Chasing Amy-Lou

Kampot, Cambodia;

With Karma now surely on my side, and with the sun yet again breaking through the midst of the wet season clouds that hung over the Kampot River, I decided to tempt the weather fate and hire out a bicycle!

One US Dollar will get you a rented bicycle for 24hours in Kampot, which is pretty cheap considering the price of everything else in Cambodia (it costs less to hire a scooter and fill the tank than it does for a steak dinner – just think about that for a moment). And after I had chosen the least battered one I could get my hands on, I once again found myself on the open road.

The lovely Danish woman who ran my hostel (she was The Viking in the hostel name, ‘Pepe and The Viking’) suggested I take a trip to Fish Island. So that’s exactly what I did.

Fish Island is the affectionate name given to the small island just over the river from Kampot town centre. It’s littered with salt fields and rice paddies, tiny little villages that house families with young children, and a mosque to cater for the island’s Muslim population. There’s also a primary school further down the main road (the only main road through the island), and kids can often be seen cycling between their houses (which are more like huts on stilts) and the school, dressed in full uniforms, western-style children’s rucksacks adorning their backs, chattering and laughing as they innocently frolic on this peaceful bit of land.

Cycling over the old bridge and taking a left turn, I followed the path along the river until I reached another bridge that would take me to the island. Away from the scooters and the cars, I soon found myself on a bumpy dirt road, with nothing but salt fields, trees, huts, and views stretched out before me. And it was peaceful, and it was still. There was something simple and primitive about Fish Island – there were no signs of 21st Century life (save for the odd car, and the odd TV set you could hear blaring from some of the huts); it felt stress-free, easy, quiet, and relaxed. And as I took my headphones out of my ears to listen to the world passing me by as I leisurely cycled over pot holes and through puddles, all I could hear was silence. No birds, no traffic, no ‘noise’. It was wonderful.

I spent a good hour and a half cycling round the island; chuckling at the kids as they shouted, “hello” every time I passed a group of them; breathing in the country air; surveying the landscape; enjoying being in the moment. And if it wasn’t for the sweltering midday sun that I was concerned would burn my already fragile skin, and the fact I could spy dark rain clouds creeping across the sky in the distance, I would’ve stayed a lot longer.

Alas, not wanting to fry, and certainly not wanting to get caught in a tidal monsoon, I returned to Kampot and set up camp in a quiet little Khmer restaurant where I ate some noodles for lunch and treated myself to a gin and tonic.

It had been ages since I’d had a tipple on the gin, so as the rain set in (naturally), pelting the pavements in an almighty fashion; and with a taste for booze on my lips, I spent the rest of the day slowly consuming alcohol – a couple of wines here, a couple of happy hour cocktails there, and a refreshing vodka and tonic to finish off my night. By 9pm I was feeling suitably relaxed (note: NOT drunk, just…chilled), so I took myself home.

A few days ago I wrote about how I’m having to contend with my feelings towards a lot of things happening in my life right now. And I am still figuring out how to process some of those feelings. Back at the hostel I received a phone call, and after a lengthy chat with a very special person, I concluded that my feelings – as confusing as they are – weren’t going to go away; if anything they were only going to get stronger. And I was alright with that. In fact, I was more than alright with that. Being in rainy Kampot this week had tested me, but after today, after tonight, I was adamant that only good things were going to come my way. Karma – if you will – wasn’t just ‘possibly’ on my side, she was definitely on my side.