Making friends with Law Enforcement

Most foreigners in South Korea will tell you they feel very safe in this country; free to walk alone late at night or to carry around expensive cameras and other technological devices without worrying about them getting stolen. Two months ago, I was one of those foreigners; comfortable in my complacency.

On my second weekend back from South Africa, I went to visit Helyn, who was leaving South Korea for good. She wanted to eat a traditional Korean meal, the same we'd had when we first arrived in the country. We went to the grand Lotte Department Store, which has an inhouse food court, and ordered bibimbap, a rice dish with vegetables and spicy paste. In the time that we sat down to eat and halfway through the meal, I reached for my handbag to get my cellular device. My handbag was no longer hanging on the back of my chair. 

At first, I just laughed at Helyn and said, "Okay okay, where is it?" She hadn't a clue what I was talking about. My handbag was gone. And it had everything in it; my bank cards, foreigner ID card (without it, you can do nothing in this country), cellphone, camera, perfume and a substantial amount of money. I actually felt my heart fall to the floor. One just does not expect these things to happen here.

We were the only foreigners in the whole food court. I found the first restaurant worker I could and, while weeping, tried to explain my predicament in broken Korean. She eventually called security but by that time, whoever had taken my bag, was long gone. Sadly, the security personnel were not much help; there was no CCTV in the eating area and it is incredibly difficult when you cannot properly communicate.

Fortunately, there was one young lady who could speak a little English. She took 2 hours to cancel my bank accounts after me phoning every human being in Helyn's phonebook to obtain details of account numbers, my ID number and bank phone numbers. All the while, I wept. Helyn didn't know what to do but she remained so calm throughout, which was a great help. And it was her second-last day in Korea. I felt so bad for her.

But it all changed when the police arrived at the shopping mall. It became a rather comical situation and Helyn and I cheered up considerably. First, the police wanted to see where the incident had taken place. Thus, the four security personnel, two policemen, Helyn and I traipsed back to the food court, where I demonstrated what had happened with wild gestures. One of the policeman then asked me, "Did you see anything suspicious?" I said that both Helyn and I had noticed a strange-looking man lingering around but had thought nothing of it. " What did this man look like?" he said. "Um, he was Korean, he had short, black hair. He was an average height and was wearing a dark suit with a black coat." Oh, like every other man in Korea? Yes, basically.

Following this ridiculous discussion, we were whisked away to a police car. Now the day was getting very exciting as we drove on the pavements of the train station to get back onto the main road. I phoned my co-teacher, who was no more helpful than he usually was, and cried again. What seemed like an insurmoutable task lay before me; replacing bank cards, ID card and my cellphone would be a mammoth task with no help from him and not being able to express what I needed. But the policemen were very nice and kept asking questions all the 45 minute drive to the police station. And they even put on the siren for a few seconds.

We walked into a relatively empty station. In five minutes, it was full of officers, having a look at the foreign girls. I had to write my version of events on a piece of paper. I'm still not sure if the information has been entered into the system. But apparently, Korea doesn't do case numbers. I have no proof of reporting the crime or that anything was done about it (not that there was much they could do). 

Our day improved substantially, however, when we found an almost full bottle of Imperial 12-year-old whisky on the table in front of us. Another man was reporting the theft of his expensive watch. He'd obviously come straight from the party though, as he was wild-eyed, smartly dressed and smelt of smoke. We asked him why he had a bottle of whisky at the police station. He couldn't answer us but offered us the bottle of whisky as a gift (a plea for forgiveness on behalf of the man who had stolen my bag). Obviously, we declined but the friendly policeman insisted we take it as it is rude to turn down the offer of a gift.

We returned to Gyeongsan with a picture of me and the policemen, a huge bottle of whisky and one handbag less. But make no mistake, we had a stiff drink on the return to Helyn's flat and a good laugh at the events of a very interesting, if horrendous, day in Korea. Not many people can say they have driven in a Korean police car, sirens blazing. 

Goodbye to the best

There is a distinct difference between travelling in foreign country and actually residing there. A vacation is a short sojourn away from your 'normal' life; a chance to experience new things, sample all the best food, see the sites, relax on a beach. And then you head home, back to a routine, your job (hopefully) and your family and friends.

When you pack your bags and move to another country, especially one that is completely different to where you come from, you leave all that behind. And you hope to make wonderful friends, because they become your family, when you are thousands of miles from home. You cry and laugh, drink too much, eat far too much, go on weekends away, explore the country...together.

When living in a country like South Korea, where it is hard to find many, if any, similarities with your home country, you create your own language of Korean/English slang (Konglish), you recreate Easter and Christmas to immense proportions, you get excited about a bottle of crappy apple cider in the supermarket or a schnitzel at a restaurant...together. 

For those of us fortunate enough to get to live in foreign countries in Africa, Asia or South America, where there is an abundance of different cultures, languages and opportunities; it is an experience we cannot easily explain to those at home. And so it is our friends, who are with us and who we see all the time, who we share it all with; the 'homesickness', the frustration, the cultural differences, the fun. 

When you travel, you meet people from all over the world. If you are teaching English in Asia, you make friends with other teachers and students; Scots, English, Irish, Australians, Kiwis, Americans, Canadians, Russians, Iranians, South Africans, Nigerians, French. But for most of us, the time comes to leave wherever we are and return home. That's the hardest part about travel; saying goodbye to your friends, your overseas family.

The world may be a small place but it is also extremely big. And sadly, you never know if you'll see some of your new family again. Fortunately, happy memories are easily remembered.

To all the wonderful friends I have made during my travels, I miss you!!

Body and mind well-traveled

The 19th century English cleric and writer, Charles Caleb Colton, said that "those who visit foreign nations but associate only with their own country-men, change their climate but not their customs. They see new meridians but the same men, and with heads as empty as their pockets, return home with traveled bodies and untraveled minds". 

I read this quote on a friend's Facebook status a few days ago and it really got me thinking about my year in South Korea; how much of an effort I've made to integrate myself into society, if I have embraced the culture and how I have dealt with the challenges. I've come to the realisation that it has been a pretty 'fantastical' year of gesture and grunt perfection, falling in love with rice, mountain bonding, Korean tennis education, accepting of societal limits and frustrations, living in the last minute, and making friends from several countries and cultures.

Alongside my tennis team members, the children and students, my Korean contemporaries and especially the teachers at my main school; I have experienced a different culture, I have learnt more about respect and loyalty, I have explored Korean cuisine, I have lived.

Yesterday was a particularly poignant mountain moment. I was given a lift to school by the head teacher. Each teacher has a few days in the winter vacation when they have to come to school, so that there is always someone present in case of accident or incident. We spent the morning working on our respective projects. Just before lunch, some of the other teachers started arriving. What? Why? This was a grand surprise. Because it was a nice, sunny day and a break from the real winter weather, the head teacher had phoned some of the other teachers and urged them to drive to the mountains for a spot of tennis.

I think anyone would rather play tennis than sit at a desk staring at a computer. Hence, the jumps of joy that ensued. After a lunch of kimchi stew and rice wine, we were sufficiently satisfied and ready for an afternoon of outside activity.

During one of the many sets we played, a ball was hit over into the cornfield alongside our makeshift "clay" court. As my partner, the math teacher, went to fetch it, I stopped and closed my eyes for a minute. Dead silence. That was all. Not a bird or a cow, a car or a human voice; just five non-English speaking Korean men and me on a tennis court in the mountains of Sang-ok.

I don't stop often enough to think about how lucky I am. But at that moment, I looked back at my experience in the Korean peninsula and I thought that I shall, indeed, return to my home country body AND mind well-travelled.

Teachers, Tunnels and Tongyeong

“I just need to check with you if you’d like to go on a cultural trip on November 3 and 4? EPIK is organising the trip to Geoje Island for English teachers. You would miss two days of school,” said the co-teacher a month ago to the native English teacher (NET), application for the cultural trip in hand.

“Miss two days of school? That’s just terrible,” said the NET, “But, a cultural trip with other English teachers to ‘the second most beautiful island in Korea’? How can I say no?”

Organised by the Gyeongsangbukdo Office of Education for EPIK teachers “to experience and learn about Gyeongsangnam-do’s areas of historical interest”, the two-day trip was a welcome treat and a wonderful experience; if not for cultural reasons, certainly for seeing a beautiful region of Korea. We did not learn much about Korean culture, that's for sure.

Geoje Island is the second largest island in Korea as well as the “second most beautiful”, according to various sources, after the famous Jeju-do (recently voted one of the New 7 Wonders of the World). Situated at the centre of the southern coast of Gyeongnam province, it is very popular among tourists for its coastline, cliffs and mountains. Although Geoje is an island, it is connected to the mainland by train and buses. On Thursday, November 3, five buses, teeming with noisy NETs, left Daegu to find out what Geoje had to offer.

  

First stop was the recently-completed Geoga Bridge, which connects Gadeokdo Island in Busan with Jangmok-myeon in Geoje. According to english.busan.go.kr, the 8.2 kilometre bridge/tunnel project reduces the distance between Busan and Geoje from 140 to 60 kilometres and the travel time from two hours to just 40 minutes. According to several Koreans visiting the museum at the rest stop (before crossing Geoga Bridge), people are incredibly proud of the bridge-undersea tunnel link, the first of its kind in Korea and a great display of the country’s construction and engineering technology. It certainly makes travel circumstances from the mainland to the island much quicker and more convenient. In addition, driving through an undersea tunnel is quite an experience, no matter where you are in the world.

After a very generous buffet lunch at a restaurant in Geoje, the convoy continued its journey on the Tongyeong coastal road. The second stop for the day was at a site near Nambu-myeon, aptly named “Windy Hill” because there is an ever-present sea breeze. “Windy Hill” boasts an impressive windmill perched on a picturesque cliff, from which one has an extraordinary view of the fishing village below as well as the smaller, surrounding islands. It is apparently a famous site for the filming of movies and Korean TV programmes. It is certainly one of the prettiest places in Korea and a must-see for any tourist visiting Geoje. Thousands of photos were taken by the EPIK teachers, some with windmills in the background, others of the black goats roaming around and several of the beautiful sea views. Many people simply commented on how fresh and clean the air was in comparison with the places they lived.

A quick stop at a nearby pebble beach was next on the itinerary. Most NETs were interested to find out why the pebble beach is such a popular tourist attraction in Korea. In countries like England or America, where there are both pebble and sand beaches, the sand beaches are infinitely more popular. Apparently, these pebbles were imported specially. It is an attraction because it is so unique in a country of sandy beaches. All beach-goers were informed numerous times not to pick up or steal any pebbles, for there would be a heavy fine to pay.

As day one came to end, EPIK teachers were driven to their resting place for the night at the Tongyeong Bay Condo Resort, a well-located hotel overlooking the water. Most rooms had a glorious view of the bay and the balcony was hardly a bad place to watch the sun set. The rooms were spacious and very comfortable. We were treated to another fantastic buffet meal for dinner and a cold beverage to end a great day. It was a great opportunity for the teachers to meet their contemporaries from other cities and areas.

After a delicious breakfast on the morning of day two, the five EPIK buses departed for the port where everyone was to catch the ferry to Oedo, Korea’s first privately-owned island and home to approximately three thousand square metres of botanical gardens. For some, sea sickness took its toll on the ferry ride to the island but for most, the hour spent on Oedo was by far the best part of the EPIK trip. Beautifully landscaped with over seven hundred species of plants and Greco-Roman statues, the island seems to be designed to make one feel like one is in the Mediterranean. And looking at the photographs from that tour, one might believe that this is, in fact, true. There are excellent views of the surrounding coastline and the ‘greenness’ of the whole place is quite incredible. Although hardly a Korean cultural experience, Oedo is beautiful.

The idea for the botanical gardens was conceived by a Lee Chang-ho and his wife after they settled on the island in the 1960s. After unsuccessful attempts and tangerine and swine farming, they decided to transform the island into marine western-style botanical gardens. Sadly, each tour group may only spend a short time on the island. Otherwise, it would be a wonderful place to spend the day, take a picnic and soak up the abundance of nature, which one does not often find in Korea. Fortunately for the ill, the ferry ride back to Geoje seemed so much quicker than the ride there. After yet another visit to the lunch buffet, all concerned were ready for both a diet and the long trip back to Daegu.

Throughout the two-day trip, it was evident to see that the marine tourism city of Geoje is alive with traditional history as well as having a ‘buzzing’ city life, due to thriving tourism and shipbuilding industries. And a destination not to be missed on anyone’s ‘Visit Korea’ itinerary.

“How was your trip to Geoje?” the co-teacher asked the following Monday morning.

“What a wonderful break, thank you. We saw some really beautiful sites in Korea. I’ll have to return to Geoje one day because there is so much to see. I am very happy I decided to go. EPIK really spoilt us!” said the NET, refreshed and smiling, “And how was school?”

“School was school,” said the co-teacher. 

우연히 행복해지다

"Suddenly, I am happy." This was exactly my thought as I left a little theatre in Daegu city on Sunday afternoon. It is also the English translation of the title of this blog and the name of the concert musical which made me 'oh so' joyful.

A few weeks ago, I got a surprise phone call from a Korean English teacher from one of the other branch schools in the area. She invited me to watch a Korean musical in her home town. It turned out to be one of the best afternoons I have had in Korea. Below, please find part of the letter I sent to the theatre company:

"To members of the cast and production team of "Suddenly, I'm Happy!"

I am a native English teacher from South Africa. I have been in South Korea for only a few months. I felt surprised and rather honoured to be invited by a friend to watch your play last Sunday in Daegu. I had no idea what to expect and was rather concerned that I would not understand the story as I know so little of the Korean language. My friend gave me a summary of the story, with the characters' names and the basic plot, so I would be able to follow more easily.

Even without the summary, I would have been able to follow the story line because the acting, singing, movement and comedy were of such high quality. Every audience member was enthralled from the very beginning to the very end. I have watched many musicals in South Africa, England (West End) and South Korea. Never have I seen such energy and charisma throughout a performance. I smiled and laughed the whole way through and was simply blown away by the brilliance of it all. I would like to pass on my congratulations to all the actors, organisers and production team for putting on an incredible show. It just shows that language is not the only way to connect and communicate with people.

I was equally impressed with the attitude of the actors after the show; they shook hands with every audience member and there was an opportunity to take photos with the cast after the performance. All this extra effort added to the wonderful experience. As a foreigner in South Korea, I would like to thank you for a wonderful afternoon of theatre and entertainment."

It is amazing how a few hours can change your attitude and perk you up for the week ahead. I was just so impressed. Everything in life happens for a reason; if only to make one take a step back, take a look and oneself and realise that life is actually a wonderful thing, if we remember to enjoy it!

Saigon: the acoustic version

Our arrival in Ho Chi Minh city, Vietnam, marked the end of a 16-hour bus journey from Siem Reap, Cambodia. Dirt and tar roads interlaced; potholes; broken, fogged-up windows; sweat; dodgy food stops and a two-hour wait at the border (it only opens at 7am). We did sleep remarkably well in the cramped space, however, which promised good things for our first day in Vietnam's biggest city.

Hopping off the bus, in desperate need of a shower and nourishment, we were approached by several bed and breakfast owners looking for possible customers. (We hadn't booked accommodation for Ho Chi Minh city after being assured there were hundreds of backpackers in the near vicinity to District 1, where the action was.) We followed a man who promised a wonderful deal of a double air-conditioned room for a mere US$5. It didn't look so wonderful when we actually arrived, and we apologised to the man and went on our way. Right across the street, however, we found Thien Hong; a family-run guest house. Although more expensive, there was hot water, clean sheets, sweet coffee in the mornings and smiling faces. We left our shoes at the door, literally, and never looked back.

To get from the main street to Thien Hong was an experience each and every time; a hair-raising walk through the alleys of people's homes, half-naked men and women, daily washing hung from one wall to the other, meat-cutting (make-shift butcheries run from the tiny apartments), chicken heads, screaming children, hooting scooters, litter and rather alarming 'aromas'. But this was Ho Chi Minh central - District 1; backpackers and travel agents on every corner, and restaurants and bars everywhere in between. And I was in my element.

After the much-needed cleansing process, we set out to find food, beer and excitement. We were drawn to an establishment called Allez-Boo; set on a street corner, built entirely from bamboo and filled with people. Couldn't go wrong there, we thought. We ordered 333 beer (strongly recommended by my head teacher in Korea), fish cakes with lemon grass, caramelised beef with rice and fruit smoothies for pudding.

Unfortunately, this happened to be our first tourist mistake in Vietnam. Unlike for Cambodia, when I had checked the exchange rate before leaving Korea, I hadn't done so for the Vietnamese dong. It turned out that Allez-Boo was one of the few really expensive restaurants in the city. Thus, we left with full stomachs and very empty pockets.

Our exploration of the city centre was interrupted by the afternoon rain, which was far too strong for the umbrellas we'd borrowed from the guest house. We abandoned the umbrellas in a nearby coffee shop and ran through the streets, past thousands of scooters, vendors selling their wares of postcards and other totally useless bits and bobs. On the way back to the guest house, we booked tickets for a water puppet show and a cruise along the Saigon river. Built on the banks of the river, Ho Chi Minh city was originally named Saigon, when it was the capital of the French colony, Cochin-China. and later of the independent state of South Vietnam. It was officially renamed Ho Chi Minh city after the contradictory but widely respected leader of North Vietnam. (Vietnam has been a unified country since 1975.) Our guide from the travel agency explained to our minibus that "old people in Vietnam call it Saigon and the young people call it Ho Chi Minh. Anything is fine, we just love it!"

The travel agency was none other than "Friends Tourist". And friendly they were, transporting us by taxi to and from the show and cruise ship because it was raining. The show was impressive as the puppeteers operate the puppets from underneath the water, acting out stories of traditional Korean life; complete with dragons, boats, live music and singing. The river cruise involved seven courses of food, red wine, traditional musical entertainment and views of the lights and life on the river bank from the water. It was truly an evening to remember.

After a undisturbed sleep at Thien Hong, we headed off early in the morning for our day trip to the Mekong Delta. This was to be the highlight of our time in the south of Vietnam. The delta, as a region, lies to the west of Ho Chi Minh city. It is known as Vietnam's "rice basket" because it produces enough rice each year to feed the whole country and then some. Lonely Planet describes the Mekong Delta as "a watery landscape of green fields and sleepy villages, everywhere crisscrossed by the brown canals and rivulets fed by the mighty Mekong river" (www.lonelyplanet.com). And the river is indeed mighty, it has two daily tides.


Although the region is rural, it is one of the most densely populated areas in Vietnam and every single piece of available land is farmed. The locals are said to friendly and easygoing, according to the guide books, but we saw differently. Only some of the "islands" are tourist-friendly, the inhabitants of others have asked instead to be left alone to live in peace. Our tour group hopped off the main boat and, in groups of four, were steered by locals in canoes along some of rivulets to a small island. We wore conical hats and took wonderful photos. Unfortunately, half way, the afternoon rains erupted. By the time we arrived at the island, we were sopping wet but still in high spirits. The thin raincoats acquired on shore were a little too late.


At a little restaurant gazebo, we were entertained with traditional singing and served honey tea and fruits of the island; pineapple and chilli salt, papaya, dragonfruit and some strange berries which tasted like overripe (almost fermenting) grapes. We sat at a table with four Scots, who were on a trip around South-east Asia, after a stint in Australia. We listened to their tales of Thailand and Laos with envious ears.

Out came the boa constrictor and a hive of bees for people to take photos with. We stayed far away. I even had a shot of banana wine, which tastes like pure ethanol, to calm the nerves. Lunch consisted of island-bred chicken, rice and boiled vegetables. We had the unfortunate opportunity of sitting with the most ignorant person on earth. She was from Israel and did the whole, "But how can you be from Africa if you have white skin?" thing. I cringed, gripped the table, and said, "colonialism". Frighteningly, she had been working at an orphanage in Cambodia for a month. I'd hate to know what she taught the poor children about. The 333 beer got us through that meal.

After lunch, we went for a walk to the where the coconut candy is produced. We watched the process, which is done by hand and duly contributed to the economy of the island. On the way to the bathroom, we bumped into a water buffalo sitting in the foliage.

The trip home in wet clothes was hardly pleasant but after a shower, several glasses of Vietnam's Dalat red wine and delicious supper at "Happy Life" restaurant, we met up with Scots and some wild men from Ireland for an evening of dancing to Justin Bieber's "Baby", Miriam Makeba's "Pata Pata", "Piano Man", Nollywood rap songs and several "Waka wakas" at the Lien Coffee Bar. The said bar was transformed into a dance floor crowded with South African, Nigerian, Scottish, Irish, Greek, Italian and Chilean twenty-somethings. Our one and only party in Vietnam proved to be a magical end to our Saigon experience. The next morning, it proved to be the end of my relationship with that drink made from potatoes, vodka.

After a thrilling two and a half days in Saigon, I left Thien Hong guest house with a huge hungover smile on my face, a sweet cup of coffee in my hand and lacking three pairs of shoes (which I'd left at the door).

Angkor: The Holy City

Words cannot do justice to the beauty of Angkor, which literally translates to 'Holy City' or 'Capital City'. The temples of Angkor provide a journey back in time; to an ancient world of kings, empires, regal architecture and life constructed around the religion and beliefs of the day.

The town of Siem Reap serves as the gateway to the ruins of the ancient Khmer Empire, which thrived between the ninth and twelfth centuries AD. 'Khmer' refers to the "dominant ethnic group in modern and ancient Cambodia" (The Siem Reap Angkor Visitors Guide, 2011). In the area of Siem Reap, one will find temple ruins; the remnants of the ancient 'Angkorian' capitals. These ruins represent the height of Khmer architecture, art and civilisation; when the area had a population of more than a million, when the Khmer kings ordered the building of grandiose temples and advanced water systems and Angkor was dominant over Cambodia and large areas of Thailand, Vietnam and Laos in military, economy and culture (The Siem Reap Angkor Visitors Guide, 2011).

The Angkor Archaeological Park had been designated a World Heritage Site by UNESCO, and the best-known ruins of Bayon, Ta Prohm and Angkor Wat put it on par with the great wonders of the world. The area of Siem Reap has been hosting foreign visitors to the ruins for over a hundred years. And the Khmer people, descendants of those who lived in the ancient capitals, welcome visitors with open arms.

If you fly to Siem Reap, like we did, you will arrive at the most quaint of airports; a beautifully designed one-story building with terracotta roof tiles and surrounded by palm trees. One automatically feels the effects of a relaxed environment. Tuc-tucs (the popular mode of transport in Siem Reap) await to 'chug' you into town along the airport road; a parade of make-shift, red plastic chair restaurants, chickens, 5-star Angkor hotels and Coca Cola umbrellas. (Isn't it amazing that Coca Cola seems to have reached every place in the world?)

We booked our first night's accommodation at The Palm Garden Lodge, a very cheap bed and breakfast near the town centre. Our tuc-tuc driver took us along the town's main road, which was relatively tarred and wide, but we soon turned off onto dirt roads with giant potholes, street cafes boasting meals of chicken heads, hair dressers, scooters and smiling pedestrians. Palm Garden was near the end of a narrow road and we were greeted by Adan, the manager of the accommodation. We were pleasantly surprised by the hospitality and cleanliness of the place. With no time to waste, after a quick shower, we headed to town by Palm Garden tuc-tuc to explore the Night Market and find a bit of light supper. Siem Reap's Night Market is a coming together of class, colour, vibrance and excitement. In between the stalls of hand-sewn handbags, headbands, landscape paintings and beautiful dresses, one finds fish pedicures with "complimentary beers" and gorgeous gazebo bars. Island Bar's beef and lemongrass stew and fresh spring rolls did the trick. Once we'd eaten and flattened a couple Anchor beers, we were ready for a good sleep before our 4:30am departure to witness sunrise at Angkor Wat.

If you manage to make sunrise or sunset at Angkor Wat (most visits to the temples are centered around this temple), you won't be disappointed. We managed to make it in time for sunrise. We watched from the northern reflecting pool in front of the massive three-tiered pyramid. As the visitors' guide (2011) says, "the visual impact of Angkor Wat, particularly on one's first visit, is awesome...like a giant postcard photo against the sky". The sun rises behind the temple so that all one can see is a silhouette of its towers against the early morning light.

The temples of Angkor deserve weeks of exploration. They "vary in importance, interest and condition and are spread over a large area, often kilometres apart" (The Siem Reap Angkor Visitors Guide, 2011). For even the most uninterested visitor, each ruin offers something completely different. But if you only have a limited period of time, like we did, it is recommended that you make sure to see the South Gate of Angkor Thom, the last capital of the Angkorian empire; Central Angkor Thom (Bayon, Terrace of the Elephants, Terrace of the Leper King); Ta Prohm, a huge monastic complex; and Angkor Wat, constructed in dedication to the Hindu god, Vishnu.

We traveled to Siem Reap at the end of July, which means it's the hot/rain reason. And there is no escaping the humidity. Fortunately, refreshments, notably cold beers, are available from vendors throughout the Park, along with books, postcards and food. The temples are really too far to walk (even though the mad few do 'hike' it anyway), and so we made use of a tuc-tuc for the day, which was a wonderful way to travel through the temple complex. Our weary feet were given a rest in between temples but we could still feel the fresh air and experience the scenery properly.

On our return to Siem Reap town proper, we found a fantastic local restaurant with plastic table cloths and lime green, roughly-painted walls. We ordered delicious prawn and coconut curry with basmati rice and banana pancakes for dessert. Our bill for three came to the grand total of $10 including drinks; a steal.

Siem Reap offers a little something for every kind of person. It is a place still getting used to the influx of foreign visitors; which means the locals are polite and excited to meet you (even if only to make a quick dollar), they appreciate it if you make an effort to learn a couple Khmer words, like 'hello' and 'thank you' and they are proud of how far they have come. One can't be sure how long it will stay this way. But for now, Cambodia is certainly the destination in south-east Asia, a destination you won't regret ticking off on your bucket list. Siem Reap certainly stole the heart of my traveling group. Two days: far too short. This place needs time...I long to return one day.

*A one month tourist visa for Cambodia can be obtained on arrival at the international airports in Siem Reap and Phnom Penh for US$20.