I know I've touched on this earlier in the blog, but in 1975, when North Vietnam won the war, and when Pol Pot took over Cambodia, I was twelve years old. My 12 year old self never imagined going to places like Hanoi or Phnom Penh.
Our last morning in Ho Chi Minh City was free time, so I spent a bunch of time catching up on writing the blog. Meanwhile, Carol joined six others in the group for massage. It's the kind of massage where the masseuse even walks on you, which is a little freaky to me, but then again, I wasn't there.
After lunch, we headed to the airport to fly to Phnom Penh. Between waiting for the flight, the flight itself, immigration, and then taking the bus to the hotel, it was dark when we got into Phnom Penh.
It was time for our third and final cyclo tour, and our first one at night. Phnom Penh is no where near as lively as Hanoi or Saigon at night, but it was still a neat ride. Nearly all the shops were closed by the time we were pedaled past.
Early on, my cyclo was caught between some motorcycles, some scooters, and an SUV. The SUV driver was oblivious to the presence of my cyclo, and, as he got within a half inch of hitting me, I was about to bang my fist against his car to alert him. But I was also worried how he would react.
We were on his right and he was looking left. Suddenly he spotted me out of the corner of his eye and jammed on the brakes. In a trip with many close calls (but no actual accidents), that was the closest -- at least of the ones I noticed.
We made a stop at the statue to the woman who founded the city, Lady Penh, and then walked across to a big gold stupa behind a fence. I don't remember the name of the temple, but, since it's the year of the rabbit, there's a big rabbit statue. The statue changes every year based on what animal it is for that year.
In the "What Tacky Thing Did Glen Ask?" Department, I asked our guide if the birth rate in Cambodia goes up during the year of the rabbit. It earned a glare from the Editor in Chief to whom I am usually happily married, and chuckles from others in the group. Since the LTG (Laugh To Glare) ratio was around five to one, I counted that as a win. Carol did not share my perspective.
There was also a stop at the monument to Cambodian independence. Built in 1958 to honor the country's independence from France in 1953. It's a very cool lotus-shaped stupa, combining the religious and the secular. Shortly after that we walked over to the nearby Norodom Sihanouk monument, built in 2013 to the man who was born the same year Cambodia gained its independence.
He was duped by a false telegram into returning to Cambodia in 1975 and placed under house arrest by Pol Pot and Khmer Rouge. He has served as King since 2004, when his controversial father died.
The cyclo tour ended at the restaurant where we were to have dinner, Kabbas. Another "Bun hole in the wall" special, the food and service were fantastic. It gets a strong 4.5 in 977 reviews on Trip Advisor, and we thoroughly enjoyed it. The restaurant doesn't sell alcohol, so we popped down the street to a c-store to buy beers. Even that's a cool thing to do.
My recall is that I had the chicken cashew nut stir fry, but it may be the place where I had my first frog. I will say, the frog tasted fine, but there was more bones than meat. And sucking the meat of the bones sounds almost romantic, and it is, for the first five pieces. But after that it just got tedious. Frog is a one and done for me -- again, not because I didn't like the taste, but because it was too much work.
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