Out and about in Kep

Kep is a small, seaside town famous for its Crab Market and 157 ruined Modernist villas, built in 1950s for the French colonial elite. They were trying to recreate the French riviera here in IndoChina. The Khmer Rouge destroyed almost all the villas in the 1970s/80s. Today some of the burnt-out ruins are being brought back into use but most are either demolished or left to decay into the jungle.

At last the rains have stopped!

Some "restoration" projects get part way through and then get stuck. This one hasn't changed since we were here last year.

Some lovely architectural features. It must've been a fabulous house once, filled with wealthy Parisians perhaps.

Kep is famous for its blue swimmer crabs.

Which is why this crab sculpture takes pride of place

Along with the naked fisherman's wife, who had a scarf to cover her modesty last year.

The beach is good - despite the reports in some tourist guides. I love swimming here.

Yes, and the sunsets are great. The Crab Market bars face due west and the sun sinks behind Pho Quok island

Roy and Viasna joined us for a couple of days which was lovely.

This is the Crab Market in action.

Pretty local fishing boats head out into the Gulf of Thailand in the evening.

Zebra dove cooing outside our bungalow.

Most days we avoid references to Christmas but sometimes it's difficult - especially when our peanuts arrive on a special dish. Ah well. Happy Christmas all!

Birthdays and rain

It's been a week to celebrate - with Somnang (Michael and Shrena's son) having his 8th birthday party and me having my (much quieter) sixty-first! We've also had torrential tropical downpours and the loudest thunder I've ever heard - but hey, the temperature stays 25-30 degrees so it's not so bad.

Shrena helps Somnang to cut the birthday cake while Eble brings extra sparkles.

My surprise birthday cake brought to the bungalow by Michael and Somnang. Just the one candle! Phew!

The rain has been extraordinary, especially at night, making muddy puddles of the garden. It quickly dries up though.

We set off by tuk-tuk for a night out in the great metropolis - Kampot, about 45 minutes down the road from Kep. 

This is very typical of the Cambodian scenery along the way.

Kampot is a small riverside town popular with travellers and settlers.

Its French colonial origins are manifest in the many bakeries - and giant cinnamon buns.

It rained again so there was nothing to do but to have another coffee and watch the world go by. Perfect.

In the evening the rain cleared up and there was live music at our guest house, the Magic Sponge.

This is Sara, a talented Portuguese singer.

Trevann got to sing and play too, which was great. A relaxed, friendly place. We'll go there again.

Then back home to Bacoma.

Travelling companions

1st-7th December 2016

Leaving St Johns bus stop, Parkstone. Annual photo opp.

Our bungalow at Bacoma, Kep, Cambodia, set in a tropical garden with flowers, butterflies and birds.

This was - strangely - a spider walking up the wall carrying a "bunch of flowers".

Kep has a new tourist map - that obscures most of the attractions.

This fella joined us for a beer.

The crab market in Kep looking unchanged.

Fishermen resting before getting the nets ready for the evening fishing.

Our favourite sunset bar "The Seagull" - and they remember us from last year so had the BeerLao chilled and ready.

Another Bacoma guest takes shelter from a tropical storm.

Trevann blends in with the foliage.

A few pictures - even fewer words.

Reading list

And just before I finish for this year here's a list - more for my record than anything else - of the books I read this winter:

Six and a Half Deadly Sins - Colin Cotterill
Fingersmith - Sarah Waters
The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry - Rachel Joyce
B is for Burglar - Sue Grafton
The Letter - Kathryn Hughes
The Horse Whisperer - Nicholas Evans
Bleeding in Black and White - Colin Cotterill
The Children Act - Ian McEwan
Elizabeth is Missing - Emma Healey
The Paying Guests - Sarah Waters
The Ballroom Cafe - Ann O'Loughlin
Somewhere Towards the End - Diana Athill
Run - Ann Patchett
The Time Traveler's Wife - Andrey Niffenegger

Of which my stand-out favourite is The Ballroom Cafe. Marvellous!

Flutes and monks

Friday 19^th February

There’s a wonderful outfit called “Backstreet Academy” that we've come across in SE Asia in the last couple of years. It puts falang (foreign visitors) who want to learn traditional crafts such as weaving, fishing or basket-making in touch with local traditional craftsmen and women. The visitors get to learn from makers in their own homes and to find out more about their lives and culture. The makers get a modest fee.

Trevann and I signed up to do flute-making with Backstreet Academy this week. We were taken along by our young translator Tuo to the home of Xiengxoing, 63-year-old Hmong master craftsman, instrument maker and musician, for an afternoon of instruction using sharp knives and bamboo. We chatted while we whittled and came away with two fine-sounding flutes and an increased knowledge and appreciation of the past and present lives of Hmong hill tribe families settled in town.

Xengxoing (Song-Vaa) gave us a tune on the kheng (kane), a reeded 6-piped instrument primarily used for traditional Hmong funerals. 

The bamboo flute was apparently used by young Hmong men to communicate their love when courting.

Song-Vaa checks the two bamboo sticks we're to use for our flutes.

The knives were very sharp but wrapped in towels apart from the tip.

The family's cooking fire was used to heat a metal rod to make the finger holes.

A thin pliable strip of special bark, a bit like birch but copper-coloured, was wound round the mouthpiece end.

And glued in place using "traditional Hmong" superglue!

What a great idea - Backstreet Academy. Check it out if you're in Laos, Cambodia or Nepal.

Today I managed for the first time to get up out of bed early enough to witness the tak bak – alms giving ceremony – for which Luang Prabang is famed.

Groups of women wait patiently by the side of the road every morning from 6:00. 

The monks eventually arrive with their lidded alms bowls. A little chanting happens first but then silence.

As the monks file past, each woman drops a small portion of cooked sticky rice in each bowl.

This is the road outside our house.