Chasing Amy-Lou

Phnom Penh, Cambodia;

Today was my final full day in Cambodia; my last in Mainland South East Asia, and the end of an incredible seven weeks travelling – visiting places I never thought I’d get the chance to go to; seeing things I felt lucky to have seen; experiencing things not many people get to experience; and collecting a lot of memories along the way.

I was heading to Indonesia the following day, and the next few weeks would hopefully mean only relaxation and contemplation for me (much needed relaxation), before I (reluctantly) embarked on the long trip home, back to England.

I was coming to the end of a fantastic era; over the last three years I’d spent more time travelling than I had staying in one place; I had over three years worth of emotions to figure out, over three years worth of learning, and I had a hell of a lot more thinking to do. Returning to England in order to begin what I hope will be the career I’ve always dreamed about, I don’t see the end of this era as the end of my journey – I see it only as the beginning; hopefully the beginning of something else just as great.

This morning then, it was time to leave the children and my fellow volunteers behind and return to Phnom Penh. Completing the gift boxes and packages we’d started a couple of days earlier (which included nine coloured pencils, an exercise book, three toothbrushes and a tube of toothpaste), washing my linen and packing my bags, I said a fond farewell to Happyland.

It had been an emotional rollercoaster this last seven weeks – from landing in Ho Chi Minh and contending with crazy scooter traffic; taking my first ever sleeper train and sharing a cabin with a Vietnamese family; staying in the most wonderful homestay in Hoi An; scootering over mountains near Hue and Da Nang; taking night buses and painfully waiting at the side of roads for connecting transport; visiting Ha Long Bay and trekking in Sapa; discovering the beauty of Luang Prabang and getting to spend a morning with some elephants – the most magnificent beasts on this earth; getting soaked in Vang Vieng and finding an idyllic side to the seediness its reputation beheld; exploring the gorgeous Vientiane and taking lessons in Laotian history; landing in Siem Reap and marvelling at the ancient temples of Angkor Wat; re-visiting my passion for yoga and spending a week in the quirky town of Kampot; contending with bi-polar weather and drinking cocktails; spending time volunteering at a children’s centre close to Takeo; ingesting the atrocities that occurred at S21 and The Killing Fields; walking around Phnom Penh to try and get a feel for the richness and the blatant paradox of Cambodian culture and lifestyle; and finally, meeting some absolutely incredible, beautiful, gorgeous humans – learning, listening and compromising. It hadn’t all been a bed of roses, but it had been magnificent none the less, even through the tough times. I’d done so much…enough some would say…yet somehow I knew I still needed more.

Arriving back in Phnom Penh after hitching a lift and having an interesting journey in the back of a minivan that was packed with what I could only describe as flattened garden waste sacks, I tried to grasp a feel for the city. It was luscious and green, it was cosmopolitan and rich; it was busy and congested; there was laughter and love in the city, there was potential for greatness, and I could tell it was still rebuilding itself after the atrocities of the Khmer Rouge regime.

Yet beneath the hustle and bustle, beyond the beauty of its facade there was a seedy underbelly tone to the Cambodian capital. Petty theft and muggings occurred daily and were rife throughout the busy backpacker and tourist areas; the red light district catered only for men, objectifying women by displaying signs outside of bars and strip joints that had the words, “Happy Hour 3-7. We have many girls” and such like; there was an uneasy predatory feel among the ex-pats, with many old, white, fat western men exploiting and parading their young Cambodian women in a manner that made me feel sick; and then there were the fake and clever peddlers – the disabled, the monks, the seemingly poor, who knew exactly how to take advantage of travellers with money, extorting cash by making tourists feel sorry for them. Then there were the children – I’d expected to see more in the way of blatant child exploitation in Phnom Penh as I’d heard too many horrific stories about child trafficking and prostitution. Maybe I was blind to it, maybe it was happening right before my eyes. Yet despite there being a lot of children on the streets, I didn’t feel like they were in any danger; the traffickers had evaded me, and I just hoped I hadn’t been completely oblivious or ignorant to it all.

Phnom Penh interested and intrigued me. The Tonle Sap and Mekong Rivers that ran through the city created a calming effect; the gardens and communal picnicking/gathering areas did the same thing – beyond the traffic and away from the crowds, there were quiet places for contemplation. I would’ve liked to have spent a little more time there, getting to know the different areas of the city. It was vast. Extremely vast. And it was beautifully enticing with just a little bit of danger thrown in for good measure.

Treating myself to a couple of glasses of wine, I sat on my hostel balcony, deep in thought, contemplating life and love, as the night grew darker and the city lights grew brighter. I couldn’t make my mind up about Cambodia. I’d had fun there, I’d done some amazing things, and I’d developed an appreciation for and an understanding of the culture. However, unlike Vietnam and Laos, where I’d craved for more out of both countries, and would gladly go back and explore all over again, I couldn’t help but feel that with Cambodia, there was just a little something missing. Perhaps I needed to visit the islands. Perhaps I needed to get away from the big cities, perhaps I needed to explore the nature. Whatever it was, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. And even though I knew my indecisiveness about this country would play on my mind for a while, I couldn’t let it consume me, because my next adventure in Bali was on the horizon, and I could not wait for sunshine, beaches, yoga and hopefully, some kind of soul-easing clarity.