Travel

Koh Sdach

It was pitch black when I arrived at Sihanoukville‘s port. A huge thunderstorm was brewing on the horizon, periodically lighting my surroundings. I had been dumped in a shabby area outside the central area of the port, where only a few boats were stationed. Noone I could see spoke any English. My motorbike driver had
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Sihanoukville

Packed to the rafters with sweaty tourists, smelly luggage and excessive numbers of the driver’s children, we set off for Sihanoukville. It was crampt, hot and painful, but having a window seat allowed me to escape this torture for a few hours and enjoy the rolling Cambodian countryside. After a few hours, we rolled up
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Kampot

In a word, Kampot was lovely. The weather was nice, the streets were calm, I saw some amazing sights, plus I was never abducted here. To start with, I checked into a hostel called Blissful, which was, indeed, eponymous.  With a glass of beer, under the shade of a palm tree in a slowly swinging
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Phnom Penh

My visit to Phnom Penh started out as depressing as that of Ho Chi Minh. This was mainly due to the fact that I was abducted within minutes of getting into the city. It started out inoccuously enough. Walking out of my hostel, I turned right onto the short road, eventually meeting the river Mekong,
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Ho Chi Minh City

Ho Chi Minh was the most depressing place I had visited in Asia so far. This came about, not becuase of any fault of the city itself, but from two external factors. These being the Vietnam War and the weather. I don’t want to equate these things as being of equal importance, obviously, but both
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