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Just as the journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step, it also ends with the last in the form of our final plane home from Muscat in Oman. The past week has been filled relaxing in Cambodia and creating weird mockery from anyone or anything from the classic Cambodian "everything one dollar" to sitting around thinking of ways to further harass Irwin and his treacherous ways, examples include; Judas, Epilates, loyalty of Irwin, loyalty of Maclean, shackles of Irwin, repeated Suzi jokes and (on a completely different note) Bieber- you will all see it in time. Aside from this we trekked down to the Cambodian markets daily where we haggled and bartered with people who lived in abject poverty showing the clear fact that our morality has the financial rigidity of the strictest of Jewish bankers. In the evenings we often went to our favourite club, named Temple, for our regular wining and dining. It was here that there was a pool table and it was here that I lost at alarming regularity to Kemp, who, after assuring his pool dominance, continued to allow his arrogance to flow in conversation up to and after every game. Also my argument sticks that if you're playing drinking pool and you lose the first few games, you are just not coming back from there. Cambodia is notorious for lots of beggars and a huge amount of people selling random stuff that nobody wants. On one occasion I had to ask a few tuk tuk drivers to peal off a small boy who hang clung himself to my leg. This may make me sound un-benevolent but due to the masses of beggars we decided that it wasn't worth giving money, as you'd be tracked down by the rest of the street, much like a scene from dawn of the dead or maybe I am Legend with myself as a Will Smith like character and Kemp as the dog, and followed until you managed to make a get-away in a tuk tuk.
A few nights before we left Siem Riep I was left in a tricky situation in the restaurant of the hotel that we were currently staying in. There was a small Cambodian child running around the place like a man on speed and the waitresses could see that he was annoying the other customers so decided to take the child into another room. (I am assuming the child belonged to her, if not then its kind of weird) Anyway at the very moment the child passed our table a MASSIVE bug made its way onto my fork and in a moment of panic I threw the fork away and it just so happened to hit or just miss the child. The embarrassment was huge and we ate our food as fast as possible. A few days later we deciced to leave the highlife at The New Riverside Hotel and headed for places cheaper in Skyway Hotel; still good but just cheaper. 2 or 3 days here maxin relaxin in the markets we headed back to Phenm Penh for our final few days in Cambodia, which were spend relaxingly as we had very little to no money. In our final stage of the trip we returned for two more nights in what was now a highly expensive Bangkok, which consisted of chugging Chang, the local beer, and reconciliation with the girl who came under much scrutiny to say the last during our travels, the infamous Suzi Webb.
6 hours to Muscat from Bangkok and 8 hours to Heathrow and the three musketeers dispersed yet again after what was the best experience of my life to date. 2 weeks later and I'm still in awe of how much fun we had, the sense of adventure and laughing at Irwin when he did stupid stupid things, you must have all heard about at least a few of them now. Things are so different here. Kemp hasn't got his beard for one, Irwin hasn't done anything stupid in a while and I haven't met anyone new in ages! Also having your own room is beyond weird, mainly due to the fact sometimes I think the boys are still there and I try and start a conversation. Also I had to cut off all my silly long hair which was a shame because it was fun but at least now my hair is amazing (no modesty necessary).
Anyway as of Monday, I go back to reality and begin full time work in London, which is seriously going to affect my alcohol addiction plan, but at least I'll be getting cash.
Finally the last ever Harrison Financial Times. Don't ask.
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