Battambang, Cambodia

Wednesday, May 7, 08
The heat is intense, even at the start of day. The French, who colonized this region, left some habits which we are benefiting from. Breakfast is a baguette and spread cheese, with a true coffee and fresh milk. Believe it! Baguette. Oh, the taste of that warm, hard crust in my mouth is heavenly.
Waiting for Stewart and Claire, John and I walk to the river and determine that the water level is low. With the rainy season starting, the river will quickly rise to overflow the banks. Then, we walk through an indoor market and I buy a new pair of flip flops. Good-bye to the pair I bought in Katherine, Australia. They have served their tour and now are torn.
With Colonial French architecture around us, we find a tuk tuk which will carry the four of us. Hiring him for the 4 hour drive around the city, we visit ruins older than Angkor Wat, a roadside family making paper thin cakes, the old railway station (Still one train a week on tracks which are separated at places and have a wobble to them. 290 km to Phnom Penh takes 24 hours), the old French colonial section, and to the spot where the citizens of Battambang were subjected to the genocide of the Pol Pot regime. This last spot was heart wrenching. Ponds nearby still contain thousands who will never be found. Arriving at the dock, we find that a boat runs once daily to Siem Reap, the entrance point to Angkor Wat. We reserve and pay for four tickets. The downstream trip should take between 5-7 hours.