The Wild Wild We(s)t

Wow.

What an amazing day.

The coastline here, on the northeasterly tip of the Gulf of Thailand, is so stunning.

And I’ve been hugging it all day.

Literally, and metaphorically.

It’s warm, but it’s not too hot. The rain has cooled down the land, just enough.

It feels so good to be back on my bike again.

My body feels a little better today. I’m not exactly sure if that’s because my body’s a little better today, or because I’m getting used to the pain, and the limitations in movement that go with it.

Just lugging my panniers down to my bike and loading them up was a challenge this morning, aggravating my shoulder, and causing quite a bit of pain in the early part of my ride today.

But it seemed to loosen up a bit as the day went on, and my attitude to it is changing - I’m just not as concerned with it as I was - I know it’ll heal up eventually, and I’m just relieved I can still actually ride for a full day, and hopefully will make it to the border before my visa runs out.

Leaving Bangkok

It wasn’t straightforward getting down to Pattaya on the train with my bike, I can tell you.

Even though I’d already chatted with rail staff the previous week, who told me it was no problem to take my bike on the train, when I got down to the station at sparrow’s fart yesterday, to take the only daily train down to Pattaya, I discovered that, in fact, there was no luggage carriage on the train at all.

So my only option was to lift my bike and all my luggage onto the 3rd class passenger seating carriage.

That wasn’t easy, with my current injuries, and there was no one to help.

My bike got stuck between the narrow carriage entrance, and the turn into the carriage itself. The only way I could get it in was to stand it upright on its back wheel, to get it around the corner.

What a bloody drag, given my injuries. My shoulder was dead after all that.

And of course I had to repeat the process at the other end, and constantly move my bike around on board to allow passengers access to the seat across from me.

Whilst on the train I changed my destination to the last stop on the line, in order to give myself enough time to get everything out. The gruff conductor was a bit snooty about it, but I knew it’d be ok.

Bloody farangs and their crazy ideas.

But it was a great old train.

It stopped at every station, sometimes people would just jump on from the track outside the actual station. All sorts of crew were on there.

It was pretty full too at times, people getting on and off left right and centre.

Generally the passengers were the poorer people, those who can’t afford to take the quicker and more expensive buses or vans.

The wrong side of the tracks

Students at King Mongkut’s Institute of Technology

My brekky - glutinous rice sweets, peanut brittle, green mango, and jam bikkies. Sweet surrender.

So great to see some green back in the land

And finally, my middle-of-nowhere end-of-the-line station, Ban Plu Tha Luang.

I loaded up, gingerly got onto my bike, and rode off.

Aaaah.

Yeah, I’m sore, but it feels good. It feels really good.

It didn’t take me long to get to the coast.

I made it all the way to Rayong, maybe 50 clicks or so along the coast, and went to town buying food at the markets. I was starving.

Dried fish

Thap Samet

I’m really back in small town, untouristed Thailand now.

And you know I love that.

This is the same Sukhumwit Road that runs through Bangkok, all those miles away.

I stopped a few times along the beautiful coast today.

It really was a stunning ride, long stretches of road running right along the beachfront. There was a slight breeze, it was hot, but not too hot.

There was even a bike track in parts.

I spent brunch sitting on a small plastic tarp handed to me by the woman from the little food stall, tucking into khao pad phak kai (fried rice with vegies and egg), and just quietly watching the world go by.

Which seems to be what a lot of people do around here.

There’s not a lot of activity going on, many people seem to just sit around and chat and eat and basically don’t seem to do a lot at all.

Well that’s what it looks like from my angle.

They’re quite poor, but not in the time department.

I had yet another cha yen on the beachfront, made by a young guy in a van, who was sitting in a comfy chair looking at his phone when I arrived, and then after handing me my drink, got straight back into the chair and stayed there.

Nothing else to do.

He did, however, kindly give me a massive plastic cup full of iced water as I left, just to cool me on my way. So sweet.

Reclamation

The pier to the small tourist island of Koh Samet. The island’s only 200 kms from Bangkok, close enough for city folk to go there for the weekend, or for a quick holiday break. It’s full of Thai tourists, not as many farangs go there.

I went there in the 90s, and there’s 2 things I mainly remember about it.

Firstly, I met an English woman there, Marion, who was very very English, I say I say, and who’d just come straight out of a European winter. When we went to the beach and got into our swimmers I noticed that her skin was so white that it was almost translucent, you could see her veins clearly. That skin hadn’t seen the sun for a long time.

What amazed me was that the local young Thai guys there couldn’t get their eyes off her. They were absolutely smitten with her pure white skin, to the point where they kept bumping into each other when they were trying to play beach volleyball, because they were so distracted.

It was pretty funny.

But it’s just an example of what Asians generally regard as skin beauty - the whiter the better. They have all sorts of creams and pastes and cosmetic procedures to whiten their skin, all gleefully marketed by cosmetics companies.

I mean, it’s no different to the West, and our obsession with olive or tanned skin, tanning clinics, and all the rest of that superficial rubbish.

The second thing I remember about Koh Samet was meeting an older English man at a restaurant, and his young Thai wife. We chatted for ages, and he invited me to their large private bungalow for lunch the next day.

His wife served us a really delicious Thai meal, and we ate and chatted together. The old guy drank a lot. He wasn’t at all respectful of his wife, who was at least 30 years younger than him. He basically treated her like a servant, and she seemed to comply with his every whim without question.

After lunch, when she got up to clear the dishes, I thanked her for cooking such a delicious meal. The old guy quickly responded, saying words to the effect of, “yeah, she’s a fucken good cook, and she’s got great tits too,” and suddenly grabbed the top of her dress and pulled it down to reveal her breasts.

She quickly covered herself, cursed in Thai, and looked at him as if she wanted to kill him. I’m sure it wasn’t the first time he’d done something fucked up like that to her. She immediately ran off, and didn’t come back.

It was really horrible. I didn’t know what to say to the wanker. I just left soon after.

That’s the sort of thing that inequality and privilege, coupled with complete impunity, creates.

Pretty hard not to see me gain around here

Dead, decomposing motel

Another view of Koh Samet

My guest house was in the back blocks. I loved it.

Live rubber

Wonderful white wat

Dinner spot

Haad Chao Lao

The next day was another day of immense coastal beauty.

How boring.

You can’t miss the bike track

There were some super tall bridges with great views

Now that’s innovation. A drainpipe coffee table

I’m so happy that Singha beer company makes a beer for my star sign. I have to drink it

Another boring sunset. Scroll down.

Btw, notice the open door. It leads to a platform which sits many metres above the high water mark. There’s no way you could jump off that platform at high tide, it’s way too dangerous. So what’s the door for? My mind was boggling.

Heading to Trat

Today was hard.

At times.

I spent all morning trying to sort out bike issues, due to the weird Thai inner tube valves that I have, which I already apparently had repaired, but that still pop out when I remove my pump fitting. It was a real drag trying to sort it all out, I’ll spare you the gory details.

But I was on the road by lunchtime.

I hugged the coast off and on today. The gulf waters were choppy, and I rode against a stiff wind at times.

Fishing platforms

A peculiar spirit house right on the ground, with fresh drinks for the spirits.

Bewdy resting on retaining wall blocks. They were weird, made of fishing nets and small cement discs.

My first road sign to Cambodia!

These machines are water filters. 1B for 1L. That’s about 4c. And a phone box.

Space age entry into Trat Province.

Buddha psyching himself up to walk on water

It was hot today, and my shoulder and back were pretty sore from the bike repair work in the morning, and today’s long ride.

It’s been four days riding in a row now, but tomorrow will be a bit shorter.

I got to my guest house pretty trashed, lay back on the bed, and died. It was a particularly whingy painful death, lucky no one was there to hear the groaning.

Trat

I spent an extra day in this cute small city, so I could rest from a pretty long ride. I’d deliberately pushed it a bit to make sure I also had time to get across the border before my visa expired.

I like Trat, because I like traditional rural Thailand.

There was a little festival going on in the park. It was cool. It was a food festival, and boy was there food.

I had my dinner here

There were loads of buskers, mainly young folk. This guy was awesome, singing traditional Thai songs in the most humble, unglamourous and beautiful way.

The big band that came on played pretty good versions of iffy local rock songs. Good musos, but not really my particular genre taste.

A sneak peek at my snack attack. Local sweet rice custardy cake (yum!), chips, honey, bread. Plain yoghurt without sugar, served with the sweetest mango. What more could one want?

Btw, it’s the year 2566 in Thailand atm. They count their years from the date of Buddha’s death. So it’s currently 2566 BE (Buddhist Era), 20/05/66.

It’s weird to see the year 66 at the end of dates. The last time I saw that was when I was 3 years old. I would’ve seen it on the newspapers my older siblings tell me I was already reading at that age.

I don’t know if that’s really true, but that’s what they tell me.

Trat has a really cool market too.

I saw these fold up bikes at the shop. 2700B brand new (about AUD120).

Cool mosaicked footpath

Bird prisoners

Sunday mid morning Trat deadness.

Bordering on Fatigue

I did another long stint to Khlong Yai, the last little outpost town in Thailand before the border.

It was hot, but I kept at it.

Beautiful river crossing

Back into the hills. A sign of things to come.

My modest little room, with aircon from the 1970s, which sounded like the old V8 fridge our family used to have in the same era.

Cute little markets

You’ll never guess what this is …

It’s ….

Of all things. Anything for a potential tourist attraction. Thailand’s only a few hundred metres wide here, but hey, any skinny old peninsula in the country could beat that. D’oh!

Well, Thailand’s History Now

Thailand’s quite unique in that it’s one of only a handful of non-Western countries in the world that wasn’t ever colonised by a Western power. The others, in case you’re interested, are Liberia, Ethiopia, Japan, Bhutan, Iran, Nepal, Tonga, China, the two Koreas and Mongolia, although some of those def had Western occupying forces in their countries at some time or other.

Thailand did well to avoid colonisation, if the treatment of its neighbouring countries by colonising powers is anything to go by.

To the west and the south were the British, in Burma and Malaysia. Thailand struck deals with them. They returned Kedah State to Malaysia, which Thailand had previously ceded. They also allowed the Brits to trade without import duties, which was very lucrative to the greedy Poms.

To the east and northeast were the French, in Cambodia and Vietnam. Thailand fought the French in 1893, and lost. They were then forced to cede Laos to them (which was part of Thailand at that time), and pay reparations.

But they were never colonised, because for decades they’d modernised and restructured their military, civil, administrative, political and economic systems, so they were strong, and had a roaring trade economy going on.

Their leaders were also particularly canny diplomats, and the country happened to be perfectly placed geographically, as a buffer state between the Poms and the Froggies.

In 1932, in a bloodless coup, the military took over the country, ending the absolute power of the Thai monarchy forever. It may have been bloodless, but I bet there was lots of sweating, and, dare I say it, a few people shitting themselves.

When WWII broke out, Thailand’s military ruler at the time, Phibunsongkhram,  allowed the Japanese to set up bases in Thailand, so they could occupy Burma and Malaysia. Because there was so little resistance in those countries, Phibun actually decided to side with Japan in the war, and he declared war on Britain and the US.

Many countries, including Australia, actually then declared war on Thailand.

I never knew that.

But there were many people in Thailand at the time, including some members of the royal family, who disagreed with Phibun, and there was a resistance movement against Japan during the war.

After Japan was defeated in 1945, Allied troops briefly entered Thailand, to disarm Japanese troops.

The Thai military has been very powerful in the country for a long time. In the 91 years since that shitty coup in 1932, Thailand has only had 24 years of elected prime ministers, and the rest of the time it’s been ruled by serving or retired senior military officers.

And those military leaders have almost always been strongly backed by the US, surprise surprise.

In the late 60s and 70s this allowed the US to use Thailand to launch bombing raids in Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam, and even to test their nasty herbicide Agent Orange within the country.

For me personally, I’ve seen Thailand change so much over the years, politically, socially, culturally. It’s so much more developed and modernised now than when I first came here decades ago, and there’s so much more money around, especially in places like Bangkok.

The country’s also on the verge of major political change again. The Move Forward Party, a left-leaning social democratic party, has just won the most seats at the recent national election, which was a shock to everyone.

The party’s widely supported by young people, is opposed to the military, and actually wants to curb the powers of the royals, including changing the lèse majesté laws, which prevent anyone from criticising the royals in public, in any way whatsoever. They also want to change the constitution, to reduce the powers of the military, and make the government more democratic.

But of course, there’s powerful forces against them. According to the current constitution, the military themselves appoint 100 members to the upper house, the Senate, all of whom vote for the next Prime Minister, along with the newly elected lower house members.

So even though Move Forward won the vote, the military could still theoretically put their man (and it undoubtably would be a man) into the top position.

We’ll see how all that pans out.

But I won’t see it from here.

Farewell, My Lovely

And so I made it to the border in peace.

In one piece even.

My shoulder did the job.

It’s hard to believe that now, after 3 whole months in beautiful Thailand, I’m finally leaving.

This is where I've been in this beautiful country.

I’m sad. I love it here. I feel so at home, I know how the place works, I’ve got enough lingo to get by, I’m in love with the people.

But it’s time to go.

I’ve got other tofu to fry.

A New Kingdom!

There’s something really exciting, and a little bit scary, about going to a new country, one that you’re not really familiar with.

And it’s particularly arousing when you’re coming in independently, for example alone on a bike, and so you’re amongst it right from the get go, rather than bussing or vanning in from some town away from the border in the origin country to the first major tourist destination in the new country, where you can tuck right into another beer and a pizza, just like yesterday.

It’s also particularly striking because Cambodia is considerably poorer than Thailand, and so it can be pretty rough around the edges at times.

From first impressions this place sorta reminds me of India, at least in this part of the country. India without the hordes of people, that is. It can be quite dirty, a little chaotic, many people are obviously quite poor, certain shops are much less stocked, and there’s just a really different vibe here.

I’m in Koh Kong, close to the southwestern coast of the country, up against the wide delta of the Prek Kaoh Pao, a river that winds its way to the sea from the tall hills that completely surround this coastal plain.

I’m gonna be in those hills tomorrow, the roads aren’t so good, and it’s steep in parts. In long parts.

Not only that, but it’s been wet, and there’s long stretches of roadworks coming up for me. Apparently.

That means mud.

Mud and bicycles don’t really go together that well.

Tonight I’ve put a new tyre on my bike, a sorta bitumen/gravel hybrid tyre, to replace my really bald and nearly dead one. It feels good to have that on, knowing what’s in store.

I’m gonna be right in villagey rural Cambodia, not a lot of services probably, and I won’t be in a major town for at least a few days.

A new adventure!

The Max Factor

I know a bit about the roads ahead because I met Max yesterday, an Aussie cyclist from Brizvegas, who was going in the other direction.

An actual Aussie!

I got the chance to speak Strine, at last! You bloody bewt!

We stood on the side of the road for ages, and chatted.

Max-ing out

He’s ridden from Da Nang, in central Vietnam, all the way to here. And actually a bit further now, as I met him on the Thai side of the border yesterday, he’s on his way to Phuket, from where he’ll eventually fly back to Oz..

Impressive ride.

He was in good spirits, but I also got the impression that maybe he’d like some company on his ride. I don’t know that for sure, but I got that vibe.

I can relate to that.

Not the struggling with being on your own bit, but just the being on your own bit.

When you’re cycling you’re on a different trajectory to all the other travellers and backpackers and tourists, so you spend lots of time doing your own thing.

I actually love it, I love having loads of time to myself, to chill, to be creative, to do exactly what I want when I want. Of course, it’s all within the boundaries of the fact that I’m riding around Southeast Asia, so I have to do certain things to make that happen.

Like actually ride my bike, for example.

Max said he understands why most cyclists ride in pairs, just to have a companion to bounce things off, and share places and situations with.

Yeah, I get that too.

I’ve just experienced that very thing, having hung out with Iain for a couple of weeks recently. It was awesome.

But it’s also so good to be back on my own, following exactly my own program and itinerary.

I may have said it before, but if you wanna cycle long distances alone, you really need to be the sort of person who enjoys your own company for long periods of time.

It’s a prerequisite.

Well … maybe it could be something that you learn to enjoy over time, but you sorta need to have that predisposition I reckon.

I mean, wherever you are, you’ll eventually make it to a travellers’ hangout, so you can mingle if you want to.

But here in the wild west of Cambodia, those hangouts seem to have a lot of pedal revs between them.

In its pre-pandemic heyday, Koh Kong had a whopping 42 Chinese owned and built casinos operating in and around the town. This guy was right at the border, and looks a little worse for wear.

Shit! People drive on the wrong side of the road here. Wrong is right.

Crossing the big river delta on the way in to town

It may not be Thailand, but I still found a coconut shake.

Downtown. Big new Chinese built buildings are starting to appear.

The markets were so cool, really rustic

Hell’s bells and cockle shells

These type of buildings look so out of place here, considering the rickety shacks around them.

The street my hotel was on

My hotel. It’s the truth. My room was 20 bucks. Doesn't really match the street, does it.

Phew. I'd finished my eclectic pot.

Goody! Remember these crackers from when you were a kid? Different label, same sugar.

I smell a rat.

I went here in a last ditch attempt to improve my humour humour.

My dinner spot. Cambodian royals and Western liquor.

In The Cardamom Pod

Yeah, this is another world, I can tell you.

I’m in Trapeang Rung, a one-horse town in the middle of the jungle.

It was a really amazing ride today.

Heading out of Koh Kong

It took approx 1 minute for the hills to start

And a few more for the road to begin to deteriorate

It sounds weird, but because of all the bush and the lack of people the road sorta felt a bit like I was back in Oz.

But that’s pretty much where the similarities ended.

Today there was lightning, there was thunder, there were even black clouds. But I hardly got wet.

Beautiful river crossing

Lunch stop. Rice and boiled eggs.

And Angkor Wat on my spoon!

The road was like this for a fair bit of the ride today. After I left my lunch stop the road just went up and up and up, climbing for a few hundred metres. It was hard, but I’m well geared for it.

Up there on top of the range I felt cool, for the first time in ages

This is the southwestern part of the Cardamom Mountains, a huge expanse of land, which itself covers a big chunk of southwestern Cambodia, right down to the coast in many places. The highest peak is Phnom Aural, in the northeast of the mountains, which is 1,813m high.

Over there it’s completely thick rainforest jungle, and here in the foothills there’s a lot of forest too, but the peaks are considerably lower. I’ve heard wildlife in the bush  over the past couple of days, and seen major rustling in the trees, but didn’t manage to spot anything, besides birds.

It was misty at times, but not actually raining. There were patches of muddy roadworks as well, sometimes hilly ones. Pretty slushy at times.

But eventually I made it to this tiny place, had some food and a fresh coconut, and am now totally chilling.

To Botum Sakor

No, it’s not pronounced bottom sucker.

So, through the amazing wild west I ride.

Bodhi leaf prayer tree, with banknotes (fake ones I guess), at my breakfast spot.

Btw, did I tell you I’m now a millionaire!!?

It’s taken me so many years to get here, but I’ve finally made it!

I’ve got well over a million riel in my hot little money belt! (I won’t tell you that each of those riel is worth a staggering 0.025 of one US cent).

But I’m still technically a millionaire, so there.

So come on, let’s celebrate! (Drinks are on you).

As I was packing in my guest house this morning, the woman running it knocked on the door, and basically demanded that I give her a tip. She tried to tell me she was hungry, it was sorta weird, because her family’s dinner last night and breakfast this morning was massive, she had take away drink and food containers lying around etc etc.

Also the guest house is schmicko, there’s quite expensive ornaments all over the  place, electronic appliances, you name it.

Does she think I’m blind? (I am, but how would she know that, except for the occasional wall I bump into).

Anyway, I wasn’t falling for that one, there’s plenty of local poor to whom I prefer to give my money, so I refused. She wouldn’t leave, I eventually sorta had to shut the door in her face, as politely as possible.

It left a weird feeling, which I know quite well, from other places. When I finally left, her husband was so friendly and polite, but she didn’t even say goodbye.

This reminds me of the roads out in the tablelands west of Tenterfield.

Once I leave the small towns there’s little human habitation, at least nothing much visible from the dodgy road.

Although this isn’t the main route from southeastern Thailand to the Cambodian capital of Phnom Penh, it’s still a major through road to the southwest of the country.

But you wouldn’t know it from the road quality.

It’s like one of those dodgy roads in Byron Shire, albeit considerably wider in most parts, and with not even a hint of a flaky spiritual bypasser in sight.

There was another steep constant climb today, but not as high an altitude gain as yesterday.

This was the view coming back down to the plains.

Making offerings. I took this from my outdoor dinner spot in town.

There were a lot of flies around the few tables in that place (another reminder of some places in India). The food was ok though, bai chha (flied rice), with egg, and the occasional token modicum of vegetable.

Wat entrance

Really run down markets, super interesting

From left, King Norodom Sihamoni, (the current king), former king Norodom Sihanouk (his dad), and ex-Queen and Queen Mother Norodom Monineath.

Khmerman

I’m trying to cram Khmer words and phrases into my brain at the moment, because, as you probably know, I really like to speak a bit of the local lingo wherever I go.

Khmer (pronounced khmai) is not technically a tonal language, so theoretically it should be a little easier than Thai to speak.

But there seems to be a lot of words for the same thing (including numbers, which is a bummer), with regional variations, so sometimes people don’t seem to know what the hell I’m talking about.

That offends my proud brain-ego, there’s nothing worse for me personally than to potentially be considered a dumb fuck.

Google Translate seems quite useless here, the translations aren’t good, and no one seems to understand them (and many locals can’t read them either).

I mean, Google Translate is only passable at the best of times.

So I’ve bought an old school phrasebook online, and am working my way through it, just like in the good old days. It takes time, but my pride drives me. As does my wallet. With a few language skills, things can be considerably cheaper, as I’ve already discovered.

The Rainy Season Is Here

I got super drenched today, and it was great. It really cooled me down. It bucketed down in the early afternoon, for quite some time, the wind picked up strongly and tried to throw me off the road, and I dodged a few lightning strikes that were super close.

Phew.

It would’ve been shocking to be hit by lightning.

The road was flatter today, and flanked by a lot more habitation - little shacks, shops, rice fields and paddocks.

It was also a tough day for my shoulder, which appears to be getting worse, rather than better. All these continuously bumpy roads jolt the shit out of it, and it’s super sore right now.

Plus my back tyre had a slow leak, I had to pump it up a couple of times, which also kills my shoulder. But I made it here without having to actually change the tube, that was a blessing. I can now do that job from the comfort of my little temporary home.

So I really need to rest …. and that’s what I’m planning on doing.

Nesat

Nesat is a little village that was set up by a bunch of expats, about 15km south of the tiny town of Srae Ampel. Many of the farangs here originally lived in the beachside Cambodian village of Otres, a part of Sihanoukville.

A few years ago Chinese money came to that part of the world, and since then the whole of Sihanoukville has virtually been demolished (or left to decay), and replaced with high rise hotels and resorts for Chinese tourists.

The expats who lived there didn’t want to stay in that new world, and got out when they were offered good money for their properties and businesses.

So they bought some land here, at Nesat, and have set up a village, consisting of their own beautiful and quite rustic homes, and lots of small businesses, like guesthouses, restaurants, a few bars, healing spaces and a shop or two. It’s small, there’s only about 90 people living in the village, and there’s bushland between every building.

There’s such a great vibe here. I’ve met the most beautiful and interesting people, and have had some amazing and inspiring conversations. All the people here have quite unique stories to tell. Leaving the West to settle in a tiny village in Cambodia requires a certain amount of gumption, and these people have it in droves.

Most are in their 30s or 40s, some are younger. I’m pretty much the oldest dude around, but I rarely remember that.

It’s rainy season, so there’s no tourists around here at all at the moment. Everyone I’ve met here so far is a resident.

I’ve had some super late nights in the bars, last night I got home after 5am, just as it was getting light. Unfortunately it was a little drizzly, so there was no sunrise to watch. It would’ve been a little blurry anyway.

I’ve spent a couple of days completely chillaxing here, it’s been such a blessing. My body’s healing, albeit super slowly.

Rain clouds and another river crossing, on the road to Srae Ampel.

There’s lots of water about now. Locals must be relieved.

Run down mosque

Run down wat

Run down chicken.

Playing chicken is dangerous.

The colour purple

Wedding preparations

Beautiful rustic homes

Local school. See the boys waving?

One of the really delightful things about this country is the number of kids (and adults) who call out “hello” as I ride past. They wave and get excited, even the older ones. It’s so sweet.

Honestly, I wave and say hello at least a hundred times a day.

People are just so genuinely friendly here, albeit quite shy, because of the language thing.

Very long transport tractor. These are really common in the farming areas and back roads.

This is my guest house. I stayed in the geodesic dome at the front. It felt very snail-like, which was perfect, because I needed to rest and move slowly.

My restroom.

For a pillow, I always use a wrapped up shawl of mine with a towel or something on top. Without fail, the guest house pillows in Cambodia and Thailand are always way too fat for my liking.

My pentagonistic view

Chill pillows. Rain watching and guitar plucking spot.

The track from a neighbouring bar/guest house back to my own. According to my photo info, it was exactly 5.27am when this shot was taken.

Yeah, I slept in that day. Pretty much all of it.

Happiness Beach

Ahhhhh, what total bliss it is ….

Sitting here, in the cool, gentle breeze, looking out over the beautiful waters of Chakk Kampong Som, a huge bay that opens out into the central part of the Gulf of Thailand, I feel so lucky, so privileged.

There’s no one around at all.

I can hear some traditional Cambodian music in the distance, coming from somewhere behind the mangroves.

But it’s only a few bars, here and there, and then the breeze carries the music away from my ears. And then brings a little back.

It’s beautiful music. It does this place to perfection. Gentle. Spacious. Slow, but moving.

There’s a few fishing boats heading across the bay in the distance.

If I look a little to my left there’s just open waters, I can’t see any land at all across the bay.

But if I could see into the never-ending distance, and if I could bend my vision around the curvature of the earth, I’d see right over to Surat Thani, close to the monastery where I did my silent meditation retreat, nearly two whole months ago.

Sometimes I find it quite incredible.

The way time moves, that is.

Time’s not constant, that’s a complete fallacy. It passes at different speeds.

Some days are so much longer than others.

It’s an indescribable pleasure to be able to sit and do nothing. Watch the lapping of the ocean, the tide move, hear the insects and flies occasionally buzz past, or the distant putt-putting of a fishing boat.

I know that I can do this all day, if I want to.

The breeze sometimes dies down a little, and when it returns it pushes a hotter blast of air past my body first, before it cools me again.

The sun’s burning hot when those clouds part for awhile.

The water’s warm on my feet and legs, and the ocean is completely coloured by light grey sediment, a gift from the monsoonal rains.

The rains are beautiful, I’ve been sitting and watching them too. Water gushing off thatched rooftops, splashing red earth over everything after it’s careered to the ground.

As it intensifies, the waterfalls pouring off the gutterless rooftops get thicker, faster, and shoot out more assertively. Rain blows into the spacious wall-less hangout room of my guesthouse, and sprays over me.

Everything gets a little wet.

And noone cares.

I’ve been doing lots of nothing lately.

Resting my shoulder. Napping. Reading, writing. Strumming a few chords, gently.

And socialising, mainly in the evenings, with super interesting and warm people.

The road to Happiness

These signs are everywhere. Ganzberg is a local brew, they keep advertising that it’s made with German ingredients, and German techniques, but they must’ve done it badly because so far I haven’t seen one person drinking it.

Heading along the boardride to the sea

The coast!

Notice the lines the aerial roots make as they grow upwards from their host roots.

Beautiful adjoining beach

I got sorta lost on some bush tracks

The road from Happiness

Local hardware store. They didn’t have what I needed (a new occy strap).

Yes, this woman is wearing her pyjamas. It’s what many women wear here, out on the streets. It’s perfectly acceptable, and it’s a bit of a fashion statement I reckon. Hello Kitty, Donald Duck, you name it.

I’m not quite used to it yet.

The closest beach to Nesat village (about 4km away).

Gi Or Gi Er on my mind

Blogging On

I checked out a friend’s travel blog a little while back, and noticed he had a Buy Me A Coffee link in there.

I thought it was a great simple way to support him in his writing and travelling adventures, and have decided to do the same thing in my blogs.

I’ve been away from any income for ages now, and am starting to look for ways to earn a little cash, while still being able to be relatively mobile.

If you like my writing, if you wanna support me to do more of it, or if you just wanna buy me a coffee, 100% of your generous donation goes to me, and you can choose whether or not to put your name to it.

For me, the great thing about the whole idea is that people in Western countries with an income can make a donation that they don’t even really notice too much, but for me, once pooled, it can make a big difference to my abilities to keep writing and travelling.

I love writing. I put a lot of time and juice into it, which includes researching the history and background of many of the places I go. It’s super fun, and I’d like to do it for as long as I can.

Of course I absolutely don’t expect any of you to buy me a coffee. You know me.

But if you want to, feel free.

And if you do, I thank you sincerely in advance, from the bottom of my stomach.

The link's down below.

Get Up, Get On Up

I guess I can’t lie around recovering forever.

My shoulder’s not healed, but it feels way better than when I first got here.

Tomorrow I’m leaving this gorgeous paradise, to shake, rattle and roll along the coast, on more red, bumpy roads.

Eventually I’ll make my way to the Cambodian capital, Phnom Penh.

The most indescribable things happened around there in the 1970s, as they did in many other parts of this beautiful country.

We’ll go there next time.

It’s a story that needs to be told.

But it’s one that’s almost impossible to hear.❤️

buymeacoffee.com/krolesh9