Our bus set off from Siem Reap and followed the same route through the beautiful countryside back to Phnom Penh. I slept on and off for most of the journey.

When we arrived in Phnom Penh we had to wait for a while at a hot central bus station until it was time to board the coach to Kampot. We bought some snacks and used the facilities, then gladly climbed into the air conditioned cool of the coach and took our seats.

We then set off on the journey to Kampot, heading south through some more fantastic scenery. As we neared our destination, we began to pass big hills emerging from the rice paddies all around. We took a long route round by the coastal town of Kep, instead of going to straight to Kampot. This detour would normally have annoyed us, but in this case it was more than welcome, as we got to see the view along the coastline as we drove through Kep. The journey was also perfectly timed for, as we cruised along beside the sea, the sun began to set and illuminated the sky in the most astounding array of orange and pink colours. We watched, enraptured, as this lightshow unfolded before us, ending just after we left Kep for the final stretch of the journey to Kampot.

We pulled into the bus station in the small town of Kampot after dark, and, not sure where we were as usual, enslisted a tuk tuk driver to take us to a street with a concentration of guest houses. The first couple we looked at were full, but looked nice. We ended up checking out a new and rather sterile hotel across the road from these places, and found they had a great clean room for a good price. We humphed our bags up to the room, dropped them off then went across the road to one of the other guest houses, Blissful, to have some dinner.

The meal we got at this place was sensational, and we stuffed our faces with huge tiger prawns baked with garlic and the famous Kampot black pepper, as well as a massive tuna salad, accompanied by some cheesy chips and, of course, a beer. The setting was nice too, at an outdoor table under an arbour of twisted tree branches.

Via the guest house's wifi connection we managed to get in touch with Conrad, who we realised was in Kampot at the same time. I arranged to go and meet him while Lucy, who was exhausted, went back to the guest house to go to bed.

I walked through the quiet streets of Kampot past a few pointlessly huge roundabouts with very little traffic, until I found the restaurant where Conrad and his dad were. I sat with them and the British and American owners of the restaurant, some really nice guys, and we passed the rest of the evening chatting, drinking beers and listening to music on an iPod hooked up to the restaurant's sound system. Conrad gave me a lift back around the corner on his moto before heading off into the night to his guest house, some 8km away from the town along the riverbank.

Back at the guest house I had a quick browse online then joined Lucy for a sleep and a nice long lie.

Our room, which had seemed bargainous was actually far too warm during the night as we only had a fan. Lucy didn't sleep well at all, and woke up feeling pretty poorly, so the next morning we moved to an air conditioned room in the same guest house, which was much more comfortable.

After shifting all our stuff, we decided to explore some of Kampot. Having seen how quiet the streets were, traffic-wise, we decided to hire a little automatic scooter for $5 a day from the guest house. Equipped with our mighty steed, complete with a ripoff Hello Kitty mat in the footwell, we cruised down the streets the short distance to the riverfront. The whole town of Kampot was strung along a picturesque wide, slow moving river with two road bridges and a rail bridge crossing it. Along the riverfront was a promenade and a street lined with chilled out bars and restaurants. The place had a great laid-back, easy vibe and we liked it from the start.

Down at the river we decided we needed a cold drink as the sun was blazing down so we stopped at a bar, Rikitikitavi, and had some fruit juice and some tasty sorbet, sitting on an upstairs balcony watching the languid river slide by in the sunshine. Whilst there we got a call from Conrad who was at another cafe just down the street. Realising that we were in fact hungry as well as thirsty, we paid the bill and drove the short distance down the street to the Rusty Keyhole cafe, run by a couple of cheery English guys and one of their Cambodian wives.

We found Conrad with a monstrous fry-up in front of him, which made my mouth water enough that I had to order one for myself, while Lucy ordered a cheese toastie. We tucked into this feast and were soon full and satisfied. Whilst eating, Conrad had a call from his dad which seemed to cause him some consternation. When we asked what was going on, he told us that when his dad had left the restaurant the night before, an hour or so before we finally called it a night, he had run out of petrol on his moto and left it at the side of the road a few kilometres outside of town. In the morning when he returned the moto was gone and the guest house needed to be compensated for the loss. We resolved from then on to make sure we had enough petrol before we set off anywhere on our scooter!

Conrad had mentioned the night before that one of the guest houses on the opposite bank of the river, where there were lots of basic bamboo bungalows right on the water's edge, offered stand-up paddle boarding. I had fancied trying it for a while and Conrad was experienced, having done it regularly when at home in Texas. Lucy really wasn't feeling well so we nipped back to the guest house and I dropped Lucy off to relax in the air conditioned cool of our room.

Conrad and I then drove through the town on our motos, crossed the rickety but fun 'old bridge' across the river with its takeoff ramps at either end and turned right to drive down the riverside road behind the numerous basic guest houses.

We arrived at Ollie's, the place where the paddle boards could be hired and found the proprietor out on the bamboo deck overhanging the river at the rear. We arranged to take the boards out for an hour or so and she slid the long inflatable craft into the water and equipped us with some paddles.

I managed to crawl out onto my board, following Conrad's instructions, and we soon paddled out into the centre of the river. The scenery was great with the bamboo guest houses along one bank of the river and reedy plants along the other, with the town downstream beyond the railway bridge and a view upstream to the nearby hills rising from the horizon.

I soon braved an attempt at standing up on my board and, although it took a while and I fell in a couple of times, I got the hang of paddling while balanced upright and we began cruising upstream.

After rounding a wide bend in the river we spotted some fancy-looking guest houses or holiday homes on the right back of the river so set a course for them to take a look. As we approached we noticed in front of one of the buildings a bamboo deck had been erected over the river and beside this was a crude ropeswing dangling over the water. We couldn't resist and had a few shots on the swing, then sat around the deck for a while before deciding to paddle back to Ollie's.

Back at Ollie's we had some water and then hopped on our bikes to head out to the place Conrad was staying so I could have a look. We had to drive a few more kilometres down the road before turning off onto a bumpy dirt road, lined on either side by deadly-looking tall rusty barbed wire fences. A bit down the road we turned into a site where a big raised wooden building was nearing completion, surrounded by a few basic bungalows and overlooking a really picturesque bend in the river with the mountains in the distance. This was the 'Green House' being built by Dave, another English guy, and the place where Conrad was staying.

I had a look around the place, deciding that if we came back to Kampot we should definitely stay in one of the riverside places as they had such a great outlook and relaxed feel. On the porch of the Green House looking out over the river, I found Conrad's sheepish-looking dad, a bit down in the dumps after his moto loss incident. I left the two to themselves, arranging to meet up with Conrad later that evening for some dinner.

Hopping back on my Hello Kitty scooter, I made my way back down the dirt track and cruised back to Kampot along the dusty road in the late afternoon sun. I bounced up over the old bridge and cut through the streets and around the huge roundabouts back to our guest house, where I parked the bike and headed up to our room. I found Lucy sleeping in the dark, cool room having spent most of the day in bed. She was, upon waking, feeling much better than she had been earlier, so it didn't seem as if she'd wasted her day.

As she'd been stuck inside all day, I suggested that we nip down to the river to watch the sunset. We hopped back on the moto and cruised down to the riverfront street, then found a bar with a great view over the river to the hills and sat down with a drink. We watched the sun set over the hills behind the river with some great colours, then hung around until Conrad met us at the bar.

We all rode back to Blissful to get some dinner as we'd enjoyed it so much the night before. We ended up ordering the awesome Kampot pepper tiger prawns and a salad again, as well as some korko fish soup, a local dish. After dinner we stayed around Blissful for a while, before going to check out ABC bar, run by a slightly eccentric German Frank Zappa enthusiast called Johan.

We tried some interesting drinks at ABC including a sweet local rice liquer which tasted like rice pudding, and rice wine flavoured with rumbutan and chatted to the other customers, including the guys from the restaurant the night before, before nipping back to the guest house reaasonably early and heading to bed.

We got an early start the next morning as we had a fairly busy day planned. The first stop was back across the road at Blissful again where we had a tasty breakfast of a banana pancake for me and a bacon roll for Lucy. From there we rode to the petrol station, filled up the bike's tank and then drove through town, across the old bridge, then out a long straight road leading away from town.

On our right hand side we could already see our destination, the huge Bokor hill, rising tree clad and massive from the otherwise fairly flat terrain. We continued out through the countryside on a main road until we encountered the turn off for Bokor after 20km or so. A straight road led us towards the hill, along which we had to stop at a booth to pay a park entrance fee for the area, before crossing the rope used as a barrier which the attendant dropped to the ground. From there we drove a short distance before our ascent began.

Until recently the only way up the hill had been a rough dirt track. Now, however, a new road was under construction and was almost completed, allowing vehicles easier access to the top of the hill where resorts were being built by the Chinese who had purchased the whole hill. We set off on this new, smooth road which immediately began climbing up the mountain. Although, in patches to begin with, it was unfinished the road where it was complete was smooth and excellent to ride up, and we were soon at an elevation where we could look out over miles and miles of surrounding countryside.

The road switched back with very Alpine hairpin bends and continued upwards with sweeping curves hugging the contours of the hill. As we continued our ascent we rounded the hill to where we had a view over the expanse of flat land towards the sea, with Kampot visible along the river far below in the distance. On our left side the steep hillside rose above us, thick with prehistoric-looking jungle.

It was at this point that we encountered the part of the road still under construction, and made our way carefully along the graded but unsealed rough surface of the road with a steep drop to our right. Once we passed this section we were back on smooth road for the rest of the journey. We continued winding upwards, passing a ridiculously laden minibus carrying what we later found out to be workers for the construction further up the hill and, evidently, most of their worldy possessions.

Shortly after passing them and curving round more switchbacks we emerged to an open area of hillside where a huge Buddha statue was under construction on a rise above the road, and some abandoned villas were off to the left, with incredible views over the flat plain between the hill and the sea, as well as distant islands. We parked the bike up here and wandered around the desolate shells of former fancy holiday homes, evidently long abandoned but now partially inhabited by locals.

After checking out these cool villas, we got back on the bike and carried on up the road. Although we still undulated up and down we were basically on the top of the hill, but still had a bit of distance to cover until we reached our final destination, the old French hill station and resort at the end of the road. The road to get there took us past a big roundabout with a turnoff down another wide, under-construction dirt road then up past the monstrous casino and hotel complex under construction in an oddly-chosen hollow on the top of the hill with absolutely no view. Beyond this concrete-shelled hive of activity we passed a small reservoir surrounded by old buildings, an abandoned red-brick church from the French colonial days, and what Conrad had referred to, appropriately, as the 'UFO tower'. Finally beyond all this we reached the former resort, perched high on the hill with a jaw-dropping view out to sea far below.

Sadly, the abandoned building was fenced off and encased in scaffolding as it was under renovation. We were able to nip through the fence to get a look and take some photos though, as well as sit at the wall at the edge of the sheer drop down to the coastal plain far below. It was a great day and we spent quite a while just taking in the view before getting back on the bike and driving a little bit further up the road.

Here, the metalled surface petered out and we bumped down a dirt track past some tall radio antennae to some more abandoned villas, hiding in amongst wildly overgrown grass. These windowless shells provided a distraction for a good hour as we scrambled around their eerie interiors and took plenty of photos, trying to imagine what they would have looked like in their day, with glass in their picture windows, coverings on the walls and furniture in the rooms. After larking about in the ruins for a while, during which time I managed to slice open my hand on the sharp concrete edge of a window frame, we got back on the bike and started to make our way back down the hill.

We stopped off to have a look at the massive Vegas-like casino resort being built and wondered what the area would look like in a couple of years once it was all completed, then carried on to the big roundabout we had passed earlier. We turned off here, and then made our way down the 'road' towards what we hoped was a waterfall we had heard about.

The road was only in the early stages of construction, and we had to pass diggers and bulldozers gouging out and flattening the earth as we bumped past on our Hello Kitty scooter, following the dirt road for quite some distance until we eventually reached the end of the road, still being dug. Here, we turned off at some portacabins and parked at what we knew was the entrance to the waterfall. What would have once been in the middle of nowhere on the hillside was now the site for the construction of what looked like another hotel, which would have the big road leading right to it.

We made our way on foot over huge slabs of rough stone the size of cars, laid as probably the base for some sort of driveway, down through some trees until we emerged at the waterfall.

We were at the top of the first stage of the falls, where a small river poured over thickly layered slabs of rock into a wide, ankle deep pool some 15m below, before disappearing over another edge at the far end of the pool into a deep jungle valley beyond. We had a look at the falls from the top before crossing the river on some large stepping stones, then picking our way down a steep rough path through the trees to the level of the wide, flat pool at the bottom of the first part of the falls.

Down here, we were able to check out the second stage of the falls from just beside where the water poured over a sheer ledge dramatically to a pool below. We sat on a big rock watching the falls for a bit, then took of our shoes and waded through the shallow pool below the first cascade, getting a great closeup look at the water as it splashed down the stepped rocks to where we were.

We timed our visit to the falls well, arriving just between some minibus loads of tourists, one group of whom we had met at the hill station earlier. When the group arrived, we left the rock we were siting on and climbed down to the second part of the falls for a closer look, peering out through the leaves of trees clinging to the rocky hillside at the torrent pouring over the cliffside. We then scrambled back up to the bike, just as the minibus was leaving. The couple from the group that we'd spoken to earlier casually threw down a challenge to race us to the bottom of the hill, which we jokingly accepted.

Not wanting to get beaten straight away, we hopped back on 'Kitty' and revved the 100cc engine before taking off up the bumpy road back to the big roundabout. Somehow we managed to stay ahead of the minibus all the way back past the construction works, possibly thanks to us being able to weave in between the potholes, dumper trucks and bulldozers while the bus had to hang back, and even for part of the journey down the hill. In the end though, the minibus proved faster on the downhills and corners, and passed us to a great tooting of our horns. However, their lead was short-lived as we realised we had the edge on the uphill sections of the road, zipping past on our little scooter to the hilarity of the occupants of the minibus.

This game continued as we wound down the hillside until a general downward trend in elevation saw the minibus acquire an unbeatable lead. We continued the rest of the journey in the late afternoon sun, stopping to take some photos of the view over Kampot as we made our way downhill, enjoying having the smooth, winding road almost to ourselves.

Eventually we reached the toll booth at the bottom and we were soon on the main road driving back to Kampot. We arrived back into town shortly before sunset, just in time to take a seat at a riverside bar to watch the lightshow with a beer. With the sun down, we scooted down the road to the Rusty Keyhole again, where we ordered their famous baby back ribs, accompanied by a big pile of mash and some coleslaw. This feast was followed by two huge slices of lemon meringue pie, leaving us satisfactorily stuffed.

After our dinner, we got back on the bike to go back to the guest house. We left the bike parked outside then walked across the road to Blissful, where we'd seen an advert for a poker tournament which was starting imminently.

We got some drinks and signed up for the poker, then found ourselves at one of two tables with a group of fellow players, most thankfully novices like ourselves. Unfortunately one of the players at our table was the most irritating, patronising Australian girl who had an undeservedly high opinion of herself. Influenced as much by my desire to beat her as the good cards I'd been dealt, I went all in on the first hand, and was gutted when I lost out to her. For my gutsy performance I was rewarded a free shot of Kampot black pepper-infused vodka on the house, which I drank in a second but felt the burn from for a good 5 minutes.

Lucy stayed in for a few more hands, winning one with a particularly excellent and unlikely move which resulted in a patronising comment from the Australian idiot along the lines of 'oh, that was a good way to get back in the game' delivered in a mother-speaking-to-simple-child tone which was almost enough to make me want to hit her. Once Lucy was knocked out of the game we moved over to another table in the bar to get away from the girl, and to finish our drinks.

We were soon joined by an Irish girl, Emma, who had been playing at the same table as us. We got chatting and were then joined by her boyfriend, Enda, who had been knocked out as well. The four of us had some more drinks and talked for a while as the tournament played out in the background. We were dismayed to see the annoying Australian get through to the final but thankfully she was beaten in the end.

With the poker concluded and our energy levels running very low, we said goodnight and made our way across the road and upstairs to bed where we conked out until 10am the next day.

When we got up, we stuck in some laundry at the guest house, booked a bus to Phnom Penh for the following day, then hopped on Kitty to drive down to the riverside. We once again partook in the huge cooked breakfast at the Rusty Keyhole, before fuelling up our steed and rolling out of town, this time in the direction of Kep, the coastal town we'd passed through on our way down from Phnom Penh on the bus.

We took a long, straight road out of Kampot and into the beautiful countryside of rice paddies, stilt houses and water buffalo. After crossing a big bridge we made a turn off onto a bright orange, dusty dirt road which cut straight through some trees and past some really picturesque, colourful local houses before terminating in front of a flooded quarry at the base of a tall, rocky outcrop. This was the site of the caves of Phnom Chhnork which we hoped to check out.

A soon as we pulled into the little building at the end of the road a group of kids ran over to us, asking if we wanted to be guided around the cave. We said no thanks, but they told us to park the scooter under the cover of the little nearby building where there was an old guy sitting, then led us towards the cave even though we'd said no.

We couldn't really get away from the kids so we followed them into the cave, through a narrowish opening into a tall chamber open to the sky above. We walked through this with the kids giving us some details about the cave. In one corner we could see a few red bricks which were actually part of an ancient brick temple built inside the cave which had been destroyed by the Khmer Rouge. At the end of the first chamber, we reached a little hole that we had to climb up a ledge to get through. It was pretty slippery and a tight fit, and Lucy decided at this point that exporing the cave wasn't for her. I was really keen to go on, so one of the kids offered to take her back to the nearby entrance while I continued on with the others.

Therefore I scrambled up through the hole and was led on a fantastic route through the caves, which were much more extensive than I had imagined. My guides at one point gave me the choice of taking the 'easy' or 'adventurous' route and of course I opted for the latter. Therefore we ended up walking, scrambling, climbing and crawling through huge caverns with fig tree roots dangling down amid rays of sunshine, up rock faces and through tiny gaps and narrow cracks, and even climbing down a tree branch employed as a ladder. The highlight though was a big fig tree root hanging from the cave roof which could be used as a rope swing. Oh, and my efforts at singing in Khmer which had the kids in stitches.

I thoroughly enjoyed my time in the cave, and emerged dusty, sweaty and smiling after making my way around the circuit of passages to find Lucy waiting at the entrance. We walked back to get the bike and I reached into my pocket to get some money to pay the kids. I was only going to give them a couple of dollars but since they had been so funny and were good guides, I thought I'd be generous and handed over a $5 bill, expecting big smiles and thank yous. Instead I got a whiney 'Can you pay ten dollars?'. Until this point I thought the guides were great little guys, but this shattered the illusion and reminded me too much of the money-grabbing mercenaries in Vietnam. I told them they should be happy with the 5 dollars and shouldn't be so rude before hopping on the bike and setting off down the dirt road.

Once back on the main road we turned left and followed the signposts through the countryside to Kep. We soon found ourselves in this small coastal village, at one point a popular holiday retreat but now populated with mainly abandoned seaside villas, which we passed as we cruised along the seaside road, with a view over to some nearby small islands.

We drove down a road past a long line of basic seafood restaurants right on the water's edge and to the main promenade of the town. We cruised along this, passing some villas being constructed or renovated, alongside a number of very atmospheric abandoned ones. The sea side of the new dual carriageway boulevard was lined with little raised picnic pagodas, intended for families to spend a day in by the seaside.

After cruising around the limited streets of Kep, and scrambling around inside another abandoned villa overgrown and crumbling, we drove a little way up a dirt track leading to the hill behind Kep. This led to the small national park which the hill occupied and we thought we might drive the 8km loop around the hill but were put off this idea when we reached a gate and realised we'd have to pay for the privilege. We didn't have enough time for it to be worth paying for, so we turned around and drove back to the seafood restaurants we'd passed earlier.

When we arrived at the restaurants we found one which we'd read good reviews about, parked up the bike and found a seat right at the far end of the seating area, directly over the gently lapping water below us with a great view out to the small islands in the distance. It was a little early to eat dinner so we ordered some drinks and relaxed for a bit just enjoying the view, and watching the locals wading out in the shallow waters to set and check pots in which they were catching the various crustaceans served up in the restaurants.

I started nodding off in the heat sitting at the edge of the restaurant's balcony, and kept having to get up and walk around to stay awake. Eventually we decided it was time to order some food, and decided on some crab fried with Kampot green pepper as well as prawns cooked in spices with coconut. Our food was brought to us and we set about the shelling of the creatures, which took some time but was worth it as we were able to tuck in to the shell-free and utterly scrumptious feast as we watched the sun set out over the sea.

We polished off our crab and prawns just after the sun had set, then decided we'd better get back to Kampot. We paid the bill and headed out to Kitty, firing up the engine and turning on the lights, of which we discovered only the front worked, and that only with the dimmest possible glimmer of light, barely enough to light a few feet in front of the bike. Luckily we had our LED head torch with us so I strapped it on, stuck on the full beam and set off into the night to get us back to Kampot.

What followed was one of the most stressful but hilarious journeys we had undertaken, as we puttered along the road being hit in the face by innumerable insects, which had descended just after nightfall, lighting our way with a head torch and trying to avoid potholes on the Cambodian countryside roads, not to mention drivers overtaking us, who Lucy alerted to our presence by holding our mobile phone behind her with the little light turned on. The journey seemed to go on forever, and was exhausting as I gripped the handlbars and strained my eyes into the darkness beyond my torch's beam but eventually we crossed the big bridge and entered the outskirts of Kampot. The lights from buildings made it easier to see and we made our way through the streets and, finally, back to our guest house where we took a shower and crashed out exhausted.

In the morning we packed all our stuff then carried it downstairs to the hotel lobby where we waited for our bus pickup. This turned out to be one guy on a little moto, who expected to take the two of us and our huge bags to the bus. I couldn't be bothered arguing so stuffed my bag in between the guy's legs and hopped on the bike behind him. It turned out the bus was just around the corner, so I got off and waited as the guy returned to pick up Lucy. We then stuffed our bags into the luggage compartment of the bus and called the Number 9 hotel in Phnom Penh to arrange a free pickup which they'd offered us. We got the driver to speak to the staff at the hotel to tell them where and when we'd arrive in Phnom Penh, then hopped on the bus and found a seat for the journey.