This day last year an airplane spit us out in Bangkok. We weren’t sure how we felt about Asia. It was hot, it was sticky and I saw a rat within my first ten minutes. It took all the strength I could muster (which was a lot cos I’d been carrying some really heavy luggage) not to hightail it back to the airport. Let’s just say there were more than a few tears shed in a skybar that was full of screaming kids, smelled like popcorn and charged for the view in the price of a cocktail.

Arriving in Siem Reap was the first time I knew we’d made the right decision. Like so many people who pass through and never leave, it instantly felt like home. (I swear that has nothing to do with the $1 tacos we discovered on our first night in town). A large part of that was down to the blooming wonderful people we’ve met here.

While we’ve still another few while to go yet, this week sees us say farewell to our little gang of pals that have been with us since the start. Mike, Nat, Lucy, Richard and Miranda have been an enduring force of drinking buddies, mani-pedi partners, sounding boards and cheerleaders.

Among floods and mossie bites, homesickness and culture shock they were the dollop of familiarity we needed; a constant reminder of why we we’re all here, and why a dash to the airport was never an option.

I have little doubt that our paths will cross again, but until then guys…thanks for the memories.


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