POSTSCRIPT

'And so the end is near.....' yes the last three months have flown by and here I am preparing to go home; I am very tempted to get an Air Asia flight back to Phnom Penh but common sense overcomes the heart and I board the Emirates 737 jet to Dubai with very mixed feelings. Not quite as emotional as my departure from Cambodia but equally as poignant and upsetting. Having spent this amount of time in a foreign land one gets used to having conversations with ones self and the mind is whirring as I get comfy for the six and a half hour flight to Dubai.

I can't help thinking of all the wonderful people I have met and try desperately to control my thoughts as we take off into the skies above Kuala Lumpur. It's 02.30hrs and I have been up for 18hrs and I am already dreading the coach trip from Gatwick to Plymouth; but that is still some 22hrs away!! Plenty of time to wrestle with my over active brain which is driving me to distraction with so many memories to deal with.

We arrive safely in Dubai and now there is a four hour wait. I am feeling a bit peckish so I enquire as to how much a cheese roll and coffee would be; £11 is the reply but no change is given in coins if you pay in GBP; so that's £15 then!!! I suggest to the guy serving me what he can do with his cheese roll and long for a dollar snack, Phnom Penh style.

We depart from Dubai for the next leg of the journey; seven and a half hours to London,Gatwick. This goes surprisingly quickly and the plane is only half full so I have three seats to myself; the food once again on Emirates Airlines is first class and the in-house entertainment helps to pass the time.

Gatwick, London 11.55.am, cold, wet, miserable, depressing and now I have to get to Plymouth! It's a quick hop from Gatwick to Heathrow and then a four hour wait for the next coach to Plymouth. I have noticed several advertising boards around Heathrow boasting of the claim to be the busiest airport in the world; well that may be true, but I am at the CENTRAL bus station of the BUSIEST airport in the world and quite frankly it beggars belief.


The seating area is exposed on three sides to the freezing cold wind; there are automatic doors but due to the volume of travellers they are constantly open. There is one small cafe which seats about twenty people and that is the only place that is remotely warm. Given that the majority of travellers have probably just returned from warmer climates it amazes me that there is not a proper heated waiting room at the bus terminal of the busiest airport in the world! Welcome to Heathrow central bus station. To cap it all I am asked to move from the cafe because I have apparently spent too long occupying a seat, having finished my coffee. Michael Douglas, in the film, Falling Down springs to mind, and I am glad I am not carrying a gun. I can't summon the energy to argue with the young oick who takes great relish in suggesting I move on, so I go in search of somewhere warm to wait and that ends up to be at Trerminal 2, quite a hike away but warm and enclosed.


I long for the dirty streets of Phnom Penh, the smiling faces of its' wonderful people and the friendly, jovial service they impart with such selfless charm. There is at least a refreshing reality and pragmatism of the modus operandi in Phnom Penh; they are not bogged down in bureaucratic nonsense and order which is stifling the very soul of this country. Rules, regulations, officialdom and political correctness have created an Orwellian nightmare in the UK and I begin to wonder whether I was caught on camera telling the manager of the cafe to stick his coffee where the sun don't shine!


Am I bitter, twisted, pissed off, opinionated; yes of course I am. i have just come back from a country rife with corruption but the Cambodian's are mere amateurs at it compared to the fat cat movers and shakers here. The recent demise in the banking system is surely one of the most fraudalent and corrupt examples of this. At least in Cambodia the corruption is open, acknowledged and accepted as the norm and no one hides behind the veneer of lies, more lies and stastistics.


I am now on the coach from Heathrow to Plymouth; cold, tired and wishing I was somewhere else. Yes, I am rather sensitive at the moment; yes I am exhausted after a 48hr journey; and yes I do feel like punching someone. Funny, how for the last three months, whilst being amongst some of the poorest people I have ever met, people with little means to feed themselves; funny that I felt calm, collected, happy and content despite the appalling poverty and hardship I witnessed. These people are not channelled in to the narrow minded hypocrisy that our politicians spew forth with monotonous regularity; quite simply there are far more important things for them to deal with. Getting food on the table is number one and caring for their extended family is number two. This is done with a smile, in good spirit and without a word of complaint on a daily basis. There are no crass rules and regulations on how to achieve these aims, but achieve them they do, in a virtually crime free environment and, with that all consuming smile.


We arrive at a motorway services and the driver goes to great lengths to explain that a bottle with a screw top is allowed on board but a styrofoam coffee cup, sealed and with a straw is not; fucking marvellous!! I go to the restaurant and start to read the seven point 'charter' on 'How to order food! Iv'e lost the will to live and get back on the coach, still cold and thirsty.

We arrive at Plymouth's biggest urinal, that is Bretonside bus station where I am met by my father. Welcome back to Great Britain; I think they have got the name wrong. I'm out of here and hopefully, very soon, the UK. See you.


P.S. When I get home there is an email for me from Srey Von; she tells me that her grandfather has died and that she has to sell her mobile phone and work five 14hr days to get enough money to give to her mother, to 'celebrate ' his life. She will have to travel to Prey Veng province, where I spent Christmas day, and take three days unpaid leave. I ring her and she quite simply says; "Don't worry darling, that's how we do things here"................I am missing Cambodia already.