Cambodia

I'm in Cambodia.

There are plenty of monks cut in perfect orange saffron robes, sheltering under dusty brollies.

Chippie is fun to travel with- he has enterprise written all over him. Last night we drank fresh cold draft beer like I hadn't yet here, in the Hotel Royal, masquerading as young rich things when it wasn't strictly necessary, but fun nonetheless.

Duk Tuk travelling is grimy and glorious.

I'm thinking of getting a quick close shave, that if I come to trust a Khmer with a knife to my throat.

I'm reading Rilke from Mike leisurely, slowly, repetitively. I started it at Ueno station and how far that seems from South East Asia and all the hotch potch and dirt and happy smiling faces and display.