Flights are booked

Just finished reading "First they killed my father" for the third time and I can't believe I still have 107 days to wait until we board the plane! Grrr. We are flying Thai Airways via Bangkok, leaving on the 17th February and I am waiting for a professional Dutch photographer called Eric De Vries to send the draft itinerary for what is now going to be a 7-day tour of the country, starting after we return from visiting my foster son and ending with a two night stay in a luxurious (a whopping £53 per night!), spa resort hotel in Phnom Penh before flying home. Soooooo excited, but have to park it right now, as have a halloween fancy dress party to prepare for!

Cambodia former king Norodom Sihanouk dies aged 89

From today's BBC News story;

Norodom Sihanouk, the former Cambodian king who was a key figure through decades of upheaval, has died.

The former king died at a hospital in the Chinese capital, Beijing, after having a heart attack. He had been in poor health for several years.

Sihanouk, who was 89, came to the throne in 1941 and led Cambodia to independence from France in 1953.

Despite long periods of exile and his abdication in 2004 due to ill health, he remained an influential figure.

Sihanouk abdicated in 2004 in favour of his son, King Norodom Sihamoni.

"His death was a great loss to Cambodia," said his assistant and relative Prince Sisowath Thomico. "King Sihanouk did not belong to his family, he belonged to Cambodia and to history."

His body is expected to be returned to Cambodia and go on display for three months in the capital Phnom Penh before an official funeral at the royal palace.

King Sihamoni and Prime Minister Hun Sen have flown to Beijing to accompany the late king home.

A statement from China's foreign ministry hailed Sihanouk as a "great friend of the Chinese people".

Japan's top government spokesman said without him "there could not have been success in the Cambodian peace process".

read the full story here : http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-asia-19943963

Merrily Up the Mekong!

Hurrah it's happening again, the feet are itching and the working traveller is planning another trip!

Destination : Cambodia - There are a number of reasons for this, the first of which came 6 years ago after reading a number of books about the atrocities that occurred there under Pol Pot's regime,  which systematically ordered the murder of 3 million Cambodians. The books  I read were true stories written by survivors, mainly orphaned children, which totally captured me and painted vivid images of the country both before and after the events of the Khmer Rouge and their "killing fields".  So when my fostering period came to an end in Senegal, and I was faced with the agonising task of choosing a new child, Cambodia came immediately to mind. Fostering through Plan International allows me to give something to entire communities at the same time as building a relationship with an individual child, so it seemed the perfect choice.

The second reason for going is that the child I was given back then was a nine year old boy named Arafin, pictured with his sister, who is now reaching an age where he will be working full time and therefore no longer part of the Plan programme. Which means there is a good chance I will be moving on to choose a new child very soon and I want to visit him before this happens.  He lives in a village in the Kampong Cham district which is a couple of hours by boat from the capital, Phnom Penh.

Another fantastic reason is that my camera would absolutely love it out there. The lush jungle, the brightly coloured birds, the Mekong River, the temples and of course the people, make it the ideal place to go on an image-hunting adventure with my new lens.

So that’s the “why” out the way, now for the “when?"...

Cambodia is a country with a monsoon season, during which roads become impassable, camera equipment difficult to use and wildlife harder to spot. So reading through various travel and tourism websites, I have settled on February 2013. Which does not leave me much time to plan – only 130 days in fact!

I started by contacting Plan to understand if a visit to Arafin could be arranged for February. They were delighted and immediately sent me a pack detailing the area, the actions I need to take, the forms I need to fill in and any costs I have to pay to make it happen. The most pressing task is to arrange for a CRB (Criminal Records Bureau) check to be carried out by the Home Office. The check can take anything up to 2 months to complete, and is only valid for 6 months. So I called them up and asked them to send me the relevant application forms which are on their way.

This time I will be travelling with Mum – we have been talking about going somewhere for a while now and since she is also a fellow photographer, we have agreed to do the trip together (there aren’t that many people I know who are willing to get up at stupid o’clock while on holiday just to stand around in mosquito-infested fields and swamps waiting for the perfect shot of a sunrise!).

We have found a trip leaving from Phnom Penh on the 21st February for 10 days which sounds perfect, they have even confirmed that they can arrange for us to arrive a couple of days early to allow us to visit Arafin before we set off. We are currently waiting for final costs and a proposal, as well as confirmation from Plan that the visit can go ahead.

Friday 24th August - The Journey Home

The early start, the long drive to the airport and the thought of all those children we would be missing didn’t provide the best start to the day. But thoughts of home, loved ones and a bank holiday weekend camping with friends soon chased the blues away and after successfully getting through the airport checks and a quick shop for gifts, we cheered ourselves up in the Karibuni lounge at Entebbe with freshly squeezed orange juice, fruit salads and Earl grey tea – what a treat!

Our thoughts were distracted on the way home by watching a few really good films and before we knew it, empty wine bottles filled the seat pockets and once again Caroline and I were giggling our way through the skies. What a cracking end to an incredible trip. (Sadly the charcoal stove didn’t make it in one piece, but with any luck it’s repairable.)

Day 13 – Thursday 23rd August

The post bus which we were booked onto, was expected to arrive before 9am, so we got up with enough time to finish packing, nip across to the school to say goodbye to the children and make a quick computer check with Amon to see if Sylivia had already been sponsored (sadly she is, so I chose another girl called Agnes that I had played netball with before). At just £42 for the entire school year, it was the least I could do as a leaving present and let’s be honest, I can drink that amount in a night at the Bells!

After 9:30 had passed and no bus had appeared, Amon called the driver, who was stuck in the traffic queue behind an accident that was blocking the road. He would be at least another 30mins, so a few of us got another brew and Alex moved chairs out onto the main road to continue waiting. I took one last tour with the camera.
Surprisingly, many of the volunteers had turned out to say goodbye and wave us all off, even Becky, who was also still quite ill, had managed to wander out in her PJs! There were 5 of us leaving (Me and Caroline, the two Irish friends, Ciara and Karen, and Kate the American girl). Amon assured us he had booked seats on the bus, but even so we were all a little apprehensive about the journey. Caroline and I had travelled here on a normal Kibale bus which was bad enough, but the post bus was the cheaper option at just £7 to travel 200kms. It was a large old red bus, owned by the Ugandan postal service, and therefore stopped at every mail depot on the way – there was a good chance it would take 6 or 7 hours to reach Kampala which didn’t fill us with much excitement.
An hour later, the driver told Amon he was in Ntungamo and so we dragged our cases to the other side of the road again, took the obligatory group photo, nearly got stampeded by cattle and said our goodbyes to everyone, before the bus appeared around the corner. Cheers went up as by now the group had been sitting in hot African sun for far too long. Inside I really didn’t feel like cheering. I was still needing to be fairly close to sanitation and 6 hours crammed in a hot sweaty bus didn’t thrill me at all.
But as it turned out there were not enough seats for everyone and so Caroline and I spent the first hour on the staff seats right at the front with the best view on the bus, whilst poor Ciara was standing. After an hour or so and following our second police stop, the postal service worker at the front moved us to some now empty seats further back, next to a guy who was feeling the cold, and so started the battle of the window being open or shut.
The journey passed without incident, but as we arrived at the post office in Kampala, the heavens opened and torrential rain, thunder and lightening filled the skies. Caroline very smugly put on her waterproof, whilst I cursed the fact that I had packed mine in my rucksack which was now outside under the bus. Grrrrr.
No-one was there to meet us, so Karen and Ciara disappeared into the drenched Kampala streets, whilst Kate headed over to the security guard to try and arrange a taxi to her hostel.
Caroline and I dragged our luggage through the rain to the post office internet café and I called the number we had for Godfrey – which turned out to be the number for Denis who was also in Kampala and told us to stay put, assuring us he would send Godfrey the driver over to meet us. Sure enough after 20 minutes or so, Kate was still waiting for her taxi when Godfrey wandered in and took us and our soggy luggage back to the jeep. Traffic was going nowhere and the rain seemed to be getting worse – if that was possible.
Eventually Godfrey decided he could not leave Kate all alone at the post office and despite her hostel being in a completely different direction to our hotel, decided to drop her off first. So over an hour later we were bidding her farewell and good luck as we dropped her off at the “Red Chilli Hostel” in the outskirts of Kampala. Another hour later and Godfrey delivered us safely to the New Madagascar Hotel across town. It was now dark, we hadn’t eaten or used a loo since getting on the bus at breakfast time. We were tired, wet, and starving. So when the German-Swiss owner, Benedict, showed us to our room and offered us red wine with chicken and rice we almost hugged her. A quick hot shower and repack of our clothes and we were sat at a balcony table sipping, eating and congratulating ourselves on a very successful fortnight. Sad to be leaving, but pleased to have made it back to the capital. Only one more night in Africa to go.