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I don't recall any other customs posts where I have waited for my passport to be processed beneath the shade of mango trees. I had been corresponding for the last couple of weeks with a lady called Phan Mai who for a little extra coin promised to get us across the border before any of the bigger boats, and to Phnom Penh by lunch time. Not only did she fail to disappoint, but she turned out to be quite a character, and was in reception yesterday evening awaiting our arrival to practice her head and shoulder massaging techniques.
So, after an hour of photo opportunities with tumbledown riverside houses and early morning fishermen, down came the Vietnamese flag at the sharp end of our boat and up went the Cambodian one. Strictly speaking, this is actually the Bassac River, a tributary of the Mekong, which we met again as we docked at Phnom Penh. We have a bus leaving here in only 3 hours, so sadly that's all the time we have to explore the capital city. With its pavement cafes and Sunday picnickers along the river front, it has a very French feel. I would have loved to experience more of it than an apple pie, a beer and a wat (temple).
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