Head out and have a French pancake with wonderful Kampot honey. Very sweet which wakes me up along with my coffee. We decide to go up to Bokor National Park. After filling up with petrol we ride to the base of the mountain and buy our tickets for 50 cents. The road winds up into the mountains, the locals enjoying the last day of new year and heading up to the cooler climate. We weave around the cars struggling to negotiate the ever curving and steep roads. Temperature is dropping and it feels great. Has been added to my list of "little things". Back home I don't think as people we always appreciate what we have. We get to ticket booth and hand over one of the bits of paper. Checking my fuel gauge it appears I am down to a quarter. As Craig's is broken we head back to the park guards hoping there is somewhere to get petrol up here. He tells to fork to the right which will lead us down to petrol and a waterfall. We spot a local with glass bottles filled with petrol.
Trying to buy 2 litres each causes quite a bit of confusion but eventually our mobile lifeline is refilled. We pay 50 cents to see a waterfall but with no water it is unfortunately just a fall. There was a greater movement of liquid from the confused petrol vendor. We pass a large hall with music playing and can only assume celebrations for later. The guards laugh when we mention "no water" and we head up the winding road towards the top of the mountain. There is a hotel called the Highland hotel with a fountain outside, an oasis for the wealthy.
There are old French buildings dotted around including a church and an old casino. The eerie buildings a reminder of the KR.
Parking, we walk towards the old casino. A concrete skeleton looming over us. Heading through the shell, I try to imagine the French relaxing, gambling and enjoying the mountain retreat. Once outside the view is staggering. With the burned out casino a reminder of the past we enjoy Cambodia's peaceful present. The vista has lush jungle that has not been damaged yet, with Kampot off in the distance.
Helmets on we make the last leg up to the summit. A old temple sits at the edge of the mountain, predating Angkor. Craig gets stopped for photos, realising they don't require a midget in the picture, I join the paparazzi and take a photo. Several photos later one girl builds up the courage to get a photo alone with the giant. The smile on her face is enough to warm any heart.
Moving along roads with wisps of mist dancing through the trees, the coolness of the air a wonderful contrast to the relentless heat below. Deciding to not venture any further, feeling the tick tock of my fuel gauge, I enjoy every minute of the frosty journey down.
Once back we get our clothes back from launderette. Possibly the greatest little thing to appreciate so far.