HP sauce! Last seen in August 2010! And then baked beans with melted Cheddar cheese on toast! Who said Cambodia is less developed than Vietnam?! Or China or Russia for that matter, they never had HP sauce! Add to this the large, as in the traditional English mug, coffees, the fifty pence draft Angkor lagers in happy hour (which seems to be most of the day, despite the usual singular) later on, and the finest selection of British indie / rock / acoustic tunes we've heard since Glastonbury last June, including Oasis, the Stones, Weller, James, Radiohead, just to name a few, and I could happily have stayed at Blissful Guesthouse in Kampot, Cambodia for a few weeks!

However, before I lay bare the full extent of my shallow-minded priorities in travelling and life, there are probably a few other aspects of Cambodia, observed from our initial steps into the country, that I should mention, more significant than the newfound availability of brown breakfast sandwich sauce (which is a general availability, we've found more elsewhere since!). (And please note, Rob L, that it's all been HP, not Daddies, so let this be the end of your ridiculous "Daddies is better" nonsense).

It sounds stupid, but the first really noticeable, and surprising, thing was the simple fact that Cambodia looked so different, instantly upon crossing the border. So very different from Vietnam, despite, you'd think, being climatically and geologically very similar to its eastern neighbour. Although we couldn't quite put our finger upon a single, major reason why. I think the trees and vegetation are certainly different, although frequently scarce, and perhaps the fields are a tad greener and less golden. Water buffalos have suddenly been replaced by much more scrawny looking white cattle, with huge, arching bones at the napes of their necks. Also, the buildings are no longer of the narrow four or five storey design, with colourfully painted facades and decoratively sculpted balcony balustrades, despite, contrary to my initial presumption, the fact that French collonial boundaries did extend this far. And I think it may just be the case that there's generally less of a human impact, with fewer and smaller buildings, less traffic (definitely fewer motorbikes!), and, it goes without saying of course, fewer people.

Anyway, this is only a bit of observation, neither good nor bad, so onto Kampot, our first destination. Loved it there! And not only because of our HP sauce toting guesthouse (a new record of five dollars a night for the room, between three of us, incidentally!). The town is a fantastically sleepy, chilled out little place. With dusty, wide roads and a snails pace of life, it felt like being on the set of a Wild West film at times, and I half expected the peace to suddenly be disturbed by a drunken cowboy being thrown out onto the street through the saloon doors of a bar, or a bolted horse galloping past, saddle falling to one side and reins flaying in the air (note - I didn't really half expect this as I'm not an idiot, I'm just recreating atmosphere). And the people have been lovely so far. Genuine, friendly, and much less in your face than was often the case in Vietnam (there are exceptions to this, of course, most notably in the case of the hawkers and beggars along Sihanoukville's beaches, but not in general). When I decline an offer of a motorbike or tuk tuk ride with a smile, I tend to get a smile in return, despite the business not coming their way this time. Cafe and restaurant hosts usually let you look at their menus without standing a foot in front of you, selling you their fare. And I needed to buy (another) new watch the other day (three dollars, not overly extravagant), and was both pleased and amazed that the shopkeeper's eyes didn't even move from her little television set just inside the door (probably some Cambodian equivalent of Corrie - or maybe even Corrie itself, comically dubbed!), whilst I perused her range of mostly non-working D&G, Nike and Adidas replicas.

We spent three days in Kampot, cycling around the beautiful countryside. Much more the stereotype we'd expected in Vietnam, in fact, with the straw, conical hatted workers bent down, harvesting their crop by hand in the endless rice fields, dotted with occasional coconut palms. We hired bikes for a couple of days, stopping the first afternoon to do some kayaking up the river that Kampot sits upon (and, in Paula and Sara's case, having missed the small jetty of the kayak hire place, accidentally back down the river a couple of kilometres, resulting in a very tiring and arm-aching paddle back!). And on the second day we visited some nearby caves, with the help of some local kids. Help not entirely wanted, as naturally it wasn't free, but in the interests of returning to bikes with air still in the tyres, we agreed, and did at least see some pretty cool parts of the caves that I'm sure we otherwise wouldn't have. And then we stopped off at "Secret Lake" towards the end of the day, which was marked, not very secretly, but very clearly, on our map. Also, it was massive and had food sellers around it. I think the secret may be out. Reminds me a bit of our scheduled stop in Halong Bay at "Surprising Cave", which, of course, being clearly written on our itinerary, wasn't at all. And then on our third day around Kampot we trekked up through some banana and papaya plantations to a local waterfall and pool. Not as warm as Phu Quoc sea water! But it was incredibly refreshing, on what must be one of the hottest treks I've ever been on, so no complaints. And an additional bonus, the trip kept us in papayas for the next couple of days! (Not stolen, I must hasten to add, as the farmer gave us permission to take the prematurely ripe ones). And each evening we just chilled out with a few beers in the gardens of Blissful Guesthouse - brilliant time!

But all good things come to an end, and we'd booked Christmas in Sihanoukville a couple of weeks earlier, so we headed on again on the 23rd.