tedious day of airports since our connecting flight from Singapore to Perth had been cancelled. Our new flight left us with a ten-hour layover in Singapore.  We packed our bags for pre breakfast departure before relaxing in the evening light by the pool and reflected on the hardship.  A last snack of spring rolls before bed 

Day 15 – 11 March 2020

Sori took us out to the airport in his tuk-tuk – a fine way to depart Cambodia with all the familiar sights, sounds and of course the smells we’d come to know. By 10.00 we were on our way to Singapore. Lesley, our wonderful Travel Agent had seen our flight change and immediately conferred with Air Singapore to allow us use of their Private Ambassador Lounge. Out of the blue, she advised we’d been granted a six-hour block of time for a meal, refreshments and a shower. She suggested we also consider one of the free city tours. On arrival we were again scanned for health issues before we found the kiosk for city tours. It was too late to join the next tour and the 4 pm was fully booked.  They suggested the 6 pm evening tour which would give us plenty of time to put Lea’s hand luggage in Lock-up.  We landed up being a bit betwixt and between walking to see the magnificent orchid garden and George slipped in to see the butterfly Garden.  By 5 we were back at the kiosk as ordered, hanging about with not enough seating and the long=winded process of being cleared by Immigration.   Finally, we were on the Jolly bus with our jolly guide who did his best to entertain along the route – we were tiring and preferred to look out at the scenery of Singapore, we hadn’t visited since 1994.

    

The first of two stops gave time to walk through a park down to esplanade and the famous Singapore Lion. We noticed many new changes to the landscape.

The second stop was taken in beautiful Garden’s Bay.  By now we were beginning to feel weak with hunger having skipped early morning breakfast and not inclined to eat the Silk Air meal provided on our Siem Reap to Singapore flight.  Once back at Changi Airport just after 8pm we were only too glad to take advantage of The Ambassador Lounge. Reception cleared us through quickly and efficiently. The lounge was busy but we spotted two comfortable chairs close to the food service area which was empty.  There, self-service was available with no limitations. George was fall down starving by then and immediately went to serve himself the tastiest peppered chicken and rice with selection of vegetables. All went down a treat, twice! The best three hours spent before we needed to get to our departure gate.  Our hearts dropped as we made our way to the very last seats at the back of the plane, bang up against the toilets!

Day 16 – 12 March 2020

Soon after the clock turned midnight into our sixteenth day - our packed plane taxied down the runway for the five-hour flight to Perth. It was very cold – we had foolishly packed jumpers in the hold and our blankets were stretched from head to toe to keep warm. The whooshing noise of toilet flushes added to the sleepless hours, but we were glad we were not surrounded by people! Arriving back in the cold light of a Perth dawn we were mighty surprised at how quickly we moved through Immigration and Customs with no health procedures. Called for an Uber taxi and happily made our way to our caravan- safe in storage. Hot tea before tumbling into bed to warm up and catch a little sleep before Lea had to go to the dentist! 

A Pandemic had been declared – we had arrived home just in time to avoid all the dramas that ensued as coronavirus COVID-19 brought Australia, and the rest of the world, to its knees. Lea told the Dental Receptionist that she’d had come in on an International flight four hours before- and the fear that crossed her face brought home a new reality. She dashed off to speak to the Officer in Charge – no one quite knew what to do. They phoned State Dentist HQ – and a check of where Lea had been and where temperatures had been taken enabled Lea to have her annual check-up with all precautions taken. Twelve days later the Dental Clinic followed up on the state of her health.

After the calm approach of Vietnam, Cambodia and Singapore we arrived back to a sense of confusion. We popped into the supermarket still without toilet paper – thanks to the panic buying we’d heard about over BBC news. We needed the basics to get us through two weeks of self-isolating in the caravan to ensure we hadn’t picked up the virus. The shelves were empty of pasta, tins of tomato and long-life milk too. We were in and out fast, ready to self-isolate. In the next two weeks we wrote up our blog and watched the small screen as the world changed.  The assassination of an American President had been a big event in our lives. We thought the events of 9/11 had changed the world.  Yet Nothing prepared us for the unbelievable impact of a virus.    Everything has been cancelled – the world has shut down and our lives are on hold. We feel like Chicken Licken did when ‘’the sky fell down’’ knowing there are dark and very difficult days ahead for millions all over the world.

We can but breathe a huge sigh that we were able to slip in a most memorable journey to SE Asia and return safely 

A totally new way of life for all of us, unfolds.