...Shit-anoukville

We'd been forewarned about Sihanoukville's Ibiza style vibe, tacky western shops and hastle-y beaches, not to mention the sex tourism. Shunning the notorious Serendipity beach and unimpressed with the 'town' we resolved to find our own beach in a national park.... We set off in glorious sunshine, pack lunches wrapped and proceeded to circle Sihanoukville, soon realising that we really did need a map. This was soon supplied by a bemused concierge at an out of town posh hotel. After battling some rather testing inclines on the Cmabodian motorway we arrived at park head quarters, met with beautiful photo's of paradisical and more importantly deserted beaches. After paying national park entrance fee and being reassured that the ominous cloud in the distance was nothing to worry about, we headed onwards. Within minutes, we could see a monsoonal wall of rain approaching. Optimistically donning anorak and glasses and heading the wardens advice, we blindly battled on. Quite literally. When it got to the stage that we couldn;t see or control the bike, we turned back, the thought of the beach rapidly losing it's appeal. After completing what has to be the scariest moto drive ever; rivers, unrelenting winds that swpt us off the road and bruising rain, we consoled ourselves with and irish coffee as we sheepishly ate our picnic lunch amongst the Noah's ark scene unfloding outside. It was clear the monsoon had arrived. We resolved to leave the following day, the idea of Ireland hoping into Thailand rapidly diminishing. It was at this rather sorry moment that we met the hunting shooting gap yarrrr brigade. Inevitably leading to endless socio-political debates which left us banging our head on a brick wall. We were soon, much to our surprise, rescued by a friend from home and all headed off to a beach club to celebrate her birthday. With three hours sleep and the remnant of neon paint we jumped aboard what was to be one of many buses to Bangkok.

Crabs in Kep

Eager to escape the city, our destination were Kampot and Kep; two seaside villages famed for their fresh crabs. From the grapevine, these were Cambodia's up and coming hotspots- one of those get there before it's too late places. After a grand tour of each and every guesthouse, we settled on a friendly irish haunt, complete with crazy golf, pool, table football, communal TV and the friendliest staff imaginable. On the recommendation of our guesthouse manager, we set about on a push bike tour of the slat flats and neigbouring vicinity. Not having learnt from previous experience, we were still without head gear, again underestimating Cambodia's sun, a force that even factor 50 couldn't reckon with. We again continued our policy of blind perseverence, two hours later. we found ourselves at the next town- kep, which we weren't intending on visiting for the next few days. Beautiful though it was, we realised it would be another two hours back and with the both of us already reddening (crimson) we began to consider hitch hiking.
Keen to explore as much as possible of the beautiful landscape, we changed tack and mounting motorbikes took to the bumpiest dirt tracks that frankly our funky city motorbikes just couldn't handle. Not to mention that R's moto was rather temperamental and took to stalling at the most inconvenient of places. We were occupied for days - red soil, lush green grass, blue skies and palm trees reflected in the vast salt flats, local villages, cloud topped mountain peaks and the sea.
Having oogled the photo's of a luxury resort our manager had visited and blostered by our now extensive driving experience (ahem) we set off down the motorway, economically sharing the bike in search of this hidden gem. The infinity pool and jetty, from which Vietnam could be seen, didn't dissappoint. Kampot really was one of those places that you can't help but linger, as a result there was a real expat community, into which we were welcomed and as such we got to know the local hangouts. Epic cafe- amazing banana chutney and porridge...and snagged our first guardian in months. The rusty keyhole, a recently relocated restaurant situated in the owners home- despite being in the middle of the countryside, thanks to it's hospitality was always full.
Forcing ourselves to move on and with time ticking, we got a tuk tuk to Kep where in the midst of some epic negotiations we bumped into the guesthouse manager and girlfriend who like us were destined for the tranquility of rabbit island. Upon arrival we realised it really was a Robinson Crusoe desert island and after a couple of days of not much other than good food and relaxation we headed back to the mainland and on to Sihanoukville.