Leakhena opens Cheers Cafe

After weeks of toiling, long hours, no sleep, no food and levels of stress that would kill most people, Leakhena finally opened the Café/Bar/Guesthouse that she has been made General Manager of. We had endured badly spelt COCK TALL menus offering GIGARETS and SOCTHC WISKEY, computer troubles that I discovered as I loaded all my music from my MP3 player for them and general screw ups of all types. Probably the biggest thing that upset me was that when Leakhena handed me her business card with GENERAL MANAGER on it, I had to point out that they had mispelt her name as LEAKNENA. She was so tired she hadn’t even noticed! All that aside, the location is good, overlooking Hun Sen Park, and the big trees outside and lush lawns of the park across the road provide a very pleasant outlook. The project has been funded by a gentleman whose prime business is setting up children’s shelters but he has his hands in many pots and is extremely well connected. There are several huge rooms upstairs which lend themselves to executive style short team leasing and eventually, hopefully, it will be a fully operational guesthouse as well as bar and café downstairs. Staff have followed Leakhena from Phnom Penh Internet Café where she worked previously and Touche’s chef boyfriend Cheewan has come over from the Pickled Parrot and this is great because apart from the fact he is an amazing chef , it means they get to work together !

So back to opening night…… At about 4pm the skies over Phnom Penh went Armageddon black and a rainstorm of epic proportions hit the city and lashed it for 3 hours. I was worried this was going to ruin the event as it is impossible to do anything in Phnom Penh when it rains like this but luckily it stopped and cleared almost on the allotted kick off time of 6pm and I am sure there was a collective sigh of relief. I arrived faithfully at 5.30pm and there were already a few customers eagerly awaiting the free beer and food and the young staff were all dressed nicely and watching the television on the wall but…..alas….no Leakhena!! So I jump onto the mobile phone and have the following conversation;

J; “Er……..Sweetheart, where are you? It is almost start time and you have people here and the staff are watching television and no-one is greeting arrivals …”

L; “I am at the salon having my hair done, can you come here please?”

I assume I will arrive, she will be ready and I will take her straight back to the café. On arrival she is not even close to ready, not even dressed and I am now fairly upset with her because she has worked so hard and now she is GM and is late to her own gig!!

J; “Sweetheart, why aren’t you ready! You must be there to greet people! It is your place! Hurry up! “

L; “I was so busy today I not get time to get ready!”

J: “Ok well you get ready and I will go and greet people and organise the staff ok?”

L;” Sweetheart my sister hasn’t come yet and I have no money for the hair can you help me?”

I have arrived with no cash and no bank card so now I have to ride across town to my apartment in light rain knowing that people are arriving to a bunch of staff who are watching television and I later find out they are all from the children’s NGO so have no formal work training . Christ almighty. So I dash to my apartment and get my cash and discover my digital camera’s lens has seized up for some strange reason. Now I cannot take photos and this puts me in a fouler mood. The Flatmate comes out of the shower and has only just arrived back from a 36 hour bender down at the lakeside and announces she won’t make it but this is no dramas because she is good style so I forgive her immediately. Back on the bike, back to the beauty Salon, cash delivered ($15 for full hair, nails, makeup etc!) and back to the café that is now filling fast. Touche has arrived but cannot keep up so I ask her if she wants me to man the free draft beer tap and she says YES PLEASE. So now for once I am on the other side of the bar and I automatically know what I must do. I start pouring two glasses at a time and also pouring jugs of beer. I have the beers flying across the bar at an industrial rate and no-one has to wait for their orders. I have a bevy of helpers and I mobilize them immediately;

“You- go around and pick up empty beer glasses”

“You-stand at the sink and wash all glasses and do not leave your post”

“You-take jugs around and top up beer glasses and then bring back to washer”

“You-work with Touche and fetch her any mixers she needs for cocktails etc”

So I am now a barman for the night and I have to say….. I LOVED IT! I chat with everyone sitting at the bar and wipe it down all night and empty ash trays and watch drinkers at the bar to ensure they have one coming as they approach the bottom of their glass and tap kegs when they empty and generally have an absolute ball. My experience from University bar work days and also watching Alan at the Green Vespa so many times do his job so well equip me for the role and I take pride in doing the best job I can do knowing I am helping out. I am unable to drink much so I remain sharp as a tack and everyone is commenting on my prowess and army like ability to mobilize the team and I am also DJ and keep the tunes flowing all night. Everyone asks if I am the owner but I point out Norn (the Director) and then proudly point out that “My fiancée, Leakhena, is General Manager “. Leakhena has arrived sporting the most insane beehive hairdo and earlier in the day we went out and bought her a beautiful black silk dress so all in all the effect is simply stunning. I have never seen my girl totally done out like this and I am agog all night. As much as I try to steal a kiss on many an occasion, Khmer protocol forbids this kind of thing in front of so many people and I am rebuffed constantly. Damn she looks good! Her sisters and mother all look amazing as well and all the men in the room are envious of my harem. “Jesus man….great genes!” is the constant catch cry of the night. Leakhena works the crowd in her inimitable fashion and I am glad I was able to do the bar for her because the thought of her doing it in her outfit horrifies me. She was out where she belonged on the night. The food is laid out on the pool table (much to my horror) and everyone tucks in and the feedback on the fare is great.

Many of my work colleagues, their wives ,Phnom Penh friends and fellow bar owners have come to support the night and it is a great mix of Khmer and westerners all having a laugh and a free drink. By the end of the night I am absolutely shattered. My socks are saturated with beer and water and I have been standing in front of a hot beer refrigeration unit so I am sticky from sweat and grime. I feel like I have been hit by a truck and as the last of the customers leave the staff can all finally relax and have a drink and a game of pool together. Norn is by now sitting at the bar thanking me profusely for my help and I am embarrassed and tell him please to not thank me. %75 of the night’s profits have gone back to the Kid’s Shelter and I am so happy to have been a part of it all. It is now he drops an absolute bombshell on me. “Justin, you have done such a good I am so thankful I want to take Leakhena and you and some others out for dinner and KARAOKE!! “. Oh my sweet lord Jesus. Please. No. Not KARAOKE! It is 2a.m. I am dying for a shower and my bed and yet I am too polite to say no so off we head into the night for some food and dreadfully loud music. My feet are squelching in my boots and my body is screaming at me to stop and it is 4a.m when I arrive back to my apartment. I have my first hot shower since arriving 3 months ago and I am asleep even before I get into bed.

What a night! CHEERS EVERYBODY!

It's all a blur !

Last night I had the strangest, most vivid dream. I dreamt I was living backing Sydney, Australia (which makes it more of a nightmare) and I was living in a terrace in Paddington. For some strange reason unbeknownst to me, the British band Blur came to stay with me, including several roadies and all equipment. Now I should make it clear here that I do not like Britpop bands, nor can I even name one song that Blur have ever released. I can’t even hum a tune of theirs! So anyways we are sitting around in my living room and all of a sudden the lead singers’ mobile phone rings and I hear him say “sorry, what was your name? James Packer?” I almost choke on my coffee as he has no idea who James packer is (Australia’s richest man at age 39) and when whatever his name is (the lead singer)gets off the phone he says “wow man, we are going to play on James Packers yacht and he is paying us $1,000,000 to do so”. Not being one to miss an opportunity, I ask if I can make like a roadie and tag along and next thing I know the dream takes me to a super yacht on Sydney Harbour! Here it all gets blurry, pardon the pun, but what a dream hey ?

I can only assume it was the duck eggs and pigs intestines I had for dinner last night ??

Up to the Laos Border and back

With 5 days off for the Birthday of His Majesty Preah Bat Samdech Preah Baromneath Norodom Sihamoni, King of Cambodia, it was time for a bike ride out to the Provinces. My good mates Jeff and Brady from Adventure Moto and their mate Andy were planning a trip to Ratanakiri Province which is in the far North on the Laos border and when I asked if I could tag along they were all for it . I had proved I was a competent rider last year when I rode out to Kirirom with them and we had since become good friends. Preparations were made in advance, first aid supplies were procured, all clothes were packed in zip lock dry bags, GPS Units, cameras and MP3 players were charged, spare batteries were bought, bikes were thoroughly checked and after waiting like a little kid on Xmas night it was time to go. So on Saturday morning 12th May at 7am, two XR250s, two DRZ400s and 7 people (all the guys had their partners but Leakhena could not make it due to work commitments) rolled out of Phnom Penh and were soon winging it through the countryside at a leisurely 100kph with the first stop to be Kratie on the Mekong River and home to the rare Irawadi Dolphins.

We decided on taking road 76 (a left turn about 2 hours our of PP) which cuts 90kmh off the gloriously paved National Road 7 that goes all the way to Kratie but what you get in exchange is a slicker than shit mud road that after some heavy rain (which we got for an hour) takes all your skills to stay on your bike. I took a small fall at low speed and there were many close calls with all riders. I felt for the guys riding two up because as much as I love my girl, I was glad I was riding solo! The good old Toyota Camries passed us at warp speed and it was an exercise in timing to ensure you were nowhere near a water puddle when they went by because they stop for nothing. It was then that one of Cambodia’s random and dangerous situations reared its ugly head. As we crossed a small bridge on road 76 in the middle of nowhere we came across two cars ramming each other head on. Reverse, accelerate, BANG CRUNCH. What the ^%$? So we stopped to see what it was all about and then one of the Khmer guys jumps out of the car with a pistol and starts popping off rounds. The girls started screaming and you have never seen 4 dirt bikes take off so fast. The cars actually followed us down the road as they continued to ram each other and we thought it was going to get real messy but luckily we lost them and were soon stopping for a debrief “ Jesus Christ did you see that !!!!!!! "

We stopped every hour and a half or so to have a drink and give the bums a break and after 6 hours we arrived wet and muddy into Kratie and in desperate need of a shower. After checking into our $5 rooms on the Mekong riverfront, we made for the You Hong Guest House next to the Market for a well earned nosh up. Much food and cold beer was consumed and I decided to take a small walk to digest my grub. As I walked around the corner I noticed a monkey chained to the back of a pick up truck full of people and luggage and I smiled at everyone and got my camera out to take a picture of the monkey. The monkey must have been camera shy because it turned away from me and as I patiently waited for it to turn back to my horror its owner went over and openly handedly slapped it in the head with enough force to knock a man over. I told him not to hit the monkey and said it was OK, I will wait for the photo and please don’t hit the monkey. The owner smiled at me and as I waited he DID IT AGAIN! This time I swore at him loudly and made it clear that if he hit the monkey again, I would do the same to him. Maybe my Khmer isn’t as good as I thought and after this little arsehole hit the ( by now cowering ) monkey in the head for the third time, my wick was lit and I went over to this chap and slapped him in the head so hard it knocked him over some boxes and left him laid out on the ground. I looked at the crowd in the pick up who were all gawping at me “ anybody else want some ?? “ and then I went and stood over the monkey’s owner and told him to get up for another wack. He just cowered on the ground and I was sorely tempted to kick the shit out of him then and there. I walked back to the You Hong in a small state of rage but feeling better for having giving the owner a taste of his own medicine. Sometimes you cannot just stand by. We left the You Hong and moved onto Red Sun Falling restaurant for a few more drinks before retiring exhausted to bed and sleep came quickly.

Sunday 13th May was Ratanakiri Day and I was told were facing 250km off extremely crappy roads. However the first 2 hours was up the incredible National Road 7 which is so good you could seriously land a 747 jumbo on it (cows, dogs and chickens not withstanding and there are plenty of them all over the road so be careful !). It is fresh, wide bitumen all the way to this intersection in the middle of nowhere and then the fun begins as you hang aright to Ratanakiri and it disintegrates into a dirt road of varying quality. At some stages it was greasy and rutted out and other stages were hard packed clay through tall forests. Plantations of all types rolled by and we were blessed with sunny weather and a relatively dry road. Ratanakiri is extremely lush and there were photo opportunities galore as we crossed little streams and timber bridges and blasted through small villages waving at the kids. After stopping in the middle of nowhere for the dodgiest meal in the dodgiest shack restaurant I have ever been into in Cambodia we rolled into Ban Lung around 3pm and whilst my mates opted to stay at some god awful hotel near the roundabout in the centre of town, I decided to search for something special and at the advice of a work colleague I checked Terres Rouge Lodge but all the UNDP Landcruisers parked outside were a bad sign and on entry to the ( admittedly lovely ) grounds, I was confronted by a pod of fat white NGO whales drinking gin and tonics and that always scares me off. On the other side of the lake I could see a large hotel with some lovely looking bungalows and 15mins later I was ensconced in one ($15) with incredible views of the lake and mountains beyond, bath tub, cable television and shuttered windows all around. I rang my traveling crew to say “HA HA ” and they were soon joining me in the lovely timber restaurant overlooking the lake cursing their decision to stay in downtown Ban Lung which , frankly, is a shithole. They made arrangements to stay the next night in the adjoining bungalows and I made arrangements with my ever accommodating boss to stay another day. That night at the girl’s insistence we went and get a karaoke room and it was the dingiest experience I have ever had. It was certainly no X2 or Rock Club (PP’s finest karaoke clubs) that’s for sure however Jeff and I belted out John Denver’s “ Take me home country road” so all was not lost.

Monday 14th May was Jungle riding day and we decided to head for the 7 steps Waterfall. We had a map and we were all packing GPS units and we headed out through the glorious Ratanakiri countryside on a sunny, cloudless day confident we would soon be swimming in a lovely waterhole. Not so. The track soon got smaller and smaller and then became single track through some extremely heavy jungle and after asking many random country folk out in the middle of absolutely nowhere where this pace was and getting all sorts of conflicting answers, we eventually conceded defeat and headed back for a well know and better marked waterfall. I will say the riding through the jungle was INSANE though. Challenging single track through lush rubber plantations and bamboo forests and over streams and around small lakes. It was seriously dirt biking heaven and it really took my riding to a new level and I am proud to say I did not take one spill. We only had one mishap, that being Andy dropping his bike front wheel first into a deep rut and suffering minor pipe burn. At stages along the road where it was almost impassible due to being washed out there would be these little alternative tracks and on these tracks little kids had built bamboo gated toll ways and were holding everyone to ransom for a safe crossing. Well, I was having none of this and the first one I rode at so fast they opened it before I even got there. The second one was staffed by a bunch of 16-18 year old thugs all smoking and leering so I just popped a mono and rode straight over their boom gate smashing it to pieces and the final one there was a bunch of 6 year old kids standing around smoking so I stopped, grabbed each and every cigarette and through them in the mud and then blasted off into the jungle as they all stood there dumbfounded. Cruel you ask? Well…. little kids should not smoke and I do not appreciate being extorted. Make of it what you will. After a swim in the waterfall we headed back to the Bungalows via lunch in a nice restaurant in Ban Lung overlooking a valley and I also procured a jug or rice wine for the evening’s entertainment. Beers flowed and the jug was passed around and again sleep came swiftly.

Tuesday 15th May and it was back to Kratie and we all made it with not a single mishap. This time we checked into a different hotel on the river and we all pretty much showered, flaked out for a few hours and then did our own thing. I went down to the markets for two bowls of Bo Bo sait cherook and a couple of beers (total bill $2) and then it was back to the room, some National Geographic on the TV and then a sound nights sleep.

Wednesday 16th May and were off back to Phnom Penh. We decided on taking National Road 7 the whole way even tough it was a bit longer we just did not feel like battling road 76 again. All was fine until Memot and then the road gets busier and busier and soon it is warfare as you head back the last 50km into PP with all manner of vehicles doing their best to kill you. We did make a stop for lunch at the fantastic Mekong Crossing restaurant in Kampong Cham which serves a wicked burger and has a great view. I arrived back to Adventure Moto first and after a cold beer I started to get a bad feeling in my stomach as the others were taking too long too arrive. I then got a phone call from Jeff to say that Andy had t-boned a drunken Khmer on a scooter who had turned in front of him just near the Japanese Bridge and whilst Andy and his partner were ok, the Khmer guy was a mess. Could I organise a Doctor to make a statement to say he was drunk? Well I tried but I did not know too many Doctors so I headed back over the Japanese Bridge to see if I could help. On arrival there were police and wailing family members and it was a general shit fight of the highest order. I went into bullshit mode and told them I was from the US embassy and demanded a blood sample be taken to Calmette Hospital and was told this wasn’t possible. The amazing thing was that I was able to just stroll into the operating room and so witnessed then putting this guy’s foot back together in all its bloody glory. His foot was laid open to the bone and looked like it had been tough a mincer and a coupe of his toes had almost been severed. I actually held his head still because he was writhing around and I was not even sure if they had given him a local anesthetic and at the same time I tried to console his screaming sister. In the end I left Andy to deal with it because it was just drawing on and when he showed up at the bar later it turns out he paid $160 for the medical bill and was also going to sling the family a couple of hundred for drugs etc. Shit…what a way to end an otherwise awesome trip.

I can highly recommend Ratanakiri for the serious riders out there. It really is motocross heaven and I will definitely go back there for a week of riding and exploring. Go with a friend though and preferable one up on your bike as there are spots where having a passenger is definitely a hazard. Enjoy!

Distance Traveled; 1300km
Actual Riding Time; 26 hours
Maximum Speed; 107kph
Nights away; 4

Cost all inclusive of gasoline, accommodation, meals, beer etc; US$200

Review; Metro Cafe

Yesterday it was one of my work colleague’s birthday and as no-one else in the office was polite enough to join him for a boozy lunch, I begrudgingly volunteered. Metro was chosen as the venue and with my colleague’s promises of “Juicy steak sandwiches made with real Australian beef cut inches thick” I set off in anticipation for my first taste of real Aussie meat since leaving my sunburnt country several months ago. His directions were not great so I drove up and down the riverfront a couple of times before I located it and after parking my bike I entered a deliciously air conditioned and very smart restaurant in a prime location.

We were seated in some very comfortable high chairs by the gorgeously dressed staff (Silk Black uniforms – very Armani!) and were soon sipping cold Grolsch beers ($4) and admiring the polished concrete walls and floors. The huge glass windows provided a fantastic 180degree outlook along both Sisowath Quay and Street #148 and a killer view of the Tonle Sap and the passing riverfront throng. As I looked around Metro I was very impressed with the upmarket yet understated ambience of the place and I was surprised I had not been there before – being the man about town that I am! I really liked what I was seeing. Next to us a huge table of very well dressed expat businessmen (ties!) was dining and I got the feeling Metro was a bit of a hub for the high end of town.

Then it all went horribly wrong. My expectations were shattered as when my steak “sandwich” ($4.50) arrived the first thing I noted was that it was actually made with a Baguette and not slices of bread. Now this may seem a trifling to you but in Australia, steak sandwiches are an institution. They are on every bistro menu, are the staple of every club fundraiser and adhere to a fairly set recipe. FRENCH baguettes are certainly NOT part of that recipe. Slices of bread are. Sometimes toasted. Sometimes not. Having said that, I will say the baguette was very fresh. Secondly, finally, and most importantly, the “Steak” was almost non-existent and the measly strips were more suited to a stir-fry than a steak sandwich. In fact, I could hardly taste any beef as the baguette was so voluminous it overwhelmed everything else.

Now I should say at this stage that it was a very nice lunch HOWEVER my expectations of eating an Aussie style steak sandwich were well and truly shattered. Also, in fairness it was my work colleague that set the expectation, not Metro but hey do advertise a Steak Sandwich and what I got was a very nice “beef strip baguette” . I would recommend they change the name on the menu to reflect this. I have heard good reports from friends that other dishes on the menu are fantastic and the décor and general feel of Metro is outstanding so I would certainly go there again. I just would not order that “beef strip baguette”!!

Review; Xman Beer Garden

My workmates and I were discussing the possible outcomes of the Khmer Rouge trials when the conversation naturally turned to beer. How we got from one subject to the other is a little hard to explain but suffice to say it did to take too long. So there we were sitting around after a hard days work and we all agreed we were sick and bloody tired of all the usual haunts and as it was a dark stormy afternoon in The Penh, we decided to go local and visit a Khmer beer garden. The suggestions came thick and fast with my colleagues typically trying to steer us towards establishments close to their ( out of the way ) abodes, but we eventually settled on Xman Beer garden on the corner of Sihanouk Blvd and Street #51 ( next to the Red Cox beer garden ). On the way over I stopped at a carwash behind the Royal Palace to have the Baja cleaned up after my weekend ride to Sihanoukville and the young lads did such a good job I paid them $2 instead of the usual .50c. They were elated and I was happy to give them a good tip for a solid job however due to the rain the bike was filthy again within minutes. Ho Hum.

On arrival at this convivial and cheery beer garden we were seated outside under an awning amongst tables of beer guzzling Khmer men and before we had even put posterior to plastic we were inundated with Tiger and Anchor beer girls in their smart little dresses. Jugs were a snip at 7000R ($1.75) so we were soon enjoying some frosty lagers and salted peanuts whilst watching the rain fall down. We ordered a simple plate of delicious BBQ beef ( $2.50 ) which came with all sorts of condiments from chilli to sauces to chopped nuts. The beef was delicious and as we chatted away we decided that Khmer beer gardens were definitely the way forward. Several jugs later and it was time for us all to move on. The bill for 3 of us came to $9 and that covered several jugs of beer and the food. All in all a successful post-work wind down and something I can definitely recommend.

The "Help Us Pick A Name For Our Baby" game

Well...the heat is on ladies and gents. Leakhena wants a baby and she wants one YESTERDAY. If you can be bothered, please post your favourites. Right now I am demanding Serey for my little girls name.

The meaning of Khmer names are as follows ;Achariya: (M/F) wonderful, marvelous Akara: (M/F) letter Amara: (M) deity Anchaly: (M/F) hand Arun (M) Arunny (F) : Morning sun Ary (F) : Knowledge Atith (M): Sunny day, Sunday Bona: (M) boy/man Botum (F) regal lady, princess Bopha: (F) beautiful flowers Bora, Boran: (M) ancient Boupha: (F) flower-like Borey, Bourey: (M) country, great city Bunroeun: (M) the country Chakra/Chakara : (M) Center of energy Champei: (F) type of flower with fragrant white or red flowers Chamroeun : (M/F) Prosperity Chan: (F) from the fragrant tree; moon; Monday Chankrisna : (M/F) A sweet-smelling tree Chanlina: (F) moonlight Chanmony: (F) moonlight which shines like a diamond Chann : (M) the moon Channary: (F) moon-faced girl Chanthavy: (F) beautiful moon girl, moon angel Chanthou, Chantou: (M/F) flower Chantrea : (M/F) moonlight, moon Chanvatey: (M/F) educated person, scholar Charya, Chakriya, Chariya: (M/F) good character Chavy: (F) little angel Chaya: (F) glorious, praise Chea: (M/F) to be well, healthy Chenda: (F) thought, idea; beloved, dearest Chhay: (M) attractive, charming Chhaya: (M/F) shadow; image; beauty; light Chhean: (F) meditation, contemplation Chhorvin, Chhorvon: (F) glamorous Chivy: (F) Life Choum: (F) refreshingly beautiful Da: (F) rock, stone Dara : (M/F) Star; Precious Darany : (M) Stars Darareaksmey : (F) bright shining star Davi, Davy, Daevy, Devi: (F) angel Heng : (M) Lucky Jorani : (F) radiant jewel Kalianne, Kaliyan, Kalliyan, Koliyan : (F) sweet darling; morally good; charming Kaliyanei: (F) beautiful, lovely, attractive Kanleakhana: (F) possessing character Kannareth: containing a beautiful quality similar to a flower Kannitha: (F) angels Kanya: (F) beauty, virgin, girl Kesor: (F) beautiful, heavenly lady Khemera : (M) Pali for "Cambodian" Kiri : (M) Mountain, mountain peak Kolab: (F) rose Kolthida: (F) daughter of a respectable family; young woman Kong Kea: (M) Big water Kosal : (M) Clever, magical, merit (usually gained in return from what you have given) Kravann: (M/F) tiny golden brown flower fragrant in the evening Kunthea, Kun Thea : (F) the fragrance of a flower, sweet smelling; good deed, kindness, favor Leakena: (F) attribute, characteristic, quality Leap: (M/F) good luck, good fortune, success Mach: (F) melodious Makara: (M/F) January Malis, M'liss: (F) Southeast Asian jasmine Maly: (F) flower blossom Many, Mony: (M/F) precious stone, gem Mao/Mau : (M/F) dark skin Meaker : (M) greatest Mean: (F) wealthy Mittapheap: (M) friendship - as in between nations Mliss : (F) flower that grows in Cambodia Montha : (M) charming Munny, Munney: (M) wise Nakry: (F) sweet-smelling, night-blooming flower, similar to jasmine Narin: superior Narith : (M) masculine man Nary : (F) small beautiful bird or girl Nearidei: (F) white four-leafed flower fragrant in the evening Neary: (F) girl, gentle girl Nhean: (M) intuitive, knowledgeable Nimith: (M) transformation Nimol: (M) flawless Nisay : (M) loved from afar / love at first sight Noreaksey: (M) great power, truthful Nuon: (F) soft and tender, pleasant Oudom: (M) excellent, supreme, magnificent, plentiful Phala: (M) prosperous Phally: (F) prosperity Phary: (F) beautiful, good flower Pheakdei: (M/F) loyalty, honesty Pheakkley: (F) faithfulness Phhoung: (F) wreath of flowers Phirum: (M) comfort and peacefulness Phirun: (M) rain Pich: (M/F) diamond Piseth : (M) rare in power or quality; supreme, magnificent, greatest Pisey : (M/F) little darling; supreme, special; beloved, dearest Poeu, Peou: (M/F) youngest one Ponleak: (M) strength, endurance Ponleu (M) Ponnleu (F): light, illumination Ponlok: (M/F) darling, dear; to sprout Prak: (M) silver Pros: (M) boy, man Punthea: (F) gentle Puthyrith: (M) merciful power Putrea: (F) Cambodian plum Rachana: (M/F) art, fine arts, artistic decoration Rachany: (F) night Raksmei, Rangsei, Rasmey: (M/F) ray of light Rainsey : (M) rays of the sun going away from the Buddha, a traveler; last name of prominent Cambodian politician, Sam Rainsey. Rath, Roth: (M/F) a type of flower; orphan Rathana, Rothana, Rottana, Rotha: (M/F) Nationalist; precious stones, jewels Rathanak, Rothanak: (M) precious stones, jewels Reach: (F) beautiful Reasmey: (M/F) ray, sunshine Reaksmey : (F) bright, shining and sparkling Rithisak: (M) powerful Rith: (M) power, strength, courage, prosperity Rithipol: (M) mystical powers and strength Rithy : (M) powerful strength Rom Chang : (F) water flower Rotha : beautiful country Roumduol: (F) type of flower (typically grows around Angkor Wat) Roumjong: (F) water plant with white/purplish-blue flower Sakngea: (M) dignitary, statesman Saley: (F) french origin - a plant grown in Europe and used in the production of beer Samay: (M) modern, contemporary; daydream Sambath : (M) great wealth or asset; fortune Samlain: (M) buddy, friend Samnang, Samang, Somnang : (M) lucky, fortunate Samphy: (M/F) hard working, busy Samrin : (M) the name of a past Cambodian political leader Sangha: (M) handsome Sann: (M) peaceful, quiet, comfortable Sathea, Sotear : (M/F) compassion Savady, Sawatdee : (F) Thai greeting Seda, Setha, Sita : (F) wife of Rama Serey : (M/F) freedom, born free; beauty, charm, splendor; peace, prosperity; power, authority Seyha : (F) August Sikha : (F) peaceful, content Sinuon: (F) a type of flower Sobin, Soboen: (F) dream Socheat: (F) well born, well grown Sok : (F) well, peaceful, happy Sokha : (M/F) peaceful, content Sokhanya: (F) peaceful lady Sokhem: (M) hope Sokhom: (M/F) safe, happy SokMean: (F) happy and wealthy Sokun: (M) good smell (sok=good, kun=smell) Sombo : (F) fullness of wealth, plentiful Sonisay : (F) one you like at first impression Sonith: (M) good conduct or manners Sopath, Sopat, Sophat: (M) soft, gentle Sophal: (F) cultivation Sophea : (M/F) clever, wisdom Sopheap : (M/F) soft, gentle, lovely; proper, well-mannered Sopheara: (M) handsome, attractive Sopheary : (F) lovely, attractive, beautiful girl Sopheaktra : (M) gentle face Sophon: (F) beauty Sophorn : (F) glamour Soportevy: (F) beautiful, angelic, a beautiful girl like an angel Soriya : (F) sun Sorpheny: (F) beautiful Sorya, Soriya: (M/F) sun Sotear, Sothea, Sotheara, Sotearith: (F) compassionate, generous; sweet flower Sotha: (M) from soth meaning 'pure' Sotharith, Sothea, Sotearith: (M) compassion Sothear: (M) clean, pure; bright; light ray; ambrosia; generous Sothiya: (M) pure soul Sothy: (M/F) intelligence, cleverness; scholar, sage Sourkea : (M/F) heaven Sov: (M) Saturday Sovanara: (F) dream Sovandary : (F) gold star Sovann: (M/F) gold; dream Sovanna: (M/F) golden; dream Sovannary, Sovaneary : (F) golden girl Sovannarith : (M) golden boy SraEm, Sraem: (F) beautiful brown skin color Srey : (F) girl, feminine Srey Doung : (F) young coconut girl Srey Leak: (F) perfect girl SreyMau: (F) black girl Sreymom, Srey Mom: (F) beloved girl Sreynuon: (F) tender girl Sreypich, Srey Pich, SreyPek : (F) diamond girl Sros: (M/F) charmingly beautiful Suorsdey : (F) "hello", joyful greeting Tevy, Taevy : (F) angel, angelic Thavary: (F) an angel or good spirit Theary : (F) helper or aide Thom: (M/F) oldest one; large Thida, Thyda: (F) girl born of royalty, daughter of the gods; angelic girl Tina : (F) where Toch, Touch: (F) little, young one, small Vanna: (F) golden Vannak: (M) having class Veasna, Visna : (M/F) destiny, fate Veata: (F) the wind Veha: (M) sky Vibol: (M) abundant; large, many Vichear: (M) knowledge or education Vichet: (M) magnificent, very beautiful; colorful Vimean : (F) royalty or grandeur Vireak: (M) absence of desire Vireakboth: (M) brave, ingenious, noble son Visal: (M/F) excellent, large, vast Viseth: (M) excellent, superb, marvelous Visoth: (M) heavenly, pure Visothirith: (M) visothi 'pure' + rith Vithara: (M) spacious, large, expansive; long and detailed Vithu: (M) wise, intelligent, scholarly, erudite

Review; Restaurant Stall # 11 / Street # 7

I have to admit…I really DO like eating on the street in Cambodia. Most of the stomach bugs I have contracted here have come directly after eating at more touristy establishments along the riverfront etc and so I eat with gusto at food stalls with none of the common fears that most travelers or germ-o-philes carry with them. I love trying all sorts of new and interesting foods and have eaten things that most people would gag at. Spiders, cockroaches, crickets, ants, snakes, sparrows, developed duck eggs, turtle…you name it, I have eaten it. Hell…..I have even eaten Durian and that is something because it stinks. Don’t EVER leave it in your fridge.

There is one street restaurant I have been to maybe 2 dozen times, sometimes alone with my Khmer lessons, sometimes with my fiancée, and sometimes with a group of Khmer friends. This restaurant deserves a review of its own as sometimes these small street vendors get overlooked for the well know haunts along the riverfront with fancy set-ups and premium positions. As anyone who lives in Phnom Penh knows, away from the river is a myriad of food stalls and marketplaces brimming with all types of gastronomic options. However, Restaurant #11, Street #7, just opposite Asia Development Bank is a stand out for simple reasons. The food is awesome, the host is lovely and it is so cheap it is ridiculous.

This restaurant sits in a row of homogenous establishments. Red plastic tables and chairs, an awning over the top, hot pots cooking right in view at the front, you know the type. I cannot even remember why I chose this one as we cruised past but from memory it was because everyone else had customers but this one did not so I decided the lovely lady smiling at us and beckoning us to eat would get my business that night. What a great decision! That first night I ate lovely chicken curry (3500R) and quaffed a cold Anchor beer(2000R) and as live khmer music wafted from the park behind, we enjoyed a delightful meal that cost around $3 for both of us. Her gorgeous young daughter danced around us and her husband smiled in the background as I could only blurt out “ch’ngang” over and over (it was early days in my Khmer learning). A new friendship was born.

Now when we show up on the Baja, the daughter runs out to greet us and Srey XXX smiles a mile wide and greets us like friends. We sit at the same tables in the same seats every time we visit and I barely have to even nod now and my dinner is on its way. I have refined my meal now to two bowls of bo bo sait moen (a haughty chicken soup with vegetables) and two dtuk um pov (a lovely cold drink made from sugar cane ) and whist that drives my bill sky high to $2.25, it is well worth it. As the sweat generated from eating hot food in 35 degree heat pours from my body (there is no AC and no fans in these stalls that are rented at $50 a month from the government), I cannot help but think of the detoxifying attributes of the meal as well and the Khmer all swear by bo bo as a cure all for any ailments you might have.

So the next time you are hungry and what some good Khmer tucker, head over to Restaurant #11, Street #7. Introduce yourself and enjoy honest, cheap food cooked right in front of you as though you are eating in your own kitchen. Practice your Khmer and take a stroll into the park afterwards to watch the performance of the night. Last night it was blind amputees singing Khmer songs with voices so beautiful it was haunting. What will it be next time? I don’t know…but I do know it won’t be long until I am there again …..

Review;The Orange Club

After several weeks of hitting the same venues for my weekly dose of tripping the light fantastic, a new venue came onto my radar thanks to my Khmer partner and her friends. Apparently there was a hot new venue newly opened called Orange Club and all of Phnom Penh’s hep cats were now busy shaking their booty on its dance floor. So with mad and reckless abandon, Friday Night rolled around and I said “right…let’s get this party started” and we were soon winging it to the OC on St#264 just opposite the Bong Karem Ice Cream Shop.

Orange is an understatement. Try tangerine on acid. The building is so orange it gives orange a new definition. I can just see the owners sitting around saying “Let’s just paint it as bright as we can and they will come!! “. It is so bright I should have brought my sunglasses and I pity the poor souls that had to actually do the painting. I am sure they are recuperating in a hospice for the blind. There is ample and safe off street parking and I got to play my usual good-natured “You frisk me for weapons / I frisk you for weapons” with the security team. An extra squeeze on the bum for them always gets the laughs happening and they never quite know what to make of the Aussie guy with the flat hat on. If I am feeling extra playful I usually flash the Khmer tattoo and then they all start asking how? when? and why ?questions .All good, pre-clubbing fun.

Having made it past the visual assault of the exterior décor and the physical assault of the door staff, it is into the OC we go and H O L Y C R A P is the music loud. I am tone deaf within seconds as I am confronted with stacks of speakers the size of small buildings belting out cheesy Khmer pop. Once I gather my faculties as best I can (remember, by now I am blind, limping AND deaf) I head to the bar and SCREAM at the Barman for 5 beers ($1.50 a pop) and some earplugs. I get the former but not the latter and I am soon propped at the bar perusing the crowd which isn’t easy because it is darker than a bear’s cave and the flashing neon is working overtime to create that dance club atmosphere.

The crowd is all Khmer, all well dressed and all bopping away like kids at an under age disco. My girlfriends all start jamming in their very modern, hip hop style and I can feel the eyeballs of every young lad in the OC centre in on them. This never bothers me but when they start circling like a pack of sharks it is time for me to break out some of my finest Rock Steady Crew break dancing moves. My arms and legs are soon moving like the rotors on a helicopter and the crowd is forced to give me the room and show me the respekt! I deserve. We are all soon bouncing away to Beyonce and after a few songs I declare to my friends I have had enough and we all depart for another of PP’s finest dance venues.

So, the OC. Loud, colorful and Khmer orientated, it is air-conditioned, has pool tables, safe parking and very loud music. Not really my scene but that does not mean it might not be yours. If you wanted to mix it with the local kids and enjoy the difference, it could well be for you. Just take your sunglasses ok ?

Weekend in Sihanoukeville and that cursed Death Highway

With a long weekend up my sleeve (one day holiday due to Royal Ploughing Ceremony….don’t ask – I have no idea!) the decision was made to head to Sihanoukville and the beach and at the last minute Leakhena announced she could come with me. The Baja was packed and it was with intrepidation we set off South on “Death Highway”. Thoughts of my ride out to Kirirom National Park along the same road last year (when we saw multiple crashes and deaths) were in my mind and it was not long before the road delivered. We passed a little moto all smashed up in the middle of a large blood pool and then 10 minutes later I watched as the scooter driver in front of me wobbled severely ( drunk ?? ) and then fell sideways into the 4WD next to me and went under the back wheel. We had been on the bike all of about 20 minutes. Did I stop? Hell no. Experience teaches you to just look ahead and keep going because the last thing you want is to get involved in the ensuing crowd scene that occurs post-accident. I have heard stories of Westerners stopping to assist and then being blamed or implicated. I have become quite desensitized to the site of severe accidents and have seen more than my fair share of dead bodies here. As flippant as it may seem, it is a way of life in Cambodia that everyone has to get used to.

As the sun scorched my bare forearms and left razor like lines between the white skin and the new red skin, we toiled on for 4 long hours with a few stops to break the monotony and generally give our bums a break. I found a lovely river and soon stripped off to swim whilst Leakhena sheltered in a small hut nearby. The water was cool and fresh and just what the doctor ordered. Another stop was made to drink 5 of the sugar cane juices that are available everywhere at 25c. They are cold and refreshing and the girl thought I was mad as I constantly said “sohm muay tiet!” (One more!). All the while I watched my GPS unit intently and the coastline it showed us heading tantalizingly towards almost seemed unattainable at stages. We would get so close and then would head away again into the hinterland. Struth this ride was killing me.

Eventually Sihanoukville came into sight and we were soon following the directions given to me by my Managing Director, Jeffrey, to his Villa which he had kindly lent us for the weekend. We followed the map down a few dusty trails and out into the lush area behind the coast and after asking neighbors for the key, we were soon standing in front of a glorious looking compound with mango and banana trees, two resident dogs wagging their tales and a basketball court. Heaven! The Villa was two stories and had 5 huge bedrooms, a big lounge area, 2 huge bathrooms WITH BATHS, a huge deck upstairs and a western style kitchen. It was a short 5 ride to the beach and would suit us to a tee for the next couple of days. We unpacked our clothes, washed from the freshwater urns outside the house and then got ready for dinner as by now we were famished.

I decided on sticking with what I knew and so headed to Ocheutal beach for one of the beachfront restaurants Sarah and I had eaten at last May called Bayonne Beach restaurant. We sat on low wicker chairs right on the beach and enjoyed Pizza and Tom Yam soup, a banana milkshake and the view of the moon as saltwater almost lapped out our feet. After dinner we mosied over to Eden Bar for a beer and the it was home to a much earned sleep which wasn’t easy for me as I was so burnt !

The next day we had breakfast on Victory beach and then went to the market to buy some fresh crab, squid, vegetables and assorted sundries for a slap up bbq back at the house. After delivering the food and beer and ice to the villa we donned our swimsuits and went back to Victory beach for a swim in the mid afternoon and I have to say Victory Beach was much nicer than Ocheutal. Cleaner sand and much cleaner water with no rocks. There is a great hotel on the hill being renovated with a big rustic wooden staircase made out of trees that winds down the hill to the sand. It should be amazing when it is finished. It was then back to the villa and whilst Leakhena prepared all the food I lit the little pot bbq and prepared the outside gazebo with mats and candles etc and played with the two great little dogs. The black one was my favourite. Reminded me a lot of Ralph the Wonder Dog from all those years ago. As we tucked into the seafood and drank cold beer and talked and kissed I explained to Leakhena the concept of “It doesn’t get any better than this! “and she quite agreed. Sleep came swiftly with a belly full of fresh food and as always when I eat seafood, the dreams ran rampant.

The morning brought rain but with the rain came the cool so it was a welcome break and we were soon busy tidying away the Villa in readiness for our return trip which I really was NOT looking forward to. Riding the Death Highway is a percentages game. Do it often enough and something WILL happen to you. We locked the Villa and gave the keys back to the old toothless lady who was the caretaker and gave the little dogs one last pat on the head before heading to Monkey Republic for a slap-up English Breakfast. We tucked into sausages and eggs and baked beans as the rain came down but soon enough it stopped and who would walk in but Charlie, the young English chap John McGinley had introduced me too last year. Charlie is 22 and lives in Sihanoukville and has married a local lass and he asked if we wanted to see the house he is building. I gratefully accepted and he took us across the road and showed us his palace with its big land and views of the coast. I congratulated him on his achievements and told him to make sure we were on the house warming list. With a farewell handshake we were on our way back to Phnom Penh.

The first 120km of the 240 km trip were pure joy. Cloud cover meant it was cool, the road was dry and there were no cars or trucks anywhere to be seen. As the tunes wafted out of the MP3 and Leakhena tweaked on my nipples (it’s a Khmer thing!) we swooped around corners and over hills and all the time gazed over rice paddies and verdant palm plantations. I was just thinking how perfect the ride was and then we hit the 121km mark and it all went to hell. The bike conked out and after first thing it was petrol (lack thereof) I soon discovered I had lost the gearbox so there we were in the middle of nowhere and I could sense an ordeal coming on. The first to stop to assist was a nice young chap and his family on their scooter. He unloaded the family and gave me a lift to get oil and gas and after filling up both on the bike it still would not start. Next to stop was a van who offered a tow to the next nearest town where we could either get it fixed or hire a truck to take the bike back to Phnom Penh. I was dubious about this when the length of twine was given to me but with little choice I had to accept. I was now at the mercy of a driver who had a van full of people and after briefing Leakhena on some basic hand signals, we set off at 80kmh with me about 4m behind the van !! It was the most terrifying hour of my life as we passed not only a fatal accident with two dead bodies laid out on the road, but also various livestock on the road , buses came up behind us and almost knocked me off etc etc. By the time we stopped at the town I was a mess.

Thank god for Leakhena though. She organized another van and after tying the bike into the back (again with some dubious twine) we were bound for the city – but not before we picked up an extra 15 passengers or so! We arrived safely and I must admit it was good not having to drive back into PP with the peak hour traffic which is mad along that road. The bike was unloaded at Vay’s bike shop and after a beer and a meal at Leakhena’s it was back to my apartment and into bed exhausted at 730pm.

What a weekend! Phew…..

Fat kids and BBQs

Aussies need a bbq like a fat kid needs cake and although I gave serious consideration to bringing my Weber Bay Q to Cambodia with me, at 30kg it was a tad too heavy. Those of you who have read “Pimping your Pad in Phnom Penh” will realise how salubrious my rooftop now is and how much a bbq would add to its allure and general enjoyment. Besides which, my kitchen is the size of a cupboard and bench space is non-existent. You could not swing a fat kid in my kitchen. So the other day I decided to go on a bbq hunt. How hard could it be to find a decent gas bbq in Phnom Penh? Well, bloody hard as it turns out! I went over hill and down dale (ok ok so I criss crossed Phnom Penh’s flatlands) and the best I could find were some custom numbers at Psar o Russey. Some ingenious little chap had welded a 20 gallon drum to a stand with 4 legs and had coated it in metallic silver looking paint. God only knows what was in the drum before hand? Diesel? Acid? And the paint looked toxic enough to take the icing right off a fat kid’s cake. He also had some nice looking little Weber style hibachis but the biggest problem was…they were not gas! They would require you to procure a huge bag of Cambodia’s finest charcoal created from the ever dwindling supply of local timber and then you would need to scavenge thongs off the road to use as fire starters as there are none available here in Phnom Penh (or if there ARE please email me!). I did not fancy the thought of rubber and soot raining down on my beloved rooftop like sprinkles on a fat kid’s cake so I was keen to get the gas happening. In the end I got absolutely fed up with looking and my eye turned back to the ever faithful and most popular bbq model here in Cambodia, the ceramic pot. So I headed for Psar Kandal and after a small bout of haggling I was soon winging my way back to the apartment with a pot, some tongs and two grills strapped to the Baja. All for the princely sum of $4.

It was then off to the local shops for a few small bags of Cambodia’s finest endangered trees and after a brief chat to a little fat Khmer kid that was feeding his face with rice cake, it was up to the roof for my inaugural bbq .How excited was I and now all I had to do was light my little pot and I would soon be in grill heaven. One hour later I was still trying to light the little bastard. Attempts to use an empty Anchor beer carton failed dismally and I soon found myself hacking into a perfectly good pair of counterfeit Diesel thongs like …yes…you guessed it…..a fat kid hacking into a cake. Several beers later and the coals were glowing and it was time to christen this puppy. I descended to the kitchen and removed the trays of fantastic looking sausages and squid secured from Pencil supermarket and gathered up sauces and all the makings of a rooftop extravaganza. However to my dismay, as I ascended, I could not help but notice an unpleasant pong coming from the tray of squid and once I peeled back the plastic, my fears were confirmed. The squid smelt like a fat kid that had eaten way too much cake and had exploded and been left in the sun. PHWWWWOAARRR!!. I almost hurled then and there and made the executive decision to cook the squid anyway as it would be far safer to throw it out cooked than have it sit in the garbage down on the street for an indeterminate time. Soon the sausages were sizzling and the smoke was wafting all over the rooftops and my neighbor was grinning at me and giving me the thumbs up .It was just like being in the back yard at home in OZ and I was soon scarfing down “sossy sango’s” with “marty sauce” all over them and washing it all down with cold Asahi. Pure bliss and at that very moment in time it could not have got any better for me.

Unless of course I had thought to buy some cake…………..

Lounging with the Landord

It was pretty bloody still and hot in my street yesterday evening after work so whilst my new flat mate (herein known as The Flatmate - more on her later…..) slept off her 5th ball tearer in a row, I decided to head down to street level from our lofty heights and visit my landlord’s wife. I hade seen her preparing buckets and buckets of Om Beul (salt) and wanted to get a closer look at this process. So I changed into a pair of shorts, grabbed the camera and a couple of cold beers and mosied the whole 20m to their place. She was delighted to see me of course ( only the day before her husband had come to collect the rent and via my khmer teacher was with me at the time he told me I was a joy to have as a tenant ! ) and I was soon perched on a little stool watching and learning and practicing my language skills. A plate of unripened mangoes and a dipping bowl, of chilli and salt were produced and we were soon joined by her husband, their children and a few street urchins. As we sucked on the mangoes and drank the cold beer, the sweat ran off me. School kids rode past on bikes and as usual practiced their English on me “Hello! How are you? What is your name?”, NGO compound guards played cards nearby and fires were lit filling the street with not too unpleasant smoky smells that reminded me of my childhood and the good old days when you could burn off in a Sydney street without fear of recrimination.

We were joined by Weng, the chap who guards the villa next to my house and he eventually tells me he took it upon himself to secure my bike in his compound for me when I literally just plain forgot to put it away last night! What a guy. He likes to practice his guitar and I think he is a bit of a hit with some of the young Barang girls in the neighborhood because he is quite tall and good looking. As the sunset turned the sky to pink a jet left a trail across the sky that was sharp and clear and the little kids were pointing at it and watching it until it disappeared to places unknown. As I threatened to explode from mango abuse, a plate of rice and a bowl of salty hot fish pieces arrived from my landlord’s house and I was eagerly invited to enjoy a bowl with them. So I did! The fish was incredibly salty but teamed with more mango it was delicious and after an hour with my landlord and his family, I chuffed off home with a full belly and a warm glow. It is moments like this that really make my move to Cambodia worthwhile and the best thing is, they are not rare! They happen every day. Hourly even! If you interact with the Khmer people around you, you will be welcomed to an extent that is really quite …I don’t know…..um…. it’s hard to describe. I was going to say “UNwestern” but of course my fellow countrymen are hospitable. Maybe it is just so great and rewarding that you can sit down with people from another culture and spend an hour with minimal language skills and really have a nice time without any bullshit “Who are you? What do you do? Do you own your house? What do you drive? How diversified are you stocks? blah blah”.

I much prefer “here…pull up a stool and lets have a mango and some rice and shoot the breeze and enjoy the start of the evening! “

Badminton for Beginners

Last week my workmates and I gathered at Flavours bar for a few after work lagers and before too long we had quite a gathering of girlfriends, wives and, to my pleasant surprise, my neighbor Michael. Michael had introduced himself on our adjoining rooftops a week earlier and as it turns out he knows my MD and works in a similar field. As we sipped a few Lao beers at Flavours, he casually mentioned that he played Badminton twice a week with a diverse bunch and I told him I would be eager to play if he was ever short. I remember vaguely watching people play at my local park when I was a young kid and figured although the racket was smaller than that used in tennis, it couldn’t be too dissimilar and as the shuttlecock was effectively a ball with a parachute on it , there would therefore be more time to get to it ( as it floated serenely down from the skies ) and therefore also there would not be so much running around etc. How wrong I would be!

My SMS call up came the very next week.” Badminton 7pm ….be ready! “and I was soon following Michael across Phnom Penh on our bikes to a University where they have a purpose built Badminton court housed in a huge cavernous hall with cathedral like ceilings, exposed beams and resident sparrows flying around. My fellow badminton players were all German with the exception of one reserved American and after exchanging brief pleasantries it was onto the serious business of badminton. At this stage I should point out that the temperature in the hall was in the 30s and I was sweating profusely even after the “warm up”. “hot up” would be more precise! The sweat was running into my eyes and stinging them and making the little racquet extremely hard to grip and I was scared at some stage I might let go of it and it would fly across the room and hit a German in the head and start WW111.

It soon became evident that these guys were s e r i o u s about their badminton. There was a lot of grunting, a lot of posturing like the Chinese Olympic team and very few words of encouragement for me as I toiled hard at holding my end up. They were good too. Jan was an ace, Paul had the legs of an Ibis and so covered my ass effortlessly, Gido was a smasher ( his preferred shot being to propel the shuttlecock straight at you so you copped it in the chest ) and Michael the strategist. Games were won at the 21 point mark and after guzzling a litre of water in a minute it was a change in pairs and then back onto the court for some more thrusting and parrying. The reason for the tall roof became evident as one of the popular shots of the night was a skyward THWACK that sent the shuttlecock into a moon-like orbit. You could almost sit down and relax while it went through its trajectory and then choose whether or not to send it back into orbit or slice it across the net.

After an hour of this I had to excuse, myself to farewell some friends and was quite grateful for the escape as by this time I was swimming in my own body juices. They had all bought towels and large bottles of iced water but there was no sharing. I watched with envy as they toweled themselves down and could only think about the shower later as my armpits squelched and my eyes stung. However, it was bloody enjoyable! What a top way to spend a $1 and an hour. Some shots left me with my arms feeling like they were going to pop out of their sockets as I reached for that elusive shuttlecock and I am sure the detoxifying effects of all that sweating were worth it alone. As I said my farewells I asked for the address of a good sports store so I can procure my own little mosquito swatter and I really hope I get asked again. Next time I will have my own towel and my own water and I am sure this will give me the edge I need to take on the Huns and win !