Cambodia instantly had a different feel to it. Poorer than its neighbours, it’s clear how much tourism impacts the community. The minute we stepped out of Phnom Penh airport we had numerous tuktuk and moto drivers fighting for our business, the minute we arrived at the Lakeside we were whisked into a guesthouse without a grunt or a nod and as soon as we stepped foot onto the street we found ourselves surrounded by children selling copied books. Our first night in Phnom Penh we had an ear-bashing from a crazy Kiwi ex-pat (or arguably teacher/bum/drunk) and met a couple of guys from Blackpool who we were to bump into throughout the rest of the country, but no Cambodians to be met except the barman.

There wasn’t an awful lot to be seen in Phnom Penh besides an array of educational activities about the Khmer Rouge and their mass genocide programme in the 70’s. We went to the fields where the skull monument stands and to Tuol Sleng museum to understand a bit about what still haunts today’s Cambodia, but left Phnom Penh without delving much deeper.

Understanding Cambodian road laws however, are a completely different story – traffic tends to go either way it likes on whichever side of the road takes its fancy, and so very often you’ll be driving head on towards swarms of motorbikes which are carrying as many people as they can possible squeeze on and around the seat (one bike we saw carried 6!). After saying how amazed we were that we hadn’t yet had an accident, the morning we left Phnom Penh a pick-up truck drove straight into the side of our minibus. The driver then spent the next 20 minutes raving on about how it couldn’t possibly have been his fault.

So we went Northbound into the wilderness to a small town called Banlung, in the Rattankiri province. This really was out in the sticks and so when the bus chugged to a halt in the middle of a potholed dirt track somewhere and the driver managed to nab a passersby’s bike and drive off with the damaged part of the bus for the next couple of hours we weren’t quite sure how we would get there. But all was well and some hours later we were able to check into our $2 hotel.

On the back of Wattie and Sat’s motos, we made a big day of Banlung’s surroundings, visiting 3 waterfalls and the Crater Lake. There really was nothing in the way of development which tourism usually brings and so we found we had the waterfalls largely to ourselves and a few local kids. At the Katieng Waterfall, we trekked the last hour on an elephant (Nelly) which was very exciting, albeit a bit too scary when she actually trudged across the top of the falls, a little too close to the edge for my liking. Eating in Banlung was also an interesting affair, the communication barrier was almost impenetrable, but one night we did end up with a portable grill and a stack of half-cooked beef plonked on the table so we were more than happy with that.

A quick stop off at Kratie saw us attempt Irraweddy dolphin-watching (bored after 5 minutes) and get a very scary 45 minute lift on the back of a bike driven by a wimpering Khmer woman in music bear pyjamas (the bit when we nearly drove into one of the wandering bulls was the worst).

On the way to the Cambodian capital of tourism, we passed through Skuon, a village where the local delicacy is Spider! Usually adventurous over what local foods to try, I quickly decided against this one when I saw one of the furry things walk across a table, ewww.

Siem Reap, a town only minutes from the famous Angkor Wat temples was well-equipped for the traveller, with a lively night market, lots of restaurants and bars plus a gorgeous bakery with its own homemade ice cream. We made it to Angkor Wat for sunrise, and spent a long, hot day wandering the temples (and the terrace of elephants for a good while)…the pictures will be better than my descriptions. But yes, they were beautiful – still unsure on how people manage a 5-day trip of it though?!

We made a brief stop in Cambodia’s second-largest city Battambang, where we attempted to go to the gym. It was very hot and none of the machines worked, so I just ended up in the pool. Our last Cambodian destination was Sihanoukville, a beach town on the Southern coast. Unfortunately monsoon season had already kicked in here and so the beach only got a brief glance…the town had little to offer so we soon set off on our last-karaoke bus to the Vietnamese border (this time it was focused on Ronan Keating) and onward to Saigon, known by the book as Ho Chi Minh City.