Sad to be leaving Siem Reap I boarded the bus to Phnom Penh and several hours later I found myself being assaulted by motto and tuk-tuk drivers. Each holding up a card of the guesthouse from which they get a commission for every customer they deliver safely. I got one of the quieter motto drivers to take me to the Last Home Guesthouse, which I soon realized was a short five-minute walk away. At the guesthouse I arranged (my motto driver arranged) to go to the Killing Fields of Choeung Ek and Toul Sleng genocide museum (S21), some of the gruesome reminders of the countries recent past. After visiting these and the national museum there doesn’t appear to be much to do, during the day at least. At night there are a seemingly endless number of bars to choose from.

After a few days I wanted to get out of the city and decided to head north to Kratie on the Mekong, home to the rare Irrawaddy dolphin. Two days later and I realized that the dolphins are the only things of interest in the town. And for the privilege of seeing their fins in the water you pay four dollars, half of which apparently goes straight to the police there.

Next I got a bus and then pickup to Sen Monorom in the Eastern province of Mondulkiri. I was happily squashed into the cab of the truck with only six other people, not including a baby. The French-Canadian couple I meet on the way were crammed back with everybody else and all the luggage. On one of the stops we counted at least thirty-two people not including infants and livestock, I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it. The town itself is a quite sleepy place in the middle of the mountains with views of forestry all around. There is little to do besides check out the local waterfalls and maybe go on a trek into the forest which is what we did.

It would be a great place to spend a week or two if it wasn’t for the complete absence of any bars or entertainment besides karaoke. The last night I spent there, the guesthouse put on a traditional minority show. A bizarre performance where tribe’s people played the same tune for about forty minutes while drinking rice wine from a jar. The rest of the guests, who were mostly from Phnom Penh, seemed to really enjoy it. Afterwards as always there was karaoke. The next day I got the comfortable if a little crowded bus all the way back to Phnom Penh and the Last Home guesthouse.