Well we got back from our Cambodia / Vietnam adventure yesterday and as is the case with most holidays, the glow wore off about half a day after returning as the memories sunk inexorably into the past. We were jolted back to reality after the child bride went to pick up the cats who had resided at the cat motel for the past two weeks. Almost immediately there was a territorial stand-off between Charlie the dog and Kaos the cat and we woke this morning to a fir ball on a rug (not on the wooden floor of course) and something disgusting in the litter tray.

Oh to still be sitting in the Game On Bar in Saigon watching the NRL or the AFL or the rugby or the EPL of the boxing or the racing or the golf – TV’s showing sport everywhere you looked, local girls in tight shirts serving ice-cold beer and pub-food that doesn’t look back at you. We managed to get there twice in two days.

The first day in Saigon we explored a local market. Imagine the Baywatch girls, in beach uniform, attending a maximum security prison. That was the rather aggressive, noisy and touchy/feely attention a westerner generates in that place. It is rather intimidating but we managed to get out with the required shirts and dresses albeit with the wallet a little lighter and the bargaining voice a little hoarser than the parallel experience in Cambodia. Not to worry because it was only a 10 minute walk to Game On which was only a two minute walk from the tallest building in the country which had a viewing platform and……a bar.

Met up with our four Victorian mates in Game On and drifted from beer to beer for the rest of the day including dinner at a restaurant where a local entrepreneur (who was a boat person and made his money in Oz) ran a restaurant training street kids (chefs, front-of-house, waiters etc). The food was nothing like rat, very nice in fact and like the art school in Siem Reap, an admirable enterprise.

Day two in Saigon and we had to check out at twelve, and had our hotel transfers arranged at four. How to kill a few hours on a hot steamy afternoon? Here’s an idea, thought some genius. Let’s take a 10 minute, $3 cab ride to Game On. Done. And so the gentle transition back into Australian culture began.

Visiting developing Asia is a great and rewarding experience as long as you can experience most of it standing up rather than sitting down, if you get my drift.

Well it’s only one more day on the boat then off to Saigon tomorrow. And not a day too soon for some, I think. The last couple of days have been absolute carnage with this place now resembling the aftermath of the Alamo. This is not in any way, shape or form a criticism of the cruise company. They have been scrupulous in their adherence to safety and health standards.

The karaoke excesses of a couple of nights ago plus the accumulated impact of different foods and breathing different air, especially in the open markets, have taken their toll I think. I was a mess yesterday but am fine now. But I reckon if it was possible to harness the power generated by the simultaneous sphincter clench of 78 people, you could drive this boat from Saigon to Brisbane without refuelling.

The markets in the Mekong delta have to be seen to be believed. People shop twice a day because apart from a few random blocks of ice and the fact that most of the seafood and assorted reptiles and amphibians are still alive, everything is out in the open. However to spare the sensibilities of the more fragile brethren, the rats are skinned before being put on display.

Last night was concert night when the various ship departments put on a show for the guests. Watching a bunch of Vietnamese and Cambodians pretending to be The Village People and doing everyone’s favourite, YMCA, had to be seen to be believed although I’m not sure they all comprehended the significance of the arm movements.

And after that finished some of the guests who had “volunteered” the night before, had to get up and perform. Apparently I volunteered but I’m pretty sure I was volunteered. Had I been forewarned or at least been vaguely aware of what was coming, I could have prepared Not Garfunkel’s full repertoire. But my still alcohol fogged brain was only capable of a rendition of Hotel California on the only guitar on the ship. A Londoner got up and told a few jokes and as he warmed up, they got better and better if you know what I mean.

We are now wending our way to the last stop before leaving La Marguerite. I think it’s to see another bloody temple. Actually I can now see a massive bridge that I and a lot of other Australian taxpayers built about 10 years ago. I recognise it from last time we were here so we must be getting close to the end. The internet connection has been getting progressively better so it stands to reason.

Maybe one more travel blog to impose on you before we leave. We’ll see.

We are now at the Cambodia/Vietnam border and it’s day something or other into our caravanserai  adventure as we watch the world slip by in air conditioned comfort. Thank you barman, you may indeed freshen up my drink and as the story goes, I have this medical condition which requires this glass to be replenished every half hour, on the half hour.

Yesterday, our second day in Phnom Pen was a great day, it has to be said. After trying to imagine what it must have been like (impossible) during the Khmer Rouge times the child bride and I decided to have the afternoon in. We were all pagoda’d out anyway. Then some of our party mates suggested a trip to a bar down town. No worries said I. Five of us piled into a tuc tuc and off we went. We found a place overlooking the river where happy hour went from 7.00am to 11.00pm, I kid you not. Icy draft beer for $0.75. We spent the afternoon there and the bill for five was less than $30.00. I am moving to this country and buying a Lexus.

Needless to say, last night (two nights ago, now) was either a write-off or a triumph, depending on how you look at it. We’ve pretty much commandeered the music situation so instead of middle of the road we now have Rolling Stones and Guns ‘N Roses and the place is jumping. It’s karaoke night tonight so that will be interesting.

It’s the morning after karaoke night and it’s been a struggle. My attention span could not extend to the intricacies of a spinning loom operated by a 12 year old girl I’m afraid. And vague memories of Wish You Were Here are swirling round my brain and bouncing off the insides of my skull. Fortunately we’re cruising this afternoon because I don’t think I need to learn any more rural Vietnamese life skills.

I decided to finish this story in the library. It’s the only public place on the ship where you can’t be tempted by alcoholic extravagance and it’s as far away from a bar as it’s possible to be.

Just spent a very confronting morning at one of the killing fields outside Phnom Pen then the Genocide Museum which is in what was a school and was used by the Khmer Rouge as a torture venue. From reading some of the so-called confessions and listening to the guides relate stories of the time you wonder whether the Khmer Rouge ever questioned how the CIA managed to employ hundreds of thousands of agents including whole families. Being good Buddhists the locals eventually forgave the bad guys whereas most of us would have been sorely tempted to exact some form of retribution, with extreme prejudice.

You’d think Cambodia would be the most anti-communist place on earth after experiencing the most perverted version of an already perverted political philosophy but there can’t be too many places with both a North Korean Embassy (next door to the Prime Minister’s house as it happens) and a Cuban Embassy as well as a street called Mao Tse Tung Boulevard. I took a picture of the North Korean embassy but we weren’t allowed to take pictures of the US embassy. I guess if you’re North Korean this is probably one of the safer places in the world to be what with The Donald’s finger hovering over The Button. That reminds me, North Korea is the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea and under Pol Pot this place was called Democratic Kampuchea. The similarity is that no one gets to or got to vote.

Time to lighten the mood. If I asked you to name the place with the largest proportion of Lexus’s (or is that Lexii) on the road in relation to the other vehicles, you might suggest Nagoya, where Toyotas are made or Geneva (no, that’s Ferraris with Arab rego plates) or Manhattan. I guarantee you wouldn’t guess Cambodia but that is in fact the case. They are everywhere. It’s like some weird parallel universe. And I still haven’t received a satisfactory explanation as to why. It’s fated to be one of those unanswerable questions like why does a women stroke her chin when she drives or why does “change up” mean “slow down” or why can’t some people see the absolute logic of all of my arguments?

Actually “Mekong” is a bit of a misnomer. We have been on the Tonle Sap River for the past 3 days and don’t reach the Mekong until this afternoon in Phnom Penh. The Tonle Sap River is highly unusual because in the dry season the Mekong pushes water north along the Tonle Sap and in the wet season there’s enough water flowing into the Tonle Sap Lake in the north to push the water south down the river. So it’s one way part of the year and the other for the rest. Wouldn’t be out of place in Hollywood.

There are 172 floating villages round the lake. Everyone lives in a relocatable home and all are connected to the same sewerage system. Needless to say of the hundreds of fish species in the lake, the most prevalent is the brown trout. Fish and rice provide most of the sustenance but like an old mate of mine from Japan, they’ll eat anything with its back to the sun, tigers and elephants excluded. Tarantula sandwich anyone?

On a more serious note, Cambodia has an awful lot of catch-up to play after the atrocities committed by the Khmer Rouge. There were about 10,000 doctors here pre-1975. By 1979 when Pol Pot and his mob were finished there were seven. SEVEN! Now families have eight or nine kids as repopulation continues apace. There are some inherent human skills that can never be eradicated even by the most determined scumbags.

This trip is quite unlike what you would imagine a river cruise to be if you’re thinking of Amsterdam to Budapest or the Loire Valley. It’s all very rural and life experience stuff. Yesterday we went for a ride in an ox cart which really loosened up the joints. I suggested to the farmer in charge of our transportation that he consider installing eight sided wheels as they’d be much more comfortable than his six sided versions.

But it’s not all killing fields and Old Macdonald’s farm. Back on the boat there’s a party group as you would expect. Yesterday was my birthday (thanks for all the good wishes) and we found a guitar so raucously worked through all of the songs I could remember. It’s amazing how good Wish You Were Here sounds with a bucket of Southern Comfort in the bag.

Off for a tuc tuc tour of the city soon. A tuc tuc is like a carriage for two or four people towed behind a vehicle with what sounds like a ride-on mower engine. Should be interesting. We’ll be stopping at some markets where the child bride will put her considerable bargaining skills to good use. So I’ll have to stop at an ATM.