12 Feb - The lights on the boat blasted on at 5:30 this morning! There was certainly no gentle dimmer switch to soften the blow. A few people almost banged their heads on the low ceilings, and everyone started to trickle out onto deck (some with spectacular morning faces) to watch the sunrise, or get cleaned up. We'd had a good night's sleep, but it was a bit strange to wake up on a floating dormitory and realise we were only a few kilometers from the Cambodian border. We'd arrived in Chau Doc some time during the night - this is another bustling floating market, with boats zooming around carrying wares from all over Vietnam. The most heavily traded items seemed to be food, followed closely by beer, and then not so closely by household goods such as pans, forks, etc.

The crew were up and looking pretty spritely, and they cooked us breakfast. A few of the group went touring round the markets in smaller boats, but we hung out on deck chairs on the roof, just watching the world go by. At around eight-ish, we moved to another both with our luggage, and set off for Kaam Samnor.

On the way to the border, we stopped at a local Cham fishing village. We had a new guide, Jai, and she rowed us into the village and gave us a bit of history on the inhabitants. The Chams are a minority indigenous tribe, and are now predominantly Muslim. I guess that wasn't always the case, though, as they crop up in all the history books as clashing with the Angkorians during their period of dominance, and I think they sacked the Angkor capital at one stage. Listening to Jai talk, it was clear that they're considered pretty much second class citizens. They live a relatively marginal existence, mostly generating income through fishing and weaving.

THe villiage was a deeply depressing place. It was a montage of all the worst things about poverty - and I didn't feel at all comfortable being there. It came across as a kind of exhibit, but I'm still not sure of what. The place was incredibly dirty, and the houses were built on stilts, with notches showing the severity of the flooding each year. There was a single weaving loom, with one girl working quickly on it, turning out scarves to sell the visitors. The only other person that I saw doing anything active was an old man weeding in a small field; he must have been at least eighty years old. There were also a number of young kids wandering around selling food and necklaces, but our guide had asked us not to buy from them, as a ready source of income apparenly discourages them from attending school. The adults were all resting in hammocks - looking at the visitors with somthing like disdain on their faces, and I guess I can understand why,

I wasn't sure what we were meant to be taking away from there - maybe just a realisation that life is really tough for some segments of the population in Vietnam, and actually all over the world. It was difficult to know what the best thing to do to help was, and I felt weirdly voyeristic as part of the train of tourists winding through this village, clearly unwelcome in spite of their purchasing of local goods.

From the village, Jai took us on to a Vietnamese fish farm, and was at pains to point our that this was really how people ought to live. She pointed out the richest familing in the villiage; "With eight farms! And, look - that's their house - it has air conditioning!" The more time we spend in Veitnam, the more I realise that wealth and face are such central tenents of the society, and that she was really proud of the Vietnamese farmers sucess relative to the Chams.

We switched boats again, jumping across gangplanks in the middle of the river (with backpacks!), and set off for the Cambodian border. There were some really good people on the boat, including a Canadian couple who we talked to for a couple of hours. We watched the river go by, and it really is endless. Every bend brings something new - a fresh set of fish traps, local floating houses or businesses, or acres of farming land. I knew Vietnam was a heavily populated country, but understading some demographic statistic is a long way from the experience of seeing humanity winding away in profusion around every corner. Jai took our passports and Cambodian visa forms (and $22 each) and told the driver to let her off on the river bank. While we wound our way up to Vinh Xuong (the Vietnamese border town), she flagged down a moto driver, and sped off (no helmet, passports in a plastic bag!) to prearrange our visas. I think everyone was feeling a little worried to see their purple books disappearing into the sunset like that, so it was a real relief to see her waiting for us as we pulled into the only restaurant in Vinh Xuong for lunch before crossing the border.

We had lunch with Jet, Sauli (two interesting travellers we met on the boat) and another Dutch guy whose name I've forgotton, but who gave us some great routing advice for our trip, as he's travelled SE Asia extensively. Having seen how built up Vietnam is, we probably will try and spend more time than we'd originally planned in the remoter parts of Cambodia, and also try to get to Laos and maybe Myanmar. Jai handed round our passports after we'd finished - all with freshly stamped Cambodian visas, and was also able to swap all our remaining Vietnamese Dong into Cambodian currency. We needed to walk along the bank to the border crossing, and the restaurant owner's kids had already dragged our backpacks up the steep gangplanks and on to the banks - I saw one little boy carrying three large packs in one go! Stamped on the Vietnamese side - one more short hop in the boat, and then we were at the Cambodian border post.

The Cambodian side of the river is definately different - I think it's mainly a function of low population, although not completely. The temple architecture is all arches and pointed roof butresses, and some of this design is reflected in the houses. Generally Cambodia has a nice feel to it, as well - much more relaxed and calm than Vietnam. We carried on up the Mekong towards Phnom Penh - just enjoying the sun, and relaxing a bit after a few days of hectic transport schedules. We had a couple of hours before we were due to arrive in the capital, and so caught up on making notes in our diaries. and even slept a little.

A bit later than expected, the boat shuddered to a halt on the bank, and we disembarked with our bags. My first thought was that Phnom Penh was much smaller and dirtier than I'd expected, and that maybe the people who'd warned us away had been on to something, but we shortly established that we'd made landfall about 20km south of the city. With perfect twenty twenty hindsight, I realised I should have read the small print! After a short wait, we were bundled into a minibus for the remainder of the trip. Twelve of use were crammed in with all our backpacks - but luckily they obscured the view of the road! Extrapolating from the hooting and flying debris as we rally-drove the dirt road into town, it would have been a thrill, to say the least. After driving through Phnom Penh for a little while (it's quite a well laid out city), we pulled up outside a strange guest house in the city - obviously the boat transfer company have diversified their interests into accomodation. Making the most of their captive audience, they drove the van in through the gates of the courtyard, then in between rows of diners at the outside restaurant bar, and offloaded us 50cm from the reception desk, before presenting us with a price list for available rooms - $4 for a single standard, $8 with hot water! Using some unsuspecting Mexicans as human shields, we grabbed our bags and scarpered out the door.

After a few days of pretty rustic accomodiation, we'd decided to flashpack and splash out for a nicer pad. We'd booked a $40 room at the Renakse Hotel, which was just across from the King's palace. We took a tuk-tuk to the hotel through the streets of the city, which has great layout - wide boulevards and promenades along the river. 30 years of war, armed despots and socialism have taken their toll, but you can still see the rough diamond that is Phnom Penh shining through. Both Cheryl and I really liked the place at first sight - it's got that kind of feel that makes you want to stay.

They grounds of the Renakse hotel are magnificent. It's in a huge 5 acre villa right opposite the entrance to the Royal Palce. It's so nice that at first we thought we were in the wrong place. We checked, in were shown to our bedroom, which was huge, and and beautifully decorated in wood. We dropped out bags, and I went to run a bath - something I'd been looking forward to for about a week. Hmmmmm. No taps. I called reception; "Yes, sorry, that bath isn't operational, you'll have to shower." Ok - at that stage I was just happy to get clean. Turned on the shower, which was cold. "Yes, sorry about that, no hot water in the South wing today."

Oh well - it wasn't that cold, and the room was great. So after a walk around Phnom Penh and a quick dinner (Khmer cusine is a revalation - must learn how to make Beef Lok Lak!) we turned it, really happy to know that we had a full day ahead of us with no bus or boat journeys!