I had scheduled just two days in Phnom Penh and I was right. The city is overwhelming and it was so hot I could die. I downed more water and juices than I have ever gulped and saw it coming straight out of my pores, while I reluctantly moved in the sun trying to see the very few sights the city has to offer, apart from Tuol Sleng, the torture camp, and The killing fields, which were an experience in themselves. There are no words or pictures to describe what has happened there and the visit haunted me for days to come.
The Khmer Rouge stayed just four years in active power before the Vietnamese liberated the country, and yet what is most nerving is that they are still there. In the current government and on trial banks, still being judged after all these years. And of course this will go on until they all die of natural causes, they are all very old nowadays.

One third to one fourth of the population was exterminated or famished during the bloody regime, starting from the “year zero” 1975. There were hundreds torture camps like Tuol Sleng and hundreds of killing fields. And yet, while it all happened the Khmer Rouge invited journalists that were left with the best of impressions, which they brought back to their liberal countries, i.e. Sweden, and doubt gave the world a pretext to not interfere.
The visit to these Phnom Penh monuments is hard, but it helps put certain things into perspective…

As for the rest, I felt discomfort in the Ohanna hotel, in my room with a window looking at a wall at 50cm without a reason (the hotel was more or less empty) but the heat took the best of me and I skipped the unpleasant dialogue with the receptionists, that would have not understood the half of what I had to saya ny way…

So after visiting as best as I could the uninteresting Silver Pagoda where everything is silver but you can’t touch it, take pictures of it or walk on it. Cool… On my way to the Costa café I turned back when I saw a monster cockroach dead on the stairs, and decided that my visit to Phnom Penh had just come to an end.

The long road to Kampot and my first ever female guide would be waiting for me at the hotel reception, and you can’t keep a lady waiting!

The pictures

The postcards

His name is Ringo