Normality

A year to the day after I left for Rio to start my world trip, and here I am. Back in Birmingham, unpacked and settling back into life.

I'm loving how normal everything is. I got up, put on my dressing gown and made myself a cup of tea in my favourite mug, had my favourite cereal for breakfast, used my laptop, put toilet paper into the toilet and not into a bin, and used my UK number on my phone. All tiny things that mean nothing in real life, but are lovely to come back to after a year.

Yesterday I was very tired, but made it til 9pm, having been picked up at the airport by my mum and brother (complete with a flashy balloon) an had a proper lamb roast dinner followed by apple crumble and custard. It was so good.

I only had four hours' sleep in 42 hours though, so I was a bit delirious by the evening. I woke up at 6.30am this morning and was raring to go.

I haven't quite digested everything I did on my year, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to, but I'm going to try. There's plenty of time for quiet reflection. For now, there's far too much food to eat!

Timewarp

Back in Bangkok! Back in Bangkok for the third and final time of my trip. I don't even like it that much, I just gravitate here for flights to leave it. 

But anyhow, I'm staying in the same hostel as I did the first two times (Loftel 22). It's exactly the same and they're really nice and it feels like coming back to a home. When it's actually the first stepping stone to going back to real home. 

I just went and got street food (noodle soup) from my favourite vendor round the corner and then had a shower (Luang Prabang was really hot today and Bangkok seems to be forever humid). Tomorrow, which is my last day of the trip, I'm meeting my friend who I met here before for the afternoon and we're going to have dinner before I go to the airport in the evening. 

The last time I was sitting on a bed in this hostel I was with Laura. We were planning our month-long trip around Asia, and now that's over, and so is my year-long trip around the world. 

I'm so conflicted, and one minute I'm so looking forward to being at home, and the next I realise how sad I'll be to leave the travelling lifestyle and settle into a more mundane *normal* routine. But the nice thing is that every traveller I've spoken to gets what I'm feeling right now. Whenever I mention that it's the end of my trip people ask me how I'm feeling about it, and when I say I've been travelling for a year their mouths normally drop open in a rather comical way. Everyone is heading towards this inevitability, and everyone wants to know what it's like. 

One thing is for sure, I'm so glad I finished my trip in Luang Prabang. It's a fantastic place and I hope my life takes me back there one day. All that's left is a day in Bangkok with my friend, and the next day I'll be home in Birmingham. Having tea with my family and drinks with my friends, curries with the old curry gang, and Just Dance sessions with my brother, massive roast dinners, free run of my entire wardrobe, open fires and TV in my dressing gown, and trips around the UK for various long-overdue reunions. 

Am I excited? 

Hell yes I am. 

Crisis

I HAVE FOUR DAYS LEFT. 

It's hitting me like a tonne of bricks, subsiding, and then comes smashing down on me again. 

After not enjoying Vietnam, and finding myself counting the days until I was home, I thought I was just fed up of travelling. But coming to Laos and experiencing the different pace of life here has reignited something within me. 

I love hopping off planes, trains, buses, tuk-tuks and exploring beautiful places, having no responsibilities except for myself, meeting new people and seeing things I've dreamt of for years. 

And on Thursday all that will change. 

It will be lovely to see my family, my friends, my home, with all my home comforts that I can't deny I've yearned for at times over the last 12 months. I'm looking forward to that, perhaps more than I realise at this precise moment. But what it means is that my life won't be special anymore. Or not how I've gotten used to it being - constantly on the move, always looking forward to the next spectacular destination. It's been tiring, bewildering, frustrating, and the best year of my life. 

Luang Prabang

Oh I love Luang Prabang! I was praying that the last few days of my trip would be good, after Vietnam turned out to be such a disappointment, and Laos has delivered. 

It's a pity I only have time to just do here, and not travel around Laos more, but I'd heard that LP is the place to be. And I can see why. 

The old city is tiny, sitting comfortably between the mighty Mekong and one of its tributaries, which are crisscrossed by bamboo bridges. It's a traveller's dream, with impressive temples, French cafés and bakeries, a large night market, and Buddhist monks who stroll the cobbled streets beneath the palm trees, all surrounded by forested mountains. It has a really relaxed vibe, and the sun has come out for my last few days of travelling. Gotta work on that tan or no one will believe I've been away! 

The town is small, but there's plenty going on. I just want to drink in the atmosphere wherever I go. When I get to a new city I love to just wander aimlessly and see what's going on. Luang Prabang is a great place to get lost. 

After the pushiness of Vietnamese people I was so happy to find Laotians much more chilled out and polite. When you walk into a shop or pass by a stall they don't immediately jump on you and start pestering. Someone needs to spread the word that this is not a good selling technique for Westerners. 

There's a very popular bar here called Utopia, which is recommended in all the guidebooks, and I went there on my first night with some people I met in the hostel. It has a nice atmosphere, with cushions and low tables right on the riverside. I think I might go there on my last night and have a cocktail, and reflect on the last year. 

Today I took a minivan to Kouang Si waterfalls (35,000 kip + 20,000 entry) and was not expecting them to be as beautiful as they were. From the photos I'd seen it looked very similar to Erawan Falls near Kanchanaburi, Thailand, but the actual tumbling waterfalls were much more stunning here. I was a bit blown away by them. The actual splash pools are prettier at Erawan, but it made for a lovely hike up to the top and back down for lunch and an ice cream. 

I realised as I was hiking back down from the top how happy I've been the past year. There have been lows, of course, but I've loved the freedom of travelling. Luang Prabang is the perfect place for me to chill and just enjoy my last few days. I can't recommend it enough. 

Sapa

Sapa is a mountain town nestled right on the Chinese border in the north of Vietnam. It's popular with backpackers and tourists because it's a great setting-off point for treks in the surrounding area that include visits to ethnic minority villages. 

It is an absolutely beautiful place, with views of mountains, waterfalls, steep terraced rice paddies dropping into valleys, and rivers cutting through the landscape. So it's beautiful, when you can see all that. 

In January and February, the cloud level is so low that the whole town is inundated with freezing mist, often for days on end. I knew the weather wasn't going to be good, but I had heard such good things, and don't intend to ever visit Vietnam again, so I decided to just go for it. 

And it was bloody freezing. 3C and cloud so thick that for the first day I was there the furthest I could see in front of me was 10 metres. It was the worst visibility I've ever experienced, and the cold was a bit of a shock to the system. I wondered why I was doing this to myself, when I'm going home to the UK's winter in a week. 

But despite the weather, I did enjoy my time in Sapa. I took the night train from Hanoi to Lao Cai, which took 8.5 hours and cost US$29 for the bottom bunk of a six-person compartment (hard-sleeper). I'd done a hard-sleeper in China and it was perfectly comfortable, but being on the middle bunk then I knew I wanted to be on the bottom. The Vietnamese train wasn't as comfortable as the Chinese, but despite the centimetre thick mattress I slept very well. 

I'd arranged to be picked up by my hostel ($3) so a minivan met me at Lao Cai station and we drive the 45 minutes up to Sapa. It's a very winding road, but the views are incredible. Just as we approached Sapa itself, that's when the clouds closed in and the view was lost. 

I had three full days in Sapa, so on the first day I just wandered around the town and marvelled and how wet my clothes were getting just from walking around. I was really glad I still had my scarf and gloves from New Zealand, because otherwise I'd have been buying a new wardrobe for the three days. 

I met a British girl by an ATM, as you do, and we explored the town together. It's interesting crossing roads when you can only see a few metres in any direction. But thankfully Sapa is relatively quiet, bar the constant squawking of the old minority women who sell their wares and offer you homestays with their families. We ended up in Le Gecko, and I treated myself to some mulled wine, one of my winter favourites back home. The weather called for it. 

Once she left to get her bus I met up with an American guy I met in Hoi An and we went for dinner and a drink (I may have had another mulled wine) before I went back to rest up for my day trek the following day. 

The trek was really cool, but extremely muddy. A couple of our group slipped over, and spent the rest of the day a beautiful shade of clay brown. For the first half of the trek, as we made our way down the mountain, we were helped along by a group of Black Hmong women (one of the local tribes), who held our hands when it was slippy and told us where to walk. I was suspicious of this, because nobody does anything for free in Vietnam, and sure enough when we reached their village for lunch they pulled out their handicrafts and bracelets, and pestered us to buy. I point blank refused because I didn't want anything they were selling and because I felt like I was being emotionally blackmailed into buying something. It was hideously awkward, but the women had made it awkward. We didn't ask for their help. After a good 25 minutes of hassling me they finally gave up. It's often easier just to buy something to make them go away, but I was so fed up of Vietnam and its people by this point I stuck to my guns. I felt like a douche, I'm not going to lie, but I stuck to my principles. 

The good thing about the trek is that we went down below the clouds so we could actually see our surroundings. Although it was still misty, the rice fields cut into the mountainsides were a stunning sight. I do recommend a trip up to Sapa for that, even if the weather is awful. 

After the trek I met two Dutch women I'd met on my Halong Bay cruise, and afterwards went out for dinner (and mulled wine, obviously) with some of the guys from my hostel in Hoi An, plus someone I'd met in Sapa. That afternoon the clouds lifted for about ten minutes and I was actually able to see how nice Sapa is as a town, and some of the mountains in the distance. It must be stunning to be there in summer. 

I spent my last day there chilling in cafés, reading and staring out at the swirling mist. Then it was time to get the minibus to Lao Cai, have dinner, and watch Chicken Run on my iPod on the sleeper train back to Hanoi. All told, Sapa ain't half bad, even in winter. 

Halong Bay

My boat trip on Halong Bay was easily a highlight of Vietnam. Being one of the New Seven Natural Wonders of the World, you know it's going to be impressive, but who you're with on the tour can be hit and miss. Luckily I met some really cool people. I was the only one travelling alone, so thank god there were people I got on with. Plus I got a private cabin to myself. Always a bonus. 

I knew the weather wasn't going to be perfect. While the majority of SE Asia enjoys a warm, dry season from December to February, northern Vietnam throws its toys out of the pram and shrouds itself in chilly mist. So I was hoping for dry weather, even if the limestone peaks would be covered in fog. And I got it! It was chilly on the boat, particularly at night, but overall comfortable weather. 

I didn't mind the mist. I came to the conclusion that it would be nicer in the sun, but the mystique that the mist gave the mountains, that loomed out at you as you approach, was pretty special as well. Waking up to that view was incredible, even if there was no sunrise to speak of. 

On the first day we left Hanoi and drove the four hours to Halong City where we transferred to the boat. We had lunch onboard and then visited Surprising Cave. I won't spoil the surprise, but don't get your hopes up too much. Apparently this cave is better than the other option, Dragon Cave. It was beautiful, and it was lit up with different colours. There's a nice view from a gap in the top of the cave too. 

There was then the option to go kayaking, or to sit on the boat for 45 minutes. Wooo. 

There was a really random pre-dinner 'party' that we were all called to, at 5.59pm sharp. They played intense techno music and had the disco ball flashing, and promptly turned them off for dinner at 7pm. Post-dinner there was karaoke (with nothing newer than Like A Virgin) and people dispersed to the 'sundeck' to chill for the evening. 

The following morning we visited a pearl farm, which was interesting to a point, but of course was mainly a shop for tourists. We are in 'Nam after all. 

As with all tours, you find people who paid varying prices for exactly the same thing. I met people who'd paid as little as US$85 for the same two-day one-night trip as I paid $110 for. But I didn't shop around, and for the ease of it just booked of through my hostel. Partly because of 'it's the end of my trip I can't be bothered anymore' laziness, and partly due to knowing I could trust the hostel's endorsements because I'd read positive reviews online. Whether that was worth the $25 commission they took, I'm not thinking about. You can of course find trips a lot cheaper than that, but how safe the boats are you don't know. There are stories of deaths from sinking vessels on the traveller grapevine. 

As with a lot of experiences travelling solo, you can be in an incredible place, but what makes it is the people you meet. And that's why I'm so in love with travelling alone. 

Hanoi'd

At first I really liked Hanoi. I was staying in the middle of the Old District, a frenetic maze of small winding streets lined with markets, vendors with their wares spread out on bamboo mats, and constantly clogged by tourists and motorbikes. The French District near the lake is also very pretty, and worth a good wander round. When I was sitting by the lake a Vietnamese guy came and sat next to me and talked to me for about half an hour, I assume to practise his English. Although he did ask if I wanted a free motorbike tour of the city, or to visit his cousin's restaurant. Unsurprisingly I declined. 

I enjoyed Hanoi for the day I was there, but by the evening it was wearing me down. It's nowhere near as full on as Saigon, but there's the same motorbike madness and constant heckling from people selling things on the street that you get all over Vietnam, just in a more confined space. The atmosphere is electric, but more like an electric chair than a pleasant buzz. 

I was glad to be out of the city for my trip to Halong Bay. 

But while I'm on the subject of complaining, let me explain why I'm just not feeling Vietnam. 

It may well be because I was travelling with two of my best friends for a month, and they went home just before I entered Vietnam; and my friends who have been here before built it up so much I was really excited about coming here. So I'm well aware there are factors influencing my opinion. 

But this is what I feel at the moment: Vietnamese people are pushy, unfriendly and the most dishonest people I've ever come across, I feel constantly ripped off (much more so than elsewhere in Asia), the language is irritating, the sights are underwhelming and not as special as elsewhere I've visited, the food is mediocre, the traffic is horrendous and makes walking anywhere a marathon, and the cities feel unsafe and pickpocketing and mugging are more common than in its neighbours. And it's expensive to boot. 

Now I've vented those feelings, it's not all bad. 

It's a relatively easy country to get around, and has a good infrastructure of buses and trains (although the quality of roads is often poor), and the fact that it uses the Roman alphabet like English makes getting around and asking for directions much easier. There are also good metered taxis. Mai Linh and Vinasun are normally quoted as the most reputable, although I've heard of people being asked for tips - I was asked for a tip when I'd prepaid my hostel for the taxi ride (I did not give a tip) - and tourists being told that when the meter reads 50.0, that means 500,000 when you actually multiply it by 1,000, so it's 50,000. I've also had Mai Linh drivers refuse to use the meter and made me agree to a price double what it should've been. 

It's a tiring country to be in, when vendors won't take no for an answer and see you as walking ATMs. I was once told by a motorbike driver that the hostel I was looking for (and was about a 30-second walk down the road) was far away and he'd take me there. Thankfully I'd been in Vietnam long enough to know that most of what you hear from people selling things is lies. 

At the end of my year-long trip, I would rather just chill and make the most of my freedom, rather than constantly having to firmly reject people as I walk down the street. Hopefully Luang Prabang will offer me the respite I'm after for my last few days of travelling. 

Maybe it's to do with Vietnam's long history of bad encounters with foreigners - with France's colonisation and then the American War - but it's not only white tourists who get similar treatment. 

It's a pity I feel this way. I'd much rather love every country I visit, and to be honest this is the first country I've actively disliked. But having said all that, my Vietnam highlights have been Hoi An, Halong Bay and Sapa. I'll look back at them with fond memories. 

Hue and the DMZ

Hue and the DMZ

After Hoi An I spent two nights in Hue, a four or five-hour bus journey north from Hoi An. I'm having to do my stops quite quickly as I'm squeezing Vietnam into two weeks in order to fit a few days in Luang Prabang in at the end of my trip. Considering my feelings towards this country I'm quite glad I only budgeted two weeks here. If I hadn't booked my flight to Laos already to make sure the price didn't go up, I probably would've shot out and spent more time in Laos. I did decide not to visit Da Lat, the Mekong Delta, and the beach resorts of Nha Trang and Mui Ne, however, so I can't comment on them. 

Hue is... okay. It's a relatively happening city, but in terms of sights it's limited to the Citadel in the city centre (like a toy version of Beijing's Forbidden City) and the mausoleums on the outskirts. Many travellers skip Hue altogether, but I was keen to see the Demilitarised Zone (DMZ) that is easily reachable by day tour from Hue. 

The DMZ was a stretch of land that divided north and south Vietnam during the American War. It was the scene of a lot of bloodshed and bombing, and is also home to the Vinh Moc tunnels, an underground system of passageways that villagers lived in for six years, complete with family rooms, maternity rooms, toilets and a meeting room. It's spread across three levels between 12 and 23m below ground. It's more spacious and less claustrophobic than the Cu Chi tunnels in the south. 

The tour cost $17, although you might be able to find it cheaper if you shop around. It was interesting, but only just worth the amount of driving. It was a 12 hour day, and around six hours of that was sitting on the bus. 

The next day I took the bus back to Da Nang to catch my flight up to Hanoi. It's so much cheaper to fly from Da Nang than from Hue, so the $4 bus journey and $5 taxi from the city to the airport is definitely worth it if you have the time and want to save around $80 on the flight ticket. 

Incidentally, Vietnam's sleeping buses are relatively comfortable. You can get open-tour bus tickets between popular destinations and effectively hop-on and hop-off as you traverse the length of the country. You get an individual seat/bed that reclines and has space for a small bag or your shoes under the headrest. The back is less comfortable though, with two layers of five beds side by side with no barrier between them. There's also less room to move around. So if you can, ask for a seat towards the front of the bus to avoid being crammed in with strangers at the back. 

Thank God for Hoi An

I'm going to try not to be too negative about Vietnam, because so many people I've spoken to rave about it and have been back multiple times. But it's my least favourite place out of my year-long trip where I've visited 14 countries. 

I'm sure I'll vent some of my issues with it throughout the next few blog posts. However, Hoi An is lovely. 

I was there for three nights last week and it's so chilled I could have stayed there for a week. It's an architectural treasure trove, with buildings of Vietnamese, Chinese, Japanese and European styles, and sits along the banks of a river. It's famous for its silks and tailoring, the wonderful Japanese Covered Bridge, and its nighttime views of the lights over the water. I made sure I was there for the full moon, because you can buy paper lanterns and float them down the river for good luck. It's a beautiful sight. The hostel I stayed at was really cool (Saclo Homestay), and the owner Lena took everyone into town and recommended a place for dinner. I met some really cool people who I later met up with in northern Vietnam. If you can find it, the restaurant she recommended was Bale Well, an all you can eat affair for 110,000VND, where they literally hand-fed us for the first few spring rolls they were showing us how to make. The atmosphere was great, and we were all stuffed. 

The weather wasn't ideal when I was there, but there are beaches about 4km from the town centre, and offshore islands you can easily get to by bicycle (most places rent them out for $1/day). 

Hoi An is quite expensive for Vietnam, and Vietnam is an expensive country compared to the rest of SE Asia. But I found it absolutely worth it. One guy I met was there for a week, and it's a tiny place. Just with a really calm atmosphere that the bigger cities here are sorely lacking. 

Saigon

Saigon is manic. Not to Bangkok standards, but the steer amount of motorbikes makes getting anywhere a challenge. 

To cross the roads you have to walk into the oncoming wave of traffic (the motorbike drivers are well-trains in swerving around you, the car drivers are not), stop in the middle, do the same again, and then when you think you've reached safety motorbikes will drive up onto the pavement and honk at you to avoid them. Pedestrians are definitely the underclass when it comes to Vietnamese roads. 

I spent two nights there and that was enough. I had a few things I wanted to do, and an evening, full day, and a morning before my flight to Da Nang, was plenty. 

As soon as I arrived I booked a day trip to the Cu Chi war tunnels through my hostel. It cost US$6 plus $5 entrance fee. They're a good two and a half hour drive from District 1 of Saigon, but it's quite eye-opening. I'd never studied the Vietnam War (or the American War as it's known here) before so I was keen to see the history. 

The tunnels were used by Viet Cong soldiers to escape the American troops, and they stayed in tiny spaces underground (made so larger Caucasians couldn't fit) all day and only came out at night. You can go into an original tunnel if you can fit, or a widened version for tourists. I took one look at the entrance to the original one and knew I wasn't going to squeeze into it. The people who did were harassed by bats inside, so I feel I made the right decision. 

They also show you some of the ingenious jungle traps that the Vietnamese engineered, and it's no wonder that so many films have been made about the Vietnam War. It's straight out of a fantasy novel, or a nightmare. 

After crawling through the tourist tunnel (it's 100m long, but with a way out after 20m), they show you a short documentary on the war. Take it with a punch of salt. It's extremely biased. It described the American Army as a "crazy band of devils". I thought this was laughable until I went to the War Memorial Museum that afternoon (they dropped those of us who wanted to go there after the tour), and saw how utterly pointless the American involvement in Vietnam was. However, the film was so blatantly anti-American and pro-Communist it was difficult to take its message entirely seriously. 

The War Memorial Museum was a barrel of laughs too. Having been to the Genocide Museum in Phnom Penh a couple of days earlier I left hating humanity. After stories, with graphic photos to boot, of the atrocities of the American soldiers - disembowelling women and children, and the effects of the tonnes of dioxin (Agent Orange) that were dropped on the country as a wartime experiment, I was very much on the side of the Vietnamese. 

It also had exhibits about the French occupation and the suffering of the Vietnamese people. 

All very intense. 

The following morning I went to the Reunification Palace, which only got interesting at the end when you see the bunker underneath, with its old communications equipment and original wall maps. 

I then flew from the mania of Saigon to Da Nang airport, where I headed straight for the oasis of Hoi An. 

I decided to fly around Vietnam as much as possible, because the roads are such poor quality it takes over 15 hours to get pretty much anywhere, and Saigon to Hoi An by bus is 26 hours. Domestic flights are very cheap. You can find tickets online for as little as US$20 if you're lucky. Flights are often delayed or cancelled though. This one was delayed by three hours, and my Da Nang-Hanoi flight had a schedule change and was made later. They did email me two days on advance though. Well done VietJet Air! 

Cambodia to Vietnam Overland

After spending an extra day in Phnom Penh to get over my dodgy stomach (granola and salad sorted me out), I ventured into Vietnam. 

There are several options for crossing the land borders, including minivans and an assortment of buses. I went for the Mekong Express, which I found to be very good. It cost US$14 through my hostel Phnom Penh to Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon), and took eight hours including border procedures. 

They did mess up my booking and had me down as going back to Siem Reap, but thankfully they had a spare seat at the back. 

I'd heard stories of a lot of corruption at Cambodian land borders, but going out I had no problem. I did see a guy sitting near me slip the officer who took our passports at the start of the journey a $1 note, and surprise surprise his name was the first to be called when we arrived at the border gate.  

My passport was also the very last to be called on the Vietnam side, and I was concerned they'd ask me to pay for them to "find it". But my faith in humanity stood up and it all went smoothly. 

A few hours later we pulled into Saigon (it's quicker for me to write the old name Saigon than Ho Chi Minh City, but don't call it Saigon in the north of Vietnam - apparently that can cause offence. People have long memories). 

And my first taste of Vietnam was to follow. 

Genocide and Goodbye

On my last day with the girls, in Phnom Penh, we made the fantastic decision to visit the Killing Fields and the Genocide Museum before our emotional farewell. It was the only time we had to do it, but it was still poorly timed. 

The Killing Fields were not how I'd foreseen them in my overactive, possibly Tolkien-inspired imagination. The barren wasteland swirling with mist, mud pools popping and splattering crosses sticking out of the bloody earth was replaced by a pleasant green stretch of land dotted with trees and shrubs. The only thing that tells you this will be a sombre experience is the towering shrine in the centre, consisting of 17 levels, each one filled with human skulls. 

The Khmer Rouge genocide was something I barely knew anything about, so I was really keen to learn the history. I'm so glad I did it, but it was beyond horrific. Three million people killed for nothing. 

The Genocide Museum, set in a former high school that became a prison known as S-21, was just as harrowing. But I can't recommend them enough. Just to get a feel for what the Cambodian people went through, just forty years ago. And it explains why there's such a big gap in the ages of people you see on the street. 

You can do both within three or four hours, and a tuk-tuk driver will take you to both and back to your hostel for around US$20. 

Then, with our hearts in our socks, I said goodbye to Laura and Nat after an amazing month. We saw so many unforgettable things, and I'm so glad they got to see a bit of my bizarre reality travelling the world. Travelling alone has its perks, and I still believe is the best way to see the world, but it was lovely to have two of my best friends with me. What a month. 

A Bad Day Travelling...

People say that a bad day travelling is always better than a good day at work. 

Those people have obviously never done the six-hour minivan journey on the world's worst road between Siem Reap and Phnom Penh with diarrhoea. 

I was wishing for a cosy desk job the whole way! That road is notoriously bad, and I could see why. My head hit the roof of the van on several occasions, and our driver (as with all over SE Asia) had no regard for safety, and almost drove us into oncoming traffic many times. 

But it was the price that swayed us. It was US$13 for the minivan or $38 for a speedboat. I wanted to do the boat to see the Tonle Sap and the scenery, but coming to the end of my trip I have to make sure I have enough money to do everything I want to do. 

You know what they say. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. 

Raiding the Tombs

After the delights of Burma, both expected and unexpected, I hoped that Cambodia would live up to the hype for the last section of our trip as a three. And what do you know, it did! 

We flew to Siem Reap via Bangkok Don Mueang (the lame airport, which turned out to not be too shabby at all). Unfortunately I ate some "chicken" at a restaurant called Mr Chef on our last night in Yangon, which I'm pretty sure was street-dog, and I had a rather unpleasant couple of flights. 

The illness lasted until Phnom Penh, and rendered me unable to eat anything other than bread and steamed rice. I count myself lucky, because apart from a stomach bug I got a couple of months ago in Tokyo, I'd been illness free for my whole year away. 

So on an empty stomach we set off and spent two days exploring the wonders of Angkor. 

It's exactly what you imagine and what you've seen in photos. Crumbling sandstone decorated with intricate patterns, designs and depictions of ancient times, all against the dry, exotic backdrop of the Cambodian jungles. Many temples were fighting a losing battle with nature, some with tree roots thicker than me twisting round and crushing the stone. 

Not all the temples were amazing, but some highlights were Angkor Wat (unoriginal, maybe, but impressive all the same), Ta Phrom (where Tomb Raider was set), Banteay Sray (beautifully pink against the greens of the foliage), and the Bayon, the centrepiece of Angkor Thom. 

For me the one that blew me away was the Bayon, because I hadn't seen photos of it, so didn't know what to expect. But it's extremely impressive, and a maze to explore, which was great fun. We felt like Lara Croft, square breasts and all. 

Sometimes I wish I could un-see pictures of famous sights so I'd be more impressed when I see them in person. Some things are too mind-blowing in the flesh for it to matter, most notably Iguassu Falls. No pictures could prepare me to stand in front of that. 

Siem Reap itself is a really funky place. We all commented on how liveable it would be, and how surprisingly developed it was. That may have been in comparison to Burma though, where even Yangon  is several strides behind the other South-East Asian capitals. Still funny to see a Costa in Siem Reap though (and a Domino's in Phnom Penh). 

My dad saw Cambodia around 15 years ago, and said that Siem Reap was a small village hidden in the jungle, and Angkor was only just becoming a popular tourist destination. I don't think there was a Costa there back then. 

I wish we'd had more time in Siem Reap (and in Cambodia in general), but alas the girls had flights to catch from Phnom Penh, so we made our way there after just three nights. 

As an aside, the visa on arrival for Cambodia (arriving at Siem Reap airport at least) costs US$30, or $32 if you don't have a passport-sized photo for your application. 

And the immigration person giving our passports back was the most entertaining official I've ever come across. He took one look at my photo and insisted it wasn't me. 

I would have appreciated it more if I wasn't fighting the urge to run back to the toilet.