I don't think you're ready for this jelly

The jelly being this jelly fish that stung me on my right boob. And no, I wasn't ready for that.

So yeah, there we were at the beach, Sihanokville, South Cambodia. It took us about 5 hours to get there from Phnom Penh and was exactly what we expected - a beach, loads of kids selling beads and fruit and stuff, loads of mosquitoes, loads of amputees and not a lot else. It was great for a few days though. Any longer and we would have been bored out of our minds. What am I talking about? We had Star Movies in our room, we would never have been bored.

Other than being glued to the movie channel, we topped up our tans on the golden sands (when I say 'topped up our tans' what I mean was I got so burnt that Duncan described my nose as looking like plastic), had our nails manicured by the local women (I had mine done twice in 2 days - I get to look pretty AND help the local economy), played with the beach kids in the sea and drank Long Island Iced Teas. It was great.



The sea was perhaps the warmest sea I've ever been in. It was like walking in to a tepid bath. So we happily spent ages in there. That was until my chest started throbbing and I looked inside my swimming costume and found said jellyfish nestled there. I've never been stung by a jellyfish before and it really wasn't pleasant. And no, I didn't do what you're meant to do.

The other thing that we spent ages doing was watching all the old, wealthy Western men buy the young, pretty Cambodian women. It was the same in Vietnam, and I'm sure we'll see it in Thailand. It makes me feel a bit sad but, that said, the women seem to be quite happy in rinsing the men for as much as they can. I'm just thankful that I don't have to pretend to be in love with someone for a better life.

And yeah, that was about it with the beach.

Don't mind doing it for the kids

When we initially planned our trip Duncan and I were bursting with ideas of how we were going to heal the world, make it a better place, for you and for me and the entire human race. We were going to work at an orphanage in China, do conservation work in the jungle, help out at the children's safe house in Brazil and teach English to whoever needed teaching. To date we've done a big, fat nothing which makes us both feel super bad. So when we passed a sign asking for volunteers to help out that afternoon with the local street kids - doing art and stuff we jumped at the chance.

This whole place is heaving with children. They wander around all dusty and dirty, trying to sell you snide copies of books and grubby postcards. If you want a book, it's okay to buy them (Duncan and I got a photocopy of the India Lonely Planet - okay, so it's piracy, but it saved us money and gave some people dinner that night) but you're told not to just give them money or treats, as this encourages begging. But it's hard, hard, hard not to.

So the programme is set up to play with the kids, in a field for about an hour and a half. Silly games like tag, singing songs with actions like "this is the way we wash our face", doing puzzles, colouring-in and just generally allowing them to be children for a short time.



I was really nervous. I've never been that great with children, unlike Duncan who has a natural gift, and I nearly turned back a couple of times on the walk there. I'm so glad I didn't.





It was amazing. Amazing. Us and about 40 local kids. Lovely kids. Naughty kids. Kids who were desperate just to play and jump all over us. There was one little girl who Duncan and I loved especially. She sat quietly with the two of us, holding our hands and was just perfect. I loved her. Plus she had amazing hair. I'm thinking if I adopt her, I can just use her hair and not buy any more from the hair shop in Shepherd's Bush. She gets a better life and I get natural hair on tap. Everyone's a winner. (You know) I'm kidding.





After helping out, the kids now recognise us on the streets and just want a ruffle of the hair or to cheekily put ice down our t-shirts. One little boy, another favourite of ours, is about the same age as one of my nephews. He's sweet and funny and loveable and cheeky and everything a little boy of that age should be. He also sells his body to make money. It makes me cry just thinking about it. I wanted to take him home and love him and never let anyone touch him ever again. I've never, ever had a maternal instinct. I have an over-whelming one here.

The Killing Fields

So having known nothing about Cambodia except for the Angelina thing I didn't have the first idea about The Killing fields or anything that had gone on in this country up until the year I was born. But Eve said she wanted to go to the site of the Cambodian genocide and because it meant another ride through the city in a tuk tuk (love it, don't I?) , I was in.

So, there were these guys right who called themselves the Khmer Rouge. They decided, in a kind of Hitler-stylee way, that Cambodia needed to be full of equal, hard working, everyday people - and any sniff of intelligence was seen as a threat to the country. So, they went about detaining and mass murdering anyone who had been educated, anyone who could speak different languages, anyone who was intelligent (at this point in the story Duncan assured me I would have been fine) - they even captured anyone who wore glasses as they thought this was a sign of knowledge (the joke being, if it was a sign of intelligence, they would have just taken their glasses off.)

They detained thousands of people, and children, in hideous conditions. Tortured them. And then murdered them 15k away in a field, often by beating them to death to save money on bullets. So that was the story.

The actual fields were as you'd expect. A grassy area with loads of pits where they'd dump hundreds of bodies, without heads and stuff. And in the middle of the field is a cabinet full of thousands of skulls and shredded clothing. Yes it was grim, but didn't really move me. It's hard to relate to something that is so alien to everything my life has always been.







We then went to S21. The detention centre. An old brick school, where they kept the people and tortured them. For every captive that they murdered they took a mug shot - and pictures of them being tortured. It was hideous. Thousands and thousands of photos. It was sick.











The conditions - brick cells and shackles - were unbelievable (although the women got cells with doors so, although they were being tortured and murdered, they could wash in private - cheers then.) I crumbled. It was really very upsetting.











Needless to say, we got the tuk tuk back in silence and got drunk.

Back to basics

I can tell you one single thing about Cambodia and that's that Angelina Jolie (Pitt) got her son Maddox here. If you'd asked me three days ago what the capital was I couldn't tell you. And if it wasn't for the fact that I'd got to Cambodia on a bus from Vietnam I wouldn't even be able to show you it on the map. (Okay, even though I did get here on a bus from Vietnam I'd probably *still* have difficulties showing you on a map.) So the last few days have been a real education for me.

So yeah - there we were on a small, cramped bus from Ho Chi Minh City to the border. It took about 2 hours to get to the border, and then about 3 hours to get across it. Eve had outstayed her Vietnam visa, which we were told wouldn't be a problem. Sure, it was no problem for the men at the border - they saw it as the perfect opportunity to rip her off, and demanded more dollars "for drinks." (See above - Duncan demonstrating the drinking of a Cambodian beer, much like the ones we assume the border guards purchased with Eve's money.)

From the off, Cambodia feels different. We drove through countryside for miles passing nothing, except a few little houses on stilts and kids lassoing cows in fields. It reminded me straight away of Africa. The rawness. The nothingness. The bare beauty.



Another 3 hours and we were in the capital - Phnom Penh. So yeah, I now know that this is what it's called. I still don't know how it's pronounced. My blood ran cold on arrival. I'd had a quick read of the LP and magpied that there's no taxis in Cambodia. Only motorbikes. So I'd gone a bit mute, bricking the thought of getting on the back of one of the mopeds at night with my massive rucksack. But a barrage of arrow prayers rustled up an amazing luxury tuk tuk which we rode in authentic style through the city to the dark and shady lakeside, the backpacker's choice.

Checked in to a wildly basic guesthouse. No cable TV with Star Movies here guys. In fact, no clean sheets (this is clearly it - I've escaped without scabies for far too long) or shower here - just a bucket of cold water to wash with. I love it. We're taking it back to basics, just like Xtina. Keeping it real, just like Jodie Marsh. That's right.

Miss Saigon

She's back.



Look who we've run in to in Ho Chi Minh. It's Evo!

Sam and Duncan's NYE Spectacular

Anna and Jodie eat your hearts out. Duncan and I have celebrated two NYE's in the last 2 months. Two. Surely that makes us best?

It's Lunar New Year here in Vietnam and boy do they take it seriously. The actual, hard-core celebrating lasts for 3 days but most people have a two week holiday. Or more. There's flowers everywhere and the city is over run with pigs. Foam pigs. China pigs. Paper mache pigs. It's rather like being in Auntie Rita's bathroom.





We flew back to HCM City and after a very wet-eyed farewell to Cat, Bonnie and Ady (guys, I miss you thiiiiiiiiiiis much) it was time to see the "new year" in. But what's this? Cat's left both Sam and Duncan with a stinking cold? That's right. Duncan and I barely managed to tear our sick butts out of bed for the midnight countdown and fireworks. But we did it. However, we were back in bed within the hour with that annoying 'Happy New Year' song by Abba, running around our heads. And a Happy New Year to you too.

Roses ARE red!

Valentines Day.

I have a love for Valentine's Day that rivals the love for my birthday. Thing is, the love for my birthday lasts the entire day (and quite often the entire few days leading up to it, and the entire few days following it also.) My love for Valentine's Day last until about 9.35am - and then that hideous feeling sets in. I never get anything. Well, that's not true. Last year I got a card from my ten year old nephew. Which was amazing. At least *he* loves me. And the year before that I got something from Duncan. Which was also amazing but clearly because he knew that a big fat nothing might actually tip me over the edge and make me do a Britney.

This year I didn't have to worry about no one loving me. I had four people to love me. All day. The five of us spent the day on a romantic boat trip to nearby Cham Island (not so romantic on the way over - I nearly lost my breakfast.) We wandered around the sleepy island town, sunned ourselves, ate freshly caught fish and then snokelled around the stunning, untouched bay. It was actually perfect. Confirmed.







And if the day wasn't romantic enough, it was topped off by a red rose from Bonnie and Ady (they snuck out to the market and bought us each one.) So that's two roses in under two weeks. You guys should come out more often.

(BTW, David - that card wasn't from Sienna Miller. Close though.)

Marble Mountain

There's not a lot of time for anything in Hoi An. After breakfast there's a three course lunch to have, and then a few hours after that - there's dinner. I know. I told you. I love it here. But with the fear that I might not be able to get home without booking an extra seat, we decided that we should get out and do something. So we went here. To Marble Mountain.



It does exactly what it says on the tin (don't you just HATE people that say that?) It was a mountain. Made of marble. But it's pretty cool. It's actually more like Swiss cheese than marble - full of caves that you can crawl all the way up to the top and peek out over the sea, pagodas, temples and tranquil gardens. And in the main cave, the light streams in and hits Buddhist monuments. It took my breath away... until Ady's camera started croaking like a frog everytime he took a picture (Duncan had tweaked the settings), which completely ruined the moment - especially for the dude who was having his daily prayer.



So yeah, a lovely morning was had by all and we still found time to get in some lunch en route (course we did) before heading back in to town for our cookery course. Get this, I can now whip up fresh Vietnamese spring rolls, fish cooked in banana leaves and a squid salad. So in case anyone's interested in how those wife skills are coming along - bring on the husband. That's what I say.

Tailor Made

After a few days in Saigon, you're ready to get out. Don't get me wrong, I love it there, and as it happens we're back now, but with any city it's a bit bustly and fumey and sweaty for those who like to lead a Five Star lifestyle, daaaahling. So we jumped on an internal flight and found ourself in Hoi An, a stunning riverside town somewhere up north.

We all loved it. Straight away. It was untouched and so charming. Little, dusty winding streets. Tatty old boats on the river. More cheap, amazing restaurants than you could point a jostick at. And lovely, lovely people.

So, I didn't know this (quelle surprise), but Hoi An is home to all of those tailor shops that everyone always goes on about. Even the dogs wear tailor-made clothes. A fiver says you know someone who has "had a replica Armani suit made in South East Asia in about an hour that fits like a glove for around two pounds." Well this is probably where they had it done. I hate clothes shopping, I find it completely soul destroying, so when Cat and Bonnie went in to one of the many tailor shops on our street armed with shirts and dresses that they wanted copied my heart sank.

Anyway, peer pressure got the better of me and I decided to give it a go, figuring that all I had to lose was a couple of American Dollars. I pointed out a skirt in Vogue that I liked, with a top in Cosmo and told the lady that I wanted a black fitted dress that looked something like the two combined, but with a full, 50's style skirt. Fully lined. Had to be flattering. And had to cover the knees yet not look frumpy. I was quietly confident that she'd never do it.

I returned the next morning to find the dress that I've been looking for for years. It fits perfectly. And I think it looks pretty good (although - dur - I didn't take a picture of it, so you'll just have to wait.) Decided to have about five made in different colours, then thought better of it. I never wear dresses anyway. I'm not about to start. Not until I can paint all day in my country house and have lots of Golden Retrievers and can be like Auntie Rita.

Cat got an entire wardrobe made, and Bonnie had a few fitted shirts done. Ady had two shirts tailored in about six different shops. Spot the gay man. All of them looked amazing though. And the whole, entire lot came to about the price of one dress in Topshop. Kerching.

Delta Good(rum)

Still happy.

Today rockety rocked. We took a tour (of course we did) up the Mekong Delta river (I think that's what it's called) and it was pretty spesh.

Got picked up at 8am from the hotel (not so good seeing as Duncan and I had hardly slept on our harder than hard mattress - soooo not used to anything other then Five Star these days - plus my colon was in turmoil from the severity of the night before's hot food) and driven to the Delta river. There's something special about this river. It's, like, the largest one in Asia or something and stretches all the way up through Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos and Thailand with people living on it and stuff. It's famous for the floating markets which unfortunately we missed. Because they start at 3am and finish at 7am. I know. What the?



But the tour was great. We were ferried about, drinking coconut milk from coconuts, visiting markets, watching them make coconut candy, trying honey green tea, eating incredible food (Elephant Ear fish), rowing down winding passages in tiny boats, being pulled by horses through villages and holding a MASSIVE python (felt right like Spears, didn't I?) It was ace. And all of it in the sun. It was a totally rotten way to spend the day. Reverse!