The tuk tuk drivers were waiting, just as they always are. “Tuk tuk?” “No thank you,” we replied, as always. “Maybe later?” they asked hopefully, as always. But it was not to be. We were leaving on a six-hour bus trip to Siem Reap and we would not return. Yesterday’s visit to the National Museum just about did it for Phnom Penh. We intentionally skipped the killing fields, the Shooting Range, as it is called on the tourist brochures. The world has enough violence and we didn’t fancy seeing the sight of another massacre.
Once we were out of the city we cruised past the rice paddies and stilt houses of rural Cambodia. I caught the eye of a 2 year old girl on the bus and the next thing I knew her granny put her on my lap. She encouraged her to reach into my pocket for money but the cupboard was bare. For a while I thought I would have to keep her but granny eventually took her back.
Our first rest stop was a filthy market. Young girls were selling pineapple and papayas while older women sat with bowls filled with grasshoppers and cooked giant spiders. Tempted as I was I managed to restrain myself.
