So the bus was quick and i ended up in Kampot, sleepy, little KAMPOT. Life is simple, people are happy! This place has a reputation for being sleepy and quite factually, most people would easily bypass this place, I, on the otherhand, Am enjoying it.

After three days of pouring rain in Sihanoukville, i decided it was time to move east to kampot. I booked my bus and off i went. It was just under 2 hours and i was here. There was a STRANGE lady on my bus. SHE was from sydney. Imagine 55 year old, sun damaged-badly skinned woman, really AUSTRAY'YAN. That was what not only I, but the entire bus was blessed with listeining to and putting up with for the entire two hours. We heard her opinion on verything, from airlines that are the best and worse, to how there is no greater place than sydeny, to her more than obvious desire to never set foot in any european country. I quickly made an exit for the bus and found a more managable person to spend time with.

It was decided. Long Villa would be my home. But for the next two days it would be Bokor Mountain. Now i don't claim to have come anywhere near Killamanjaro, Macchu Pichu or in any way follow in Edmund Hilary's footsteps, but i put in an effort that lasted 32 kilometers. In pouring rain, up vertical assults, through river rapids, around waterfalls and finally 17 kilometers of quicksand-esque red clay type road, I made it! With a guide and a ranger in tow and five other weary travelers, we had arraived at the ranger station aka home for the night. The rain ceased, but the cold air didn't. Nor did the stares from the 12 little indians who live up at the ranger station working to build the new road. The hot dinner came and no matter how hard i tried, i could not escape the freezing cold shower, or the fact that the cloud was actually inside the room.

Bokor was once home to the holiday residence of Cambodia's highest. boasting huge catholic church, a casino, water tower and more. Today, it is an eerie ghost town that was laid to rest under the rule of the Khmer Rouge. the entire Elephant Mountains were off limits to Khmers. When the Station was re-opened, the locals came and looted all the goods, leaving their names engraved on the walls forever, and completely abandoning the buildings.

I visited these buildings and was teased with magical views of Sihanoukville, Kep, kampot and the Gulf of Thailand. It is easy to imagine the beauty that once existed in this place, but not so easy to imagine the reason this place is ruins today. Or to imagine living under a horrific regime.

It was an early night, beacuse power goes off at 2100, so off i went, drifting off to sleep, in a dream land that took me to some beautiful places.

Wake up at 0700 to a freezing cold shower and a boiling hot breakfast. The sky is clear, with only snapshots reminding me of the storm last night. And chills up my spine as i realise the eerieness of this place. Ready for a day of walking, i quickly think back to my trip to the casino up here last night - home to three men and their 5 chickens and mangey dog. Oh and a now dead rat. I smiled and continued to pack my things.

We were offered a ride down the mountain in the back of an army truck. I was happy either way, but my preciuos Trek-mates saw no other alternative. So into the back of the truck i scurried, along with 10 or so crazy cambodians. And freight. Bump bump bump, thru the red clay we plodded along. Until, after 17 or so kilometers the truck stopped. We were Bogged. STUCK. Going No where. Well, no where fast anyway. We had already had a 2 hour delay at around 5 kilomters in. AN entire tree had fallen across the road, blocking all traffic in both directions. We stopped. jumped out of the truck and almost immediately twelve little guys, hand axes in tow, came out of nowhere and started chopping those branches. One by one, the bits of timber moved from the road. At about 100 minutes into the operation, a truck came from the other direction and a chainsaw was brought out. It was a tow truck and it pulled that tree away. So along we plodded. The Stuck truck caused hassle for all. So out we hopped and trudged knee deep thru the mud for 5 loooong kilometers, mud at our feet and rain on our faces. The hurting rain, the BIG drops that come really fast and feel yukky on your face. I was begining to adapt to my surroundings, and was lost in thought. This was disturbed by the horrific smell of diesel and the sound of a big green army truck. I reallt have never been as happy to see a smiling cambodian and have the fesh diesel air in my face as i was at that moment.

I FINALLY arrived back home. WEt, cold and muddy, but with smiles all the SAME! Home intime for a good night sleep before i would continue my journey to Angkor.............