|This picture of the ceiling was the only one I took during our two days in Kampot|
For those of you reading this from your office cubicle and wishing you could be traveling, I thought I would include this post about when things don't work out so well on the road.
On Saturday, after visiting Push Pull, we took a taxi down to Kampot on the coast. I had been so excited to visit this little French Colonial town, and had high expectations for what an amazing time we would have, especially after how much fun we had in Phnom Penh. We had booked a bungalow on the river for two nights which looked gorgeous and peaceful from pictures, and I couldn't wait. When we got there, it looked nothing like it did in pictures. There were no bathrooms in the bungalows, so you had to climb down a ladder in the night to get to the one bathroom, and the whole place was shabby and gave off a weird vibe. During our walk through the picturesque town, where we hoped to find a different hotel that was less creepy, there was a torrential downpour and we were soaked after being turned away from hotel after hotel. After stopping by five hotels that were all full, we found a spot for lunch.
BUT that night, this delicious lunch caused Joe to get violently ill, to the point where he could barely move. Not wanting to leave him alone in this condition, I spent the entire day sitting in a chair at the guesthouse, feeling creeped out by the obvious sex tourism and the weird management.
All in all, it was a miserable two days, where we both just wanted to go home. We booked it out of there on Monday morning, as soon as Joe was strong enough to eat again, and were so happy that that part was over.