On first arriving in Phnom Penh, we made the mistake of following a fellow backpacker to a hostel she recommended. The hostel was great, built out on stilts over a lake, but it was right in the heart of the backpacker area, though ghetto would be a more appropriate word. Every town on 'the trail' has a backpacker-favoured area, but they are usually have at least some of the local colour, or at least roads out. Not this one. Every single restaurant served marmite and PG tips, and there was only one road in. If the Cambodian government ever needed to round up foreigners, they wouldn't find it too difficult. The hotel also had the little problem of rats in the walls who kept trying to get in. We left pretty soon after we discovered that!

One of the coolest things about the city is seeing the monks in their lurid orange robes, wandering about basically doing normal things, but looking so incongruous. You expect them to be sitting and obtaining higher states of being, not zooming around on mopeds and taking photos of each other at tourist sights. Celia was disgusted at one point - "That top is way too low cut for her to be talking to a monk". Neither the tourist in question, or the monk for that matter, seemed to mind...

Phnom Penh is a lively city, where the people are great. The whole of city life appears to take place on the back of a moped, and it is amazing how many people you can fit on one (4 was our highest count, but we're convinced there are 5 or 6s out there). An amazing introduction to Asian life, we even had our first (slightly scary) streetfood here, when we first passed through - escaping with our wallets and GI tracts intact.