Malaysia #1

When last we met with our intrepid traveller, she was awake at an ungodly hour of the morning, slaving over an homage to Asian cuisine. On the cusp of striding boldly over the Thai-Malaysia border, she knew little of what lay in front of her, but felt excited at the prospect of wringing out after the soggy town of Krabi, and in need of a fresh environment after too much lazing about and crappy Western-friendly Asian food in south Thailand. She had realised that while a portion of island living was fun, she was no Tom Hanks, and would need more stimulation than a soccer ball and white sand to keep her sane…

The Dutchman-with-the-Mexican-meal-name and I left Krabi, Kev and Yass (and her broken foot) on a drizzly morning, and took a minivan all the way to Trang (and sunshine!). The town was darling, with a large dollop of Chinese influence, and a 1970s industrial town sort of feel to it. The little men who ran stores were charming, their wives were no-nonsense (I felt obligated to buy a pair of shoes that didn’t even fit me properly- the small woman had so much anger in her eyes! She made me do it!). The girls wore cute school pinafores and had matching bob haircuts. There was no doubt we were the only tourists in town at the time. I loved the bean cakes, pork buns, wandering at the night markets, and our dim sum feast just before leaving town the next morning.

A bus to Satun, a taxi to the pier, a slight hitch involving the realisation that both Taco and I had overstayed our welcome in Thailand and some subsequent fee-paying (to very apologetic Thai border officials), and on to the ferry to Pulau Langkawi. A new stamp in the passport: triple-check allowed length-of-stay this time, and we were in Malaysia.

From the outset, Langkawi was a bit non-eventful. We were there for the last couple of days of Ramadan, so a lot of locals had left to return to their hometowns (or were just staying inside conserving their energy since they weren’t eating very much). The beaches were nice, but not that nice. The food was OK. A motorbike trip around the island revealed some interesting road kill (giant lizard, monkey…), a giant statue of an eagle, and lots of trees. Oh! And I did learn how to play backgammon.

It was not with heavy hearts that we boarded the ferry to Penang. Not heavy hearts, no, just a lot of children who I think consumed more than enough sugar at end-of-Ramadan celebrations. We arrived in Georgetown at night, but I felt as though the yellow lights of the port we pulled into were saying to me: “Claire. Welcome. Come on into Georgetown. I have pretty buildings and clean, wide streets and the sense of coolness that you have been searching for…” We hauled heavy bags to Love Lane, and were beckoned into The Secret Garden guesthouse by a bunch of people sitting out the front eating satay. And how can you say no to people with satay, really? The foyer was more like a really classy living room, with French-feeling décor, high ceilings and classy tunes on a sweet stereo system. We were taken out that night by one of the locals to Little India, which was well and truly alive and kicking. It was sensory overload squeezing through the streets: bright yellow trishaws with pinwheels and tinsel, loud Indian pop blaring out from shops, big strong wafts of curry and incense, and men slapping rounds of roti dough on sizzling slabs of cast iron. There was a lot of ooh-ing and ah-ing on my part, I may have danced gleefully at some stage, I’m not going to lie. Masala dosei + Kingfisher beer= very happy tumtum and the best welcome to a town thus far.

Just next to Little India sits Chinatown. I really swooned over the grotty, whitewashed buildings with signs from the 70s painted on them, crammed with their chosen wares (stationary, random electrical goods, shrines and streamers…) Oh and the food!...
• Char kuay teow thrown together in a wok with perfect amounts of oil/garlic/chili/soy;
• Little satay skewers fanned lovingly by dudes with their caps on backwards;
• Wontons in soup made from rice papers so fresh they were almost dissolvable;
• Cendol: shaved ice in a little bowl with pandan-leaf glutinous little wormy things glowing bright green in coconut milk and palm sugar syrup;
• Freshly deep-fried banana balls…
A grazing approach was employed: eat consistently, try everything.

What else did Panang provide?
…A few glimpses of monkeys at the (world’s smallest) national park.
…Lots of cheap beer and Yahzee playing fields at a (?slightly not entirely legal) little booze shop around the corner
…A big, bright, beautiful Buddhist temple- Kek Lok Si
…Nice chats and dice-rolling with Teo the Scotsman
…A place I felt I could hang out in for a longer period of time
…One more day than intended due to missing a 5am bus: curse you Casio watch! You may look cool but where are your obtrusive and insistent alarm abilities when we need them?!

Stay tuned for installment 2: Escape from Penang.

Five am food musings

I am once again struck by the insomnia that has accompanied me throughout my travels so far. Friends from home will attest to my usual Sleep-Anywhere-and-Sleep-Deep mode- I can occasionally be the Death Of The Party, making myself comfortable on other peoples' couches when tiredness sets in- but it has been rare for me to sleep the whole night through since being away from home. Perhaps the Asian way of life is rubbing off on me (get up at 5am, cook 6987kg of rice for whole family, ready whole family for day, work for 12 hours- with lots of naps during the day of course, come home, cook another 6987kg of rice, eat, clean, sleep, repeat...)... perhaps not.

But instead of bemoaning the fact that I am awake to see the night turn to day (look at that! I glanced up at there was light outside the window!), I have decide to harness the power of the insomnia, and reflect on one of my favourite portions (no pun intended here) of my sojourning (and let's face it, life in general) thus far- The Eating. Whilst my memories of being away- the list of Impressive Things I Have Done In Other Countries, the intensity of the imagery in the myriad places visited- will no doubt fade, I am safe in the knowledge that the smells up my nostrils, the tastes in my mouth, and the emotional elements of some of the eating experiences I have had, will endure.

Home or away, I am generally quite excitable when it comes to mealtimes. I love a grumbly tummy satisfied by a tasty morsel, which serves not only to ensure survival (yay life), but also to make people close their eyes, lick their lips, hold their hand to their chest and go "oh my GOD that is good." Tim- cousin/housemate/friend/excellent cook- is one person capable of bringing about such responses. Some people are innately good at doing amazing things with food. The McEvoy Clan are one such group of people. And while my cooking abilities definitely do not rate nearly as highly, I am bloody good at enjoying food, and enjoying times with people who enjoy enjoying food. The stream of goodbye catch-ups prior to leaving Adelaide were essentially food-based, and friends- I don´t want you to feel like I was using you as an excuse to wrap my tastebuds around the best drinkies and eaties our fair city has to offer in my final days, but essentially... I was.

Asian cuisine has always been Numero Uno for me. I like the strong hit of quickly-frying garlic in a wok up my nose (... perhaps not the best layout of words there- I now have an image of me with a giant Asian metal cooking implement up my snoz), the sinus-clearing power of a baby chilli, the cleansing feel of eating giraffe-friendly portions of Asian greens. So I've been like a pig in poo being able to sample Asian delights every day! I have no qualms stating that I am quite happy to travel to a place simply to sample their food specialties: "Pfft! Mountains? Seas? Monkeys? Give me your curry and be gone, for I shall know all I need to know of this place!"

So, on the verge of leaving Thailand (but not before a stop-off in Trang to get on the Dim Sum and BBQ pork bandwagon of the little Chinese-infused town) what has this country given me (or more specifically, my tum-tum)...?
+ Curries. and excellent ones. Green, red, yellow, mussaman, panang. Cha-ching!
+ Noodles. I have had some excellent Pad Thais, but my best noodle dish so far was probably the kway-teow-like dish I got from a lovely lady who has a little street-vendor stall up the road here in Ao Nang: big, fat, fresh rice noodles, sizzled in a work with greens, cashews, lots of chilli and lime.
+ Fish. Last night we had a freshly-caught, whole red snapper grilled on the BBQ doused in a delicious Thai-sauce (perhaps tamarind-based?). I made the fish's mouth open and close to say "eat me." And then I did. (And joy-of-joys, we found sticky rice again to eat with it!)
+ Soups. Tom Yam, Tom Kai Gai: the many, delicious faces of Tom. Flavoured to the hilt with big slices of galangal, whole kaffir lime leaves, chopped chillies and chunks of lemongrass.

And, reflecting on the last few months, what are some of the other standout eating moments...?
+ Fresh French pastries in a classy paper bag at the Vientiane airport with Shak, just before saying goodbye.
+ The cooking class in Luang Prabang- probably the best meal I've had since being away, and I managed to have a hand (albeit it a small, and fairly directly-guided one) in making it! Fried rice salad, The Best Spring Rolls, Sticky Rice With Mango (another potential future life partner for me), sweet and sour fish, coconut chicken parcels steamed in banana leaves.
+ Delicious Italian feast before leaving Koh Tao the other night- I know I know, not particularly Asian, but I have no shame in eating the wrong type of cuisine if it's going to taste that good- I hadn't had pizza in a loooong time.
+ Fillet of fish on a stick from the Vientiane night markets.
+ The best fish amok in Mondulkiri, Cambodia.
+ Eating at Bananas! in Mondulkiri with Niamh- essentially just sitting at the dining table of a crazy Dutch lady eating Flemish stew, home-made pate, hand-cut chips and huge bowls of soup, while she told us stories generally involving her dislike for the French. We went back again.
+ Amazing club sandwich and fries at Riverside in Phnom Penh with Niamh on a night where some western fare was being craved heavily.
+ Mango with Sticky Rice, saved for me on a night when I wasn't home for dinner in Phnom Penh by the gorgeous cooks.
+ Huge pieces of barramundi and wine from big glasses out to dinner with Emily B, her Ma, and lots of the volunteer crew and the famed FCC in Phnom Penh.
+ Noodle soup throughout Laos. The best I think was in Vientiane, eaten by myself, with my novel and my diary, the steaming bowl accompanied by a plate of heaped greens, herbs, chillies, and a little pot of satay.
+ The Baked Goods with Lis and Jess on Don Det...

The list goes on, as do the lovely memories, and these will no doubt be added to as I jump into Malaysia in a couple of days time, supremely excited, especially about Penang and the delicacies it has to offer, and ESPECIALLY on the recommendation of one of the finest foodies I know, Michelle (http://michellesutopia.blogspot.com).

Happy eating!

Island hopping

This first day of Spring (Australianly-speaking- it's still just bloody hot here) finds me in an internet cafe (the term 'cafe' is used liberally here- there is never any caffeine involved, only crappy fans and disinterested store-owners) on Koh Tao, Thailand.

Since last update, I have:

- Had a wicked week-point-five with Shak in the North of Laos- the crazy, tourist-infested Vang Vieng; the lovely, colonial, upmarket Luang Prabang. Waterfalls, bikes, temples, kayaks. A beautiful bus ride filled with amazing mountain views. A horrible night bus ride filled with Laos karaoke blaring at ridiculous volumes and no leg room.
- Said goodbye to Laos and its noodle soupy goodness and Beer Lao; and hello to Thailand and its Pad Thais (some amazing, some not) and Chang.
- Become a little browner (although this is McEvoy skin we're talking about, so really a sort of patchy pinky-grey is probably a more apt description). I know it's not veru lady-like but DAMN it feels good to peel skin off a burning tummy.
- Taken a couple of night trains: quaint, cosy, quick; MUCH better than bus trips!
- Learnt a couple of new travelling games and some Dutch phrases in the company of my current companions, the Holland Homies: Yasmen, Taco and Kevin.
- Attended the Full Moon Party on Koh Phangan. Once was good, but once was enough.
- SHNORKELLED! And seen some very pretty fish and very pretty coral.
- Been slack at writing in my diary.
- Missed home. Talked with some people to remedy this to some degree.
- Started to think about the whole Actually Going To London Rather Than Spending The Rest Of My Days Traipsing Around Asia thing. Still a little apprehensive on this front, but looking forward to seeing old and new friends, being cold (for the first 5 minutes at least), singing and dancing again in come capacity other than on a dance floor in Asia scaring the locals, and saying "lit-rally" a lot.
- Felt a little bit lost at times.
- Appreciated life.

A nice end-of-the-day ritual has been playing "Grapes and Gripes", introduced to me at Physio staff meetings in Whyalla on my final year placement. Your grape is the best thing that happened to you during the day, your gripe is the worst. It doesn't have to be the big obvious things. It's a nice way to reflect. Give it a go!

Love Claire xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox (now all hugged and kissed out)

Laos by numbers

One is the number of...

* Dollars paid for a big 750mL bottle of Beer Lao. This beer is quite excellent, to be honest with you, readers: a thirst-quenching beverage to wash down a sunset over the Mekong, the perfect accompaniment to a spicy Laos lap, a surefire way to make the most of a pack of cards late at night.

* Bottles of aforementioned Beer Lao I am consuming each day minimum. In the heat it goes down all too easy. Tonight I am definitely not having one (my liver thanks me, my heart does not.)

* Minutes in between giant smiles from the Laos locals maximum. Especially in the countryside, the pearly whites of these gorgeous humans (actually not so pearly really, thanks to the thickness of Laos coffee and poor dental hygeine) are flashed frequently, and always up my Happy Factor.

Two is the number of...

* Hashes I have now done. My first was in Phnom Penh. Last night I took part in the weekly Monday Night Hash in Vientiane. Hashing is a worldwide phenomenon that I cannot believe was unknown to me for so long. It's sort of like orienteering, only slightly less organised and much more beer-ified. See this link for a bit more info on what exactly Hashing is:
http://www.gthhh.com/HashBible.aspx?gk
Basically there's a lot of running/walking/skipping/meandering, a lot of yelling "ON ON!", a lot of naughty names and odd rituals, and a lot of beer drinking. I am definitely planning on finding more as I traverse Asia/The World, and would encourage anyone to give it a bash. It's a great way to get to know a place as well, as a traveller- I've seen parts of the cities I wouldn't have come across otherwise, and met some great ex-pats and locals, all of whom are wonderfully termed "drinkers with a running problem". I like it.

* Minor falls I have had from a motorbike (scooter really, but I sound a bit more hardcore if I say motorbike, don't I?). The Bolaven Plateau tour was one of the best experiences I have had since being away. This said, the rainy season meant that a couple of spots were a bit muddier than usual, and the motorbike decided twice to get on top of me slightly.

* Legs injured in the falls noted above. The first was quite an impressive engine burn on my right leg- it's funny how it takes a few seconds before the old brain goes "aaaaand now there must be a hole in my pants, because there's quite a lot of pain on my leg...". The second was not so bad, but probably looked just as stupid to my travelling companions and the onlooking locals, as I slowly slipped off to the left side of the bike, travelling through yet another muddy patch at approximately 0.5km/hr. Just a bit of a bleed on the left leg this time. I'm nothing if not symmetrical, ladies and gents.

Three is the number of...

* Days spent riding on the Bolaven Plateau. Some beautiful waterfalls, the occasional lashing of rain, fresh country-air and smoky fire smells, blue skies against greeset rice-paddy fields, and spectacular evenings as the sun was setting.

* Dudes I was lucky enough to call my travelling companions for the trip. Justin from Canada, Taco from The Netherlands, and Pete from Germany. Top-notch fellows. By our powers combined, we were named B3: Beer Lao, Bikes and Bullshit (card game that was played at every chance possible).

* Meals in Laos each day involving noodles and/or sticky rice. The rice is like some sort of amazing hybrid of rice and Play Dough, wonderful for those of us who like getting hands on with food, served up in woven baskets. Noodle soup is a firm-favourite for breakfast or lunch, and is served with lush green herbs, fresh long green beans, lime and chilli.

Four is the number of...

* Thousand islands down south in the Mekong. Well, this is the name given to Si Phan Don, anyway, and I spent around 4 luxurious days on the darling little island of Don Det. Here I rode bikes, met the absolutely gorgeous Lis from The Netherlands (ever-smiling, excitable, a strong woman destined for good things) and Jess from WA (a red-headed beauty who warmed my heart with her optimism, enthusiasm and wonderful outlook on life and travels, and made me pine for The Awesome Claire Stanley- these two could be related).

Five is the number of...

* Points my BGL goes up with my first sip of Laos coffee each day. It is very black, very strong, very sweet thanks to a lot of sugar PLUS condensed milk. By the way, Mum, Condensed Milk and I are officially engaged. I know you said not to meet anyone overseas who might delay my return home by too long, but what can I do? It's true love. We're destined to be together: me, a lone traveller; Condensed Milk: sweetness in a can, willing to follow me around the world (and conveniently-sized for my luggage). I'll ask how Condensed Milk feels about Australia... I can't go another day without it, that's for sure, though...

* Weeks I am thinking of extending my South East Asia stint by. This could change in a heartbeat, but although The Clash may tell me that London is calling, I would say to them "hang on, Clash; London can wait just a bit longer, I think, really." Perhaps I will see Malaysia? Indonesia? Time/funds/friends/my disorganised brain will tell...

Lots of love, Claire the Counter.

Food, Fashion and Fast Cars (well actually, relatively slow motorbikes)

Part 2: The Fashion

Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the inaugural Phnom Penh Fashion Week. You thought it wasn't going to happen. But I'm here to tell you it is happening like the most Hip-Hop-and-Happening thing in Happeningville.

Let's have a look at what we have strutting along the catwalk today...


Pyjamas
None of this fancy-pants, Peter Alexander-esque lace-and-silk-business in various shades of beige and coffee, ladies and gentlemen. I'm talking 100% cotton, I'm talking primary colours, I'm talking elephants and puppy dogs, I'm talking poorly-translated English phrases. And Cambodia, do we wear out nightwear at night? HECK NO we don't! The number one choice for all stylish Cambodian ladies this summer (ie. pretty much all year) is matching pyjama sets, paired with a lovely sandal. And why wouldn't this be all the rage, ladies and gentlemen? It manage to tick all the required boxes: it's conservative (no unsightly cleavage or midriff), it's cool, its coordinated.


Face masks
How can one be hip and healthy at the same time? That's the question I seem to get asked the most. I'm here to give you the answer. The Phnom Penh-ians have got it down pat. Why suffer the formidable fumes of a city overrun with motos and pollution-pumping factories when you can block it out with a fashionable face mask? In hospital grade blue or pink, or fashionable Burberry patterning, this accessory is bound to keep you looking mysterious on the outside, and clean-lung-ed on the inside.


The Traveller

Ah yes, ladies and gentlemen. It's our highlight at the end of this evening's show- the traveller; in varying shades of manky, cringe, and thriftiness. Featuring prominently in this collection is a look that has been a staple for many seasons now: supremely floppy pants and skirts that, whilst seeming not only practical but also stunningly beautiful when bought at local markets for $5 ("Wow, I can wear this with x, y and z when I get home! They'll be so great!"), upon return home are suddenly seen under the harsh light of Western fashion, causing the buyers to recoil in "What the HELL was I thinking?!" horror.

The 3-for-$5 t-shirts are also doing very well this year amongst travellers. Some of the favourite slogans doing the round at the moment include:

- Same Same But Different (the catch-cry of the stall-holders at the market.)

- Angkor Beer

- Tin Tin in Cambodge

- I♥ Cambodia (don't we all? And yes we DO need to express it all over our breast.)

In addition to exploring the fruits of the Cambodian made-for-foreigners fashion industry, well-seasoned Westerners are incredibly forward-thinking and innovative when it comes to their clothing combinations. "Why yes, this IS the thirty-second time I've worn this shirt, but just look at the way I pair it with these shorts, tuck it in, and put a scarf around my middle! It's as if it's an entirely different item of clothing, no?"

And let's not forget our fragrance lines, ladies and gentlemen. This evening's models, a collection of well-meaning Westerners from various corners of the globe, are wearing Eau de Toilet (not to be confused with Eau De Toilette, this one truly lives up to its name), Cam-BO-dia-deodorant and the new CK one-shirt-six-days.


Signing off, Claire McEvoy, runway-side.

Papa's death

Papa died last week. I knew when Mum started talking to me, and it hit like a big fat punch in the guts. It still amazes me how visceral grief is in the acute phase.
It's been a strange few days. The news came during a time when homesickness was tapping me fairly gently but fairly annoyingly on the shoulder.
At times I can completely switch off. There are some really special people who are helping me feel pretty good. And the fact that Phnom Penh is the almost-polar opposite of Adelaide in a lot of ways has probably assisted in being able to be here and only here at times.
But when the thoughts of what's happening back home wriggle their way into my Cambodia-fied brain, they remind me that home ties aren't easily broken. And it hurts quite a bit.
In some morbid way, not being there for the funeral tomorrow is sort of like missing out on the party that all the kids will be talking about at school the next day because you piked out and went home early. But coming back home just didn't feel right. And I can't quite explain that entirely.
I am overwhelmed by the astounding web of information- and thought-sharing that the O'Callaghan Family has exhibited over not just the past few days, but the past few weeks. I am reminded of the strangely beautiful feeling I had around Nanna's death. That sense of solidarity in shared sadness, a figurative constant hand-squeeze.
And it's what Papa deserves, because he was a pretty amazing man. Sometimes we argued (well, mainly I argued, he was often just pot-stirring), but he was so good. And so interested in everything and everyone.
It's difficult to find the write words to get these feeling out, and I don't think I've done it particularly well; but I asked Damo to put a cardboard cut-out of me in his pocket at the funeral, and I just want the family to know that I'll be holding you in my thoughts and heart all day tomorrow....

Love Claire

Food, Fashion and Fast Cars (well actually, relatively slow motorbikes)

Part 1: The Food

Many of us volunteers had been warned by The Bible (Lonely Planet Guide) that Cambodian food was nothing to write home about. WELL JUST LOOK AT ME WRITING HOME ABOUT IT, LONELY PLANET! Supposedly Cambodian food is not as exciting or distinct as its Thai and Vietnamese next-door neighbours, but I am rejecting that notion. As a well brought up McEvoy Gal, I am experiencing this new and exciting country with not only open eyes and an open mind, but also a very open mouth. At the apartments, we are lucky enough to have some beautiful ladies who cook our lunches and dinners each day. As with a lot of Asian countries, rice is on the menu for most meals. It is accompanied by things such as stir fried vegetables and sliced meats, fish stews and curries. It is milder in flavour than other Asian cuisines, flavoured with lots of onion, lime, garlic and some chilli.

Street vendors pop up around every 7 metres, on average. The little push along carts have little glass compartments housing noodles, veggies, (occasionally dubious looking) meats, and a noodle soup or fried something-or-other can be thrown together for you in a flash. There are often tables and chairs set up on street corners to allow complete the outdoor-dining experience. Other carts sell the sugar cane drink that the locals sip from little plastic bags, which is made by churning the sticks of wooden-looking cane through a little mill until a lemonade-looking drink is squirted out for the thirsty punters.

Most volunteers come back home for lunch each day, but I stay at work. This has been a highlight of each day for me. The cook packs me a little polystyrene container each day, and I pop the surprise package in my bag. At lunch, all the lights in the physio gym get turned off, the little white coats that everyone wears are removed to allow the sweat on them to dry, and all the physios gather around one of the desks and bring out their home-packed goodies. Sharing is a big part of the Cambodian culture, so everyone's fare is placed in the middle ready to be scooped, slurped and picked at (Claire goes "Yes! These are my type of people!"). I've been keeping up pretty well with the delightful head physio Sarun, who everyone teases about being the one who finishes off all the leftovers at lunch! Sometimes the cooks at home prepare Western food as well, and I was pretty popular at work the other day when my container revealed fried bits of steak and chips with tomato sauce!

The break is an hour and a half for the Physio and P&O (Prosthetics and Orthotics) staff at VI, and after eating, the general thing is the guys sit around and watch the epic, long-running Khmer-dubbed Korean soapy set quite a few centuries ago concerning royals and soldiers (but not too different from Home and Away, basically), and the girls go into the blissfully air-conditioned meeting room, and put mats on the table (yep, not something you'd see back home too much in the boardrooms!) or floor and have a bit of a kip (or just a gossip). I have wholeheartedly embraced this Cambodian form of siesta, and feel much better for it in the afternoons at work!

Some of the new and exciting things to fill my tummy include:
- Bitter gourd- some form of zucchini, stuffed with minced meat, in a liquid
- Khmer "cheese"- actually no dairy, it's just that it stinks; it's made from dried fish mixed with... other... stuff...? and is a brown pastey substance- very strong, very salty, but I liked it!
- Preserved eggs: boil your water with stacks of salt, let it cool, chuck your eggs in and let 'em sit for the desired number of weeks. Cambodians are good at not letting surplus food go to waste, so eggs and fish are often preserved like this. Good for the girl with low blood pressure to up the old salt content!
- The most amazing array of fresh fruits! The bananas are lady-finger sized but delicious; ruby-red rambutans; lychees (think I could live on these); perfect mango, pineapple and watermelon. The fruit is so fresh and flavoursome, bursts from tiny market stalls in big bunches and is cheap as, bro.
- Little snail things that come from the river bed- they're tiny, you pull them out of the shells and it looks more like you've just picked your nose, you dip them in chilli sauce. One was fine, but one was enough for now.
- The delicious iced coffee they do here (Ma, it'd meet your Farmer's Union standards, I reckon)- condensed milk, a whole lot of ice, coffee poured over the top: de-bloomin-licious. I went down to one of the vendors out the front of VI yesterday with Kim and Sinoun, gorgeous P&O's, and Kim ordered it for me, so I'll have to make sure I get the right name for it to grab another sometimes; it set me back about 30 cents.

We've been out for dinner a couple of times, too, there are lots of places down along riverside that offer a mix of Khmer and Western cuisines, and it was kind of exciting to get a burger with my beer the other night! You can get a good quality meal and a drink for around $3-4. The beer that's widely-drunk here is Angkor, but there is a wide selection available, and they're a pretty good deal at around $1-a-pop on average. Lats night we had went to The Casino and felt pretty extravagant in the ritzy bar, paying $4 for a beer. A couple of the Irish lads here tried some home-made rice wine, thrust upon them by their tuk-tuk driver the other day. They likened it to nail-polish remover, and I think I might be OK not giving it a go.

In short: Claire McEvoy- loving life, loving the grub, loving the ales, loving the fun times that come from a shared meal!