I’d separated my shoulder.
My AC joint was gone and so were our hopes of a stress free departure.
Fresh out of college and essentially broke, neither Brittany nor I owned a single trip ready belonging.
We saw something refreshing in taking just the basics, but committing to minimalism was proving harder than anticipated.
We had done our homework, but no amount of planning could defuse all of the pre-departure stress.
I was ready, we were ready, but doubt was building.
Unfortunately not all snags can be de-snared in a week.
The immobility sling was coming with us.
A whispering voice begged questions of prudence but where preparation left off determination picked up.
We had a vague plan and enough ambition to bridge the gaps.
Excited and loosely conscious we grabbed our packs and pin-balled up the jet-way.
Stepping out of the plane the temperature shift was dizzying.
Across 20 feet the temperature climbed 20 degrees, and even after midnight the humidity was crushing.
With bright smiles and agonizing persistence they ask and ask until no becomes yes.
In a moment of weakness I was the easy sell.
Brittany, generally far more willful than I, proved equally compliant.
The city looked seedier and more threatening with every block.
Time and time again the driver suggested we change our plans.
“Stop, no more… No more alleys, no more suggestions!
This time as we rolled to a stop fear overpowered logic.
We had arrived as promised at our overpriced destination.
We checked in and were showed to our room.
We threw down our bags, fell into bed and happily surrendered to exhaustion.
Never have I seen people of such resiliency or a culture of such warmth.
Bright smiles exist in impossible contrast to the bleak history that has plagued Cambodia.
Only now is it reappearing on the map as a Cambodian travel destination.
It was as relaxing as it was gorgeous.
The bungalows were cheap and the crab traps were always full by dinner.
In Kep the small town vibe was ever-present.
Life functioned on a first name basis and the economy worked on the honor system.
It was not only an isolated community but also a social one.
Town outings in a sling were laughable.
Curious glances followed my every move and I had the same interaction everywhere I went.
It felt as though I couldn’t go fifty feet without falling into the same conversation.
They would study my sling from a distance but eventually interest would outweigh their wariness.
“How hurt arm?
“Skiing?” The one word question would echo though a gathering crowd.
“Yeah, skiing, you know, like on snow.
A Cambodian group huddle would follow, and the charades game would begin.
“hahaha… yeah, snow.” I would say.
“No snow in Cambodi.” They’d retort.
More laughter more questions.
After having this conversation a few times my reputation preceded me.
By the time I left Kep I was a stranger to no one.
The more established bus-stops are economies unto themselves and they explode into life with the every arrival.
Jonestown awakens and young soft-spoken Khmer girls become boisterous smooth talking saleswomen.
Other so called bus-stops are seemingly arbitrary locations at which the bus driver inexplicably knew to slow down.
Sometimes passengers were going home to, or visiting from, what seemed like the middle of nowhere.
How the driver knew where and when to stop was often beyond me.
Leaving town, trees lined the street and guided the way.
Rounding a corner our peaceful morning collided with a hopeless crowd.
Brittany tried to raise question with our driver but his Khmer spoken one word answer provided no clues.
Driving on, our tuk-tuk met others and our procession continued.
Behind us the crowd shrank into the shadows, and their murmurs soaked into the darkness.
On we went with unanswered questions and lingering concern.
As we approached Ankor the traffic began to build.
There was nothing but trees and tuk-tuks.
At more than 26,000 feet in perimeter, its size was all I could think about.
The temple was just as I hoped it would be; the dawn photo opportunity was not.
Instead, I just wandered off.
Leaving Brittany to tangle with the mob, I simply gave in and let curiosity guide me.
What I found was what I pretty much already knew: Tourists are like moths to a flame.
I took it in, wrestling free, in absolute solitude.
Travel savvy and endlessly witty, we liked them as much as we enjoyed listening to them bicker.
Ethan explained that they were patients waiting on an emergency clinic to admit them.
(A recent outbreak of Dengue Fever was wreaking havoc.)
Mournful, and silent, Brittany and I walked on following our new guides.
We followed them through Angkor Wat and the remnants of what was once a prominent empire.
The magnificence of Siem Reap is rooted in its grand scale, but it shines in its ethereal detail.
Ornate engravings cover every visible inch of every hand carved stone.
Walking in and amongst the temples is overpowering- as much so as any experience I have ever had.
Millions of construction hours went into every stone mammoth.
Words fail; the photos are a start.
