London, The Sky Is Falling!

It's funny, you can go through Cambodia where there are loads of unexploded mines, diseases and other untold dangers and be perfectly safe, but having a night in.... that's dangerous!

We've been staying with a mate, Reg for the last few days. Well his roof fell in two nights ago. His ceiling in the kitchen. Part of it landed on my head! Everyone thought it was hilarious, 'cept me.

Well no, at the time everyone was a little shaken up.

See Reg and Andy live in a flat and their neighbour who lives above them (who some might suggest has a few problems ) had a leaky boiler, that's her water heater not her brain. Reg's ceiling started leaky the day we arrived. Andy told her. Reg told her. She did nothing about it for a couple of days, in fact she said there was no flat underneath hers just an empty space all the way to the ground. Andy convinced her to come downstairs and see the leak. One of her friends said they'd fix it.

Two days later the roof fell in.

I say it fell on my head, but only partially. We had some old mates over who live in the area and we were playing Yahtzee, its like a dice version of poker.

Roof roared like an earthquake. I was sitting right under it. i looked up. Everything stopped. because after that i don't remember what happened just what the others tell me. Apparently i made a flying leap as a piece hit me. I like the image of me being like an action hero, but the next thing i knew i was climbing out of the recycling bin. not so glamorous.

Reg went straight upstairs to get that crazy lady. He knew she'd have to see it, because last time it was a pain to get her to do anything. and well she's going to be the one who has to pay for it, or her insurance company is anyway.

She came down with her friend.

'This can't be from a couple of days of leaking water,' she said.
'ummm.....' Reg said, 'I think you'll find it is.'
She gave him a look that said she'd like rip his eyes out.
Her friend turned to her. 'You got to get a grip,'

The two of them talked for a bit, or bickered. We watched. They left with the girl saying that it wasn't her fault.

So the real estate is now involved. Insurance is involved. The kitchen is a mess.

Reg is going on holidays at the end of the week and leaving us his flat. Great! free rent, right?

Anyway, I'd thought i was fine. Just a bump on the head with a bit of a headache. Yesterday, the headache was still there all day and in the afternoon i started to feel sick. So after deliberating about it for hours, saying i didn't need to go, it's just a headache, i went to the hospital to get checked out. The doctor said I've got post traumatic concussion syndrome. Sounds fancy, but basically it means I've got a sore head, feel irritable, tired and have bunch of other symptoms, but i will live. Its only meant to last up to 2 weeks at a max. I'm hoping 2 days.

So we're all alive. And things are fantastic!

Bangkok Madness!

Hey so it's our last day in Bangkok today. Sad but true.

For the last couple of days I've been trying to get some tailor made pants and shirts made and its been hell. These guys have been making me a pair of tents, then say, 'oh sir. those pants look great.'

C'mon, have you got disability? There's a time and a place for tents and its not on pinstripe pants.

So after arguing for two days, while dragging Sandy and Mook anlong for support i manage to purchase two slimmed down tents and one nice shirt. One shirt didn't make it, its was tragedy. the opposite of a tent - the chest hugger.

'Oh, but sir, it makes you look very big. You have good mucles, yes?'
'er...."
"The ladies like the snug fit.'
'I don't think so.'
Sir! why you always complaining?
'....!!!!!'

Tomorrow London! Whoo hoo!

The Kombi Cocktail Van

Koah San Rd, Bangkok, Thailand.

Click To Play

I would've use YouTube but its banned in Thailand because someone offended the king, i reckon he might be a little bit too sensitive.

Angkor Wat?

Angkok Wat!!! It’s beautiful, but as soon as we stepped off our rickshaw an army souvenir selling kids attacked. You buy! You my friend. You buy my flute. My Pen. My whatever.

RUN!!!!!

Everybody’s gotta make a living though, right?



The place is gorgeous, massive trees grow out the top of walls with their roots like tentacles crushing bricks while holding them together at the same time. I suspect every western bloke who’s ever been here has fancied himself as a bit like Indiana Jones, I did. Because everyone wants get away from the crowds to explore the temples as though they were the first person to ever stumble across it in eons.

At the Jungle temple, you can easily pull off this trick of difficult psychological self delusion because in the reality is the place is in ruins with jungle growing all over it and you could be the first. This is also the temple where Angelina Jollie strutted her stuff in Tomb Raider, so maybe there’s ladies out there thinking they’re a big breasted sexy lady running around in lycra. I haven’t ask Sandy about this yet but as I said it take a bit of psychological self delusion.

So we’re in the Jungle temple, ruins and trees have fused together and I’ve lost Sandy and Mook, I’d like to say they took a wrong turn but I’m starting to think it was me. I’m walking into a dark tunnel and the difference in temperature hits you as you step down out of the sun into the ruined catacombs. Its cool in here and your suddenly aware of how wet you are from sweat. It’s nice.

As I stumble over bricks and roots, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the sudden lack of light, I start wishing I had a whip, because Harrison Ford looked so cool with one and it’d add the perfect touch to my fantasy and this is better than the movies. This is real. There’s ancient inscription on the walls, which you expect would say something very deep and meaningful, but then with my linguistic expertise it could also translate to ‘Billy wants to give it to Sally’

I stumble on. Up ahead candle light is flashing yellow light and shadows around a dark chamber. There’s chanting too.

C’mon Mr Indie.

A Buddhist nun is praying before an ancient statue. Her voice is soft and the candle light illuminates her and the old stone of Buddha’s head. This is real. This is my movie. She smiles at me, sensing me watching. I smile back.

‘You want good luck?’ She offers me an incense stick. I notice by her feet a Tupperware container containing money.

‘Um…. How much?’

‘Just $2.’ (That’s US currency)
\
‘Um…. No thanks’ I repeat the same in Khemer backing away.

Her face gets darker. ‘But Good Luck for You!!!’ She thrusts the stick at me.

‘No.’

You can see her face transforming from Zen granny to dark demon. I’m in a hole with her. I wanna get out. She starts swearing, or what I assume is swearing in her language. My superior linguistic skills tell me she’s saying something like, ‘Curse, hiss, Die Cunt, bastard, asshole.’

I run back into the light and find Sandy and Mook.

You can’t blame the old bitty though because everybody’s gotta make a living though, right?

The Temples are amazing. The experience is definitely worth it. And its lets you live out your fantasies (not the naughty ones) even if it is covered by a zillion beggars, monks (who also want you money for their English lessons) and tour groups, but I’m loving because I’m a tourist there’s nothing better than being a backpacker tourist because it’s a very nice way to be homeless and unemployed.

Tomorrow we’re making the documentary.

Bus Rides and Taxis (Siem Reap)

Siem Reap, eh? This is the town where everyone who comes to Cambodia comes here. It's the gateway town to Angkor Wat and it's a dust bowl. Most locals have taken to wearing a surgical face mask. it's a weird thing to see, all these guys driving rickshaws and motorbikes are wearing them. They look like they've escaped from a horror movie. Though i haven't seen much of the town yet.

But I love Asia, there's no other place like it. You can do anything. Say anything. Drink anything. Buy anything. And on the bus they play karaoke music the whole time. Most of the time this music sucks.

But i tell you, if i could read Cambodian it'd be the best. For six hours while no one sung, we listened to that machine and i dreamed of fulfilling my dreams of not only being a cabaret singer but doing it while travelling. I tell you, me and Sandy up there, on that aisle doing our duets, we could've rocked it rocked the bus in a whole new style. Though it would've been loads better if the music was in English because while i might sound like a cultural fool, i think Cambodian pop sucks! They're got lovely countryside though.

So as the bus is pulling into our final stop at Siem Reap, hundreds of young lads as running along side of the bus as we slowed. Dust is everywhere. Surgical masked teenagers are slapping our windows waving at us. Friendly, you might think. It might almost be an Indiana Jones scene, except these guys are worse than those crazy Indians that chased Harrison Ford down to the river with their blow guns and spears. These guys are taxi drivers, moto drivers, rickshaw drivers, and whatever you wanna call them, they're calling for you.

So stepping down the steps of the bus there's hundreds of these lads, yelling for attention. They're all holding up signs and screaming, their signs read ''the best guesthouse,'' ''The greatest guesthouse,'' or ''The most superlative guesthouse.'' and They're screaming, 'Hey! Come my Guesthouse!" or "Hey, Mr free ride for you!'' all while they're trying smile, because they don't wanna appear rude, and shoving and pushing each other to get to the front row. Its like stepping down into flock of giant turkeys, all squabbling and hungry. They want your money.

I feel like a rock star!

They're pulling and grabbing. I'm lucky because I've got a loud booming voice. "Get out of my way!'' i yell

The westerner has spoken.

They stop. Look.

For a second.

Then they're pulling and grabbing. ''Where you go mister?' Come my guesthouse. cheap Cheap. good Deal. You smoke? We went to a place Mook knew and its tops. Tomorrow we'll go see Angkor Wat.

the kids

Pics should be up!

Welcome to Cambodia!!!

We're in Sihanoukville a beautful beach paradise. It's the middle of the night and the sweat from my body has made a small pool in my mattress, the sliding on this has woken me up. The fan has stopped working.

In this heat, in the tropics, you gotta have a fan.

I don't care if saying this makes me sound like an obnoixious westerner that can't handle the heat, but I need a fan.

I checked it again. Not working. I checked the lights. No power.

I'm sweating worse than a pig on a spit. Our room is made up of a thatch roof and terracotta tiles, during the day it heats up, and now at night its still hot from the day and without a fan its like living an indian tandori oven.

'It's fucking hot!' i say, rather brillantly to Sandy.
She groans and rolls over.
'Powers out.'I pull on my shorts. ''I'll check with someone.''

Outside, you can the waves a rolling with soft spashes onto the shore and in the moonlight you can make them out . The bar of our guesthouse which open onto the beach is empty, it must be close to four in the morning. Out here there are no fans and its still hot. Behind the bar sleeping on the floor, i guess his job is to protect it from people raiding it at night as well as being the bar tender. He wakes hearing me stumble around in the semi dark.

''No power,'' i say as he stands, rubs his eyes and nods.
''Yes, the lines often go down.' He smiles at me sympatheticly. 'Welcome to Cambodia.

I climb back into bed, still sweating but satisfied. I can handle no fan for a while.