Having bid an emotional adieu to the Cross family after a fantastic ten days on Koh Samui, Forrest and I were dragged kicking and screaming away from the luxury of Six Senses and brought back down to reality with a harsh bump as we wandered around Bophut looking for accommodation more in our price range. We managed to negotiate a wonderful deal with the Carpe Diem staff (whom we had been drinking with a couple of nights previously) and therefore managed to soften our landing with air-conditioning and a pool – not bad going for two poor Gap Yahers! We took a couple of days chillaxing whilst we figured out our next steps; should we extend our Thai visas by a further seven days and check out Koh Phangan or should we bite the bullet and cross over into Cambodia? Our hotel’s name provided us with the very answer and encouragement we needed, and we ‘seized the day’ and began the long trek up towards Bangkok and over the border into Cambodia. Our exciting expedition gave us a new nightly form of transport in replacement of the ubiquitous night bus, this time in the form of a sleeper train, which brought back fond memories of the sleeper trains we took down to the south of France for our wonderful Cross/Melton/Williams summer holidays. Only this time scraggy Enid Blyton paperbacks had been replaced by my shiny new Kindle, and I was lulled to sleep with the aid of over-the-counter sleeping aids rather than my rabbit blankie that was a constant companion when I was seven.
Bangkok’s train station is understandably a travelling hub for many a Gap Yaher, and therefore organising the jump into Cambodia was a process swiftly and efficiently organised and we were ushered into a minivan before we could even say a final ‘Kawp Khun Ka’ to Thailand. The crossing itself was relatively painless, seemingly due to a little harmless bribery, but I was remarkably glad that we had chosen to go as part of an ‘organised’ border crossing as the border was awash with suspicious looking characters and child pickpockets; it was already clear to see that despite the glitzy casinos lining the streets at the border that Cambodia is desperately poor, thus making the scam artists, prostitutes and children begging and stealing a necessity of life rather than the underground seediness of an otherwise affluent country. Cambodian visas obtained, we were then shepherded onto another bus which would take us to Phnom Penh. We arrived late at night, checked in to a hotel and checked out again just as the day was breaking, we were heading to the coast, on a reconnaissance mission for when we would be joined by Edwina and Rick in the following weeks. I hadn’t been aware that there would be such a huge gulf of difference between Thailand and Cambodia in terms of poverty, strife and depravity, I tended to think of the South East Asian countries of being much of a muchness, and lthough we had of course seen glimpses of the ‘third world’ previously during our travels across both South America and South East Asia, my first impressions of Cambodia were that of a country that had been through the wars (both literally and figuratively) and were still battling their way out of the other side. My knowledge of Cambodian history was scarce, or if I am being honest non-existent, but this was to be remedied on our return to Phnom Penh…for now that’s enough of the heavy stuff – onwards to Sihanoukville for beautiful beaches, cocktails and scuba!
Beautiful beaches, cocktails and RAIN. Lots and lots of rain. Our first three days in Sihanoukville consisted of avoiding the downpours by educating Forrest on the wonders of Harry Potter, perfecting puddle jumping in-between restaurants and ordering jacket potatoes on room service. I think we were probably having sympathy symptoms for Louis, who I imagine was probably doing a similar sort of thing in his new home at Blackpool! Our final day in Sihanoukville however made up for the previously rainy and depressing days, as we headed out on a beautifully sunny scuba diving day trip. We were accompanied by two American girls who were working in Phnom Penh for NGO’s, one of whom immediately endeared herself to everyone else on board by declaring herself to be an evangelist and equating the desperately poor fishing village we passed through to get on to the boat to “the stories in the bible with Jesus and the fishermen”. Despite differing religious opinions it was interesting to chat to the girls about Phnom Penh and get some advice about where to take Edwina (although this advice seemed to mainly consist of places to eat!) and Forrest also found time for a heavy debate about the rife corruption in Cambodia and the benefit of NGO’s in third world countries whilst our scuba gear was being set up for us.
It is a well-known fact that it is a dangerous thing to shout ‘DOLPHIN!’ when on a boat as breaking waves are often mistaken for dorsal fins, thus causing the rest of the passenger’s endless disappointment and shame to be brought upon your sea-faring self. As I chatted I thought that I possibly glanced something out of the corner of my eye, but it wasn’t until I was 100% sure that I sounded the cry, and sure enough we had been joined by a pod of dolphins that played around the boat for twenty minutes of pure unadulterated viewing pleasure. My excitement at seeing dolphins is unparalleled, once a keen Whale and Dolphin Conservation Society member and marine biologist wannabe, and my joy was shared with everyone else on board as we watched them swim around and under the boat and leap out of the water with great elegance. All that was missing was Elijah Wood and my dream of being in the movie Flipper could have been realised. Now even more desperate to get in the water, it was painstakingly torturous to have to wait for one of the American girls to go through her safety briefing and skills, as it was clear from the word go that she took to scuba diving like a dolphin would take to riding a bicycle, but we eventually went down and although we didn’t see the dolphins under the water we were joined by a huge tuna who followed us for the entire time we were down. After a delicious lunch on the boat, we went down for our second dive and although the visibility wasn’t great we were able to practise our buoyancy skills under the water and practise using our arms less and therefore using less oxygen and energy. We didn’t see much but we did see lots of bizarre looking Squirrel Fish and Forrest also saw a sting ray as it quickly darted under some coral. Another amazing diving experience, this time as fully fledged scuba divers, was a wonderful conclusion to a somewhat miserable rainy few days, and left us feeling optimistic and excited for the arrival of Edwina the following day!
We arrived back in Phnom Penh in the evening of the next day, after an exhausting and tiresome tuktuk – bus - tuktuk adventure that had two wonderful conclusions; one being that we got to check into a HOTEL rather than a hostel/guesthouse/shack, and the second being that Forrest got to see his mummy! Now seasoned and organised Gap Yahers we arranged for the hotel to take us to meet Edwina at the airport, and although it was of course wonderful to see her, I couldn’t help but notice with jealous bitterness that her tan was already about five times more golden brown than mine, and I realised I was going to have to crack out some serious oil if I was going to be able to compete with her in the tanning stakes. It was great catching up, and Edwina and Forrest also managed to catch the last few minutes of the men’s Wimbledon final back in the hotel, before we all retired for the evening for some much deserved shut eye after our respective transit purgatories (Edwina’s London – Manchester – Dubai – Bangkok – Phnom Penh itinerary barely rivalling our exhausting trip back from the beach).
After a somewhat disappointing breakfast at the hotel, we set about exploring Phnom Penh. First stop on our tour was the Toul Sleng Genocide Museum (S21) as it was located just around the corner from our hotel. As I have already mentioned, my knowledge of Cambodian history was pretty much non-existent, so what followed came as somewhat of a shock. For those of you as ignorant as I, I will provide you with a brief description of S21 as per my Rough Guide, less my own description should fail to correctly explain the atrocities that took place there;
As the Khmer Rouge were starting their reign of terror, Toul Svay Prey Secondary School, in a quiet Phnom Penh neighbourhood…was transformed into a primitive prison and interrogation centre. Corrugated iron and barbed wire were installed around the perimeter, and classrooms were divided into individual cells, or housed rows of prisoners secured by shackles. From 1975 to 1979, an estimated twenty thousand victims were imprisoned in Security Prison 21. Teachers, students, doctors, monks and peasants suspected of anti-revolutionary behaviour were brought here, often with their spouses and children. They were subjected to horrific tortures, and then killed or taken to extermination camps outside the city.
The prison is now a museum and a monument to the thousands of Cambodians who suffered at the hands of the Khmer Rouge. It’s been left almost exactly as it was found by the liberating Vietnamese forces – the fourteen victims found hideously disfigured in the individual cells have been buried in the school playground. It’s a thoroughly depressing sight, and it’s not until you see the pictures of the victims, blood stains on the walls and instruments of torture that you get any idea of the scale of suffering endured by the Cambodian people.
Welcome to Cambodia Edwina! Needless to say her holiday wasn’t off to the best start as our guide took us into the first room and the combination of the stifling heat and the implications of the above (I am not going to go into any further detail) made her feel rather faint and she escaped to the shade of a frangiapani tree outside. I wasn’t far behind as it all got a bit too much for me to handle, but Forrest stuck with it and at the end of the extremely difficult tour learnt that our guide had herself been a victim of the regime; both her parents had been killed and she had been forced to work in the paddy fields. One of the most difficult aspects of the S21 visit for me was the juxtaposition between the high school and the prison, a comparison so unthinkably different that even sitting quietly in the shade in the school playground/graveyard was emotionally trying. A difficult morning indeed, but an essential element of any trip to Cambodia; without this understanding of the suffering at the hands of the Khmer Rouge I don’t believe you would be fully able to appreciate the true beauty, resilience and strength of Cambodia and the Cambodian people.
After regaining our composure back in the air-conditioned lobby of the hotel, we then took a tuktuk to Central Market where, as is always the case with South East Asian markets, the sights, smells and sounds of the stalls were overwhelmingly powerful and interesting. As we wound our way round the maze of glistening jewellery stalls, smelly durian stands and fly-ridden fish baskets, I found the item that I had been searching for my entire life…bottom enhancing underwear for that perfect J-Lo posterior! No longer was my tiny flat bottom going to be the bane of my life, these knickers were the perfect solution (…and then she woke up and it was all a dream.) A well-deserved cocktail was the next item on the menu (I went for the adventurous pineapple and chilli daiquiri – not a wise decision) before we checked out the little bit boring National Museum. Not wanting to overload on Buddha images before Angkor Wat, we didn’t spend very much time here, but it was a pleasant way to while away an hour before lunch. A beautiful lunch of traditional Cambodian cuisine in a tranquil courtyard, however none of us felt brave enough to sample the crispy fried tarantulas on offer!
We spent the rest of the afternoon marvelling at the Royal Palace and Silver Pagoda, although I mainly spent the time sweating and feeling faint as I had been forced to cover up in some heavy orange linen fisherman pants. They claim that this is for religious and cultural reasons but I have a feeling that they just found my wotsit legs to be deeply offensive. After wandering aimlessly alongside the river in search of the delightful sunset riverboat cruises that I had read about, we eventually found a man with a sign advertising what we believed to be an organised tour. In reality, we boarded his own pretty shabby houseboat and he took us on an unguided trip down the river and back again in half an hour. The sunset was hidden by the storm clouds rolling in, and the views weren’t much to behold, but it was interesting to watch his two young children playing and going about their chores, oblivious to the fact that they were providing us with great entertainment. We just about managed to escape the rain as we sought shelter with cocktails at the Foreign Correspondents Club, before heading back to the hotel to change for a pleasant dinner at Frizz.
Edwina got her first taste of Gap Yah travel the following morning on the bus up to Siem Reap, with a “road” so covered in potholes that the bus journey was an experience in itself. We checked in to our beautiful hotel and spent the afternoon relaxing by the pool. That evening we continued with Edwina’s cocktail marathon on the very Cambodian-sounding Pub Street. Somehow Edwina has managed to get through life without ever sampling the wonders of mixing alcohol with delicious arrays of juices, fruits and mixers (this may be a slight exaggeration, I think she has probably sampled a cocktail or two in the past, but you know…artistic license and all that) Obviously I was horrified to discover this and Edwina valiantly accepted the challenge to try as many different cocktails as possible during her GapCambodianYah, and Pub Street served up a tantalising Tequila Sunrise for her. Forrest went for the slightly more clichéd option of the ‘Angelina Jolie Tomb Raider’ cocktail, “apparently” the drink that she drank when she was in Cambodia filming/buying children.
We felt that another relaxing pool day was in order to build up our strength before we began the arduous task of exploring the stunning temples of Angkor, so the next day was spent lounging about in the sun, reading, blogging, swimming and generally doing sweet eff ay. Of course we did manage to rouse ourselves enough from our relaxed reverie to go out for dinner, where we were serenaded by a chorus of croaking frogs whilst we ate. On Thursday it was time for Beatrice Croft to come out to play, although very disappointingly I had been unable to get together Lara’s entire outfit so just had to pretend very hard. We were picked up by our tuktuk driver Mr. Phee, with whom we had managed to organise his services for the day for a very reasonable “phee”, in the morning and he took us to Ta Prohm, otherwise known as the Jungle Temple. Unlike most of the other temples of Angkor, Ta Prohm was never cleared and restored but simply left to the jungle, appearing roughly today as it did to the Europeans who rediscovered the ruins in the nineteenth century. Roots and trunks intermingle with the stones and seem almost part of the structure, creating an almost surreal magical atmosphere. Somewhat spoiled however by the crane and builders working right in the middle of the temple, restoring it to look as though it had not been restored. It really was breathtaking to explore the ruins, but of course the most fun part of all was pretending (in my head of course, don’t want Edwina to think I’m a nutter) that I was Lara Croft. My mission: to avoid Japanese tour groups at all costs whilst simultaneously trying to keep my power levels up despite losing water at a rapid perspiration rate. Level one complete.
The next stop on Mr Phee’s tour of Angkor was Preah Khan, chosen especially by Forrest (who had been given the painstaking task of organising the itinerary for Angkor) due to the fact that the guide book promised that it would be quiet, in the shade and less popular with Japanese tourists than some of it’s more grand temple counterparts. Although it pains me greatly to say it, Forrest had chosen well as we practically had the temple to ourselves, although consequently therefore were easy prey for the guard-cum-guide who came out of nowhere and gave us a guided tour that we were unable to escape from had we wanted to. He did provide us with some valuable insight into the beautiful little temple though, so we were happy to give him a small “donation” at the end of the tour although we weren’t like those “very kind tourists that sometimes are very kind and give $5 or $10”. I think we gave $3. By this time we were templed-out and we weren’t too delighted to find that our loyal Mr Phee wasn’t waiting for us at the other side of the temple as arranged, thus creating a painstaking wait in the sun for him to eventually arrive and take us back to the hotel for a serene afternoon by the pool. Without wanting to sound like a broken record, we again went to Pub Street for a beautiful dinner, where Forrest and I ate a platter of Cambodian dishes wrapped in pretty little banana leaves. Delicious.
After hours of agonising over the guide books, Forrest had decided that there was no way that we were going to be sheep and follow the crowds of tourists, so when Mr Phee picked us up at 4am he was slightly confused when we told him that no, we didn’t want to go and watch the sun rise over Angkor Wat, instead we wanted to go to Phnom Bakheng. The temple world-renowned for its stunning SUNSETS. Poor Phee was still confused when Forrest insisted that that is where we wanted to be that he even tried to explain that the temple wasn’t open yet, but just at that moment a small minibus of Japanese tourists turned up. Never before have I been so happy to see a Japanese tour group, as we had rather stupidly neglected to bring torches so their guide and his flashlight was a welcome addition to our early morning expedition indeed. Although the sunrise wasn’t particularly spectacular, nor were the views over the temples anything to shout home about, being pretty much the only people up there as the day broke was rather mystical and special.
After a quick breakfast, it was time to explore the big one, Angkor Wat itself. We had decided to get a guide to take us around for this magnificent temple; however the guide spent more time telling us about fake guides in and around Angkor than actually telling us about the temple, but he did come in useful in translating Forrest’s fortune, as told by a decrepit looking monk. Basically he was told that he was going to have a wonderful and prosperous life, mainly due to the inclusion of a short dwarf-like girl who would improve his quality of living ten-fold. The Japanese tourists became somewhat of an issue, but I amused myself by attempting to get in to their photos at every given opportunity as Forrest actually became a Japanese tourist and viewed Angkor Wat through his Lumix rather than through his eyes. Having said that rather scathingly, his photographic persistence did pay off as he succeeded in getting a pretty wonderful shot. Before we lost interest completely in the temple, I enthralled Edwina and Forrest with my own guided tour of the Bas Reliefs lining the walls around the temple as we played our own version of “Where’s Wally?”, trying to find the various images of Shiva, Vishnu and co. in the faded stonework.
One final temple on the itinerary was preceded by an unplanned stop for Forrest to play with some monkeys by the side of the road. Not content with simply taking photographs from afar, Forrest re-enacted Sir David’s Attenborough’s crowning moment with the gorillas as he became one with the monkeys, feeding them fruit and letting them clamber all over him. Edwina and I waited patiently for him in the tuktuk whilst he rolled about in the grass with his predecessors. Angkor Thom was my second favourite temple after the Jungle Temple, with the 216 faces carved out of stone smiling down on me. They seemed to be saying “you were an excellent Lara Croft Bea, much better than that other woman. The one who stole poor Jennifer’s husband”, and I couldn’t agree more. But even Beatrice Croft needs to take a break from tomb raiding every now and again, and we headed back to the hotel to our beautiful pool. That evening we met up with Rachael and Tommy at the Mexican restaurant, who were now in Cambodia teaching at a school in Siem Reap. Edwina’s cocktail marathon continued with margaritas, and when Rachael discovered that Edwina had never done a shot before, it wasn’t long until tequila slammers had been placed in front of us all and Edwina was being given a lesson in salt, tequila, lime…when in Mexico…!
Our educating Edwina in the delights of alcohol of course comes with the dark side of the booze, the pain and suffering the morning after. Edwina and Forrest however seemed to be remarkably fine, whilst I was dying inside (both literally and figuratively – I didn’t leave the hotel room all day). Looking back I think it must have been something I’d eaten. The food in some of these Gap Yah countries can play havoc with ones insides. It couldn’t just have been a 24 hour hangover surely?! Whilst I suffered in silence, Forrest and Edwina spent the day by the pool before going to the floating village in the evening, which turned out to be a slight farce and a scam and luckily it didn’t appear that I’d missed much on our last night in Siem Reap.
Travelling back down to Phnom Penh, to pick up Rick from the airport, was again an adventure, only witnessing one motorbike collision so therefore an outright success! Slightly worried about Rick’s ability to adjust to the decrepit Gap Yah lifestyle, his usual vacation jaunts being to the glitzy streets of Las Vegas to party with 50 Cent and Flloyd Mayweather, we had organised a driver to take us down to Sihanoukville. Not quite the chauffeur-driven stretch hummers that Rick is accustomed to but still a darn sight more appealing than a six hour bus ride on top of his already horrifically long travel itinerary. It was wonderful to greet Rick at the airport, although as with the jealousy of Edwina’s tan upon her arrival, I was horrified to find Rick looking thin without even trying to get dysentery by eating at shabby dirty roadside stands. I planned to fatten him up significantly while he was in Cambodia. We arrived at the coast in good time, and wasted no time at all getting ready and meeting in the bar for pre-dinner drinks. I had been looking forward to having someone of a similarly low intellect to myself arriving so that I would have someone to bitch, gossip and moan with whilst the cleverclogs’ discussed the less important things in life like the economy, politics and world events. So you can imagine my dismay when I got to the bar to find the three of them enthralled in some silly sporting event watching cars zoom around a ring or something. It transpires though that Rick was only biding his time until his gossip buddy was there though as I deftly deferred his attention away from Silverstone and to gossip from home. Once the car thing was over we headed down to Serendipity Beach for an enchanting seafood barbeque right next to the breaking waves, where it was a joy to watch Forrest reunited with his mummy and brother. The tomb-raiders amongst us were exhausted after being on holiday for a week already, so much to Rick’s dismay the evening ended far far too early for his liking. I had a sneaky suspicion that for Rick it wasn’t yet over, and after a quick briefing over the perils of Cambodian “taxi-girls”, and reminded him that unlike in Vegas prostitution wasn’t legal here, we went to bed and left him to his own devices, eager to explore Danish culture. Did I say Danish? Sorry I meant Cambodian.
After we eventually roused the Forrest boys we headed to the boat that would take us to Koh Rong Saloem, a tropical island off the coast of Cambodia. The boat ride only took a couple of hours but poor Rick managed to play the English man perfectly, burning terribly on one arm and shoulder before even arriving at his holiday destination. Oh how Forrest laughed at his tan-less brother as he soaked up the sun glistening off his golden brown body. The boat docked at the opposite side of the island to where we were staying as the water there was much calmer, and we had to wade to the shore through warm tropical waters to the white gleaming sand was waiting for us. A ten-minute walk through the jungle brought us to our home for the next five days, the wonderful Lazy Beach. English and Cambodian owned, Lazy Beach consists of nothing more than a handful of wooden bungalows lining the beach and a restaurant/bar/chill out area... with nothing to do but relax and enjoy each other’s company and our beautiful surroundings, Lazy Beach couldn’t have been more aptly named.
Five blissfully chilled days all merged in to one long game of Canadian Rummy. Our little quartet was also punctuated with the other few guests staying at Lazy Beach, and late evenings after Edwina had retired were spent propping up the bar with Lyndsey, Travis and Kate. It is difficult to find fault with paradise, but as I have said before there is normally something that provides that little niggle, without which everything would perfect. With Ayers Rock it was the plague of flies, with Lazy Beach it was Rick. No only joking, after not seeing him for so long, even Rick’s presence was less of an annoyance than the litter that washed up daily on the beach, spoiling the raw natural beauty of the island. I of course managed to cope, afterall finding a five foot three (ok ok, five foot two) space of beach isn’t too difficult, but for the tall Forrest/Labey contingency it proved to be more of an issue. Actually I think it was more of an environmental issue, but more about that in Edwina’s Epilogue to come…
I could quite easily spend a lot of time making you all jealous, writing about how we executed our time at Lazy Beach with the perfect relaxed nothingness, but it’s not that important that you know that every day we woke whenever we felt like it, strolled to breakfast along the beautiful beach, read, played games, swam to our heart’s content, ate the freshest seafood known to man daily, sampled some fine Khymer cuisine, drank copious amounts of cocktails (Edwina had done extremely well in her challenge!), watched huge geckos and frogs go about their business (quite literally in the case of the frogs – see photos for more details!) and generally lived the dream. I imagine the only snag of our time there was my constant outstanding performances in Canadian Rummy, despite being the only one in the game that couldn’t count their own cards. Rick “I play poker in Vegas with the big boys” Forrest seemed to be happy playing second fiddle to my winning streak, whilst his brother’s mind has quite obviously been frazzled after six months of travelling, losing one game with an outstanding score of over 500.
It wasn’t easy leaving Lazy Beach (especially with the hangover that was banging around in my head), and it was made even more so knowing that we would be saying farewell to Edwina and Rick the following day. The drive back up to Phnom Penh was much less chatty than the drive down, but our last evening was spent both being charitable and eating good food – at the NGO restaurant Friends, which provides training, work and hope for local Cambodians, as well as serving up yummy grub. One last game of Canadian Rummy was on the cards (!) before bed, as Edwina and Rick weren’t the only ones leaving the next day – we had an early morning flight to catch, back to Thailand for our LADS holiday on Koh Phangan. Forrest, Rick and I presented Edwina with a Cambodian cookbook to thank her for her wonderful generosity and a fantastic holiday, so although we were sad to say goodbye we were already looking forward to our next holiday in Jersey where we expect to be served the BEST fish amok, pineapple and chilli daiquiris and of course, the infamous crispy fried tarantulas.
Forrest's Fankyou…
Once again, I would like to say a big big big fankyou to mother Forrest (or is it mother Labey these days?!) and Rick for providing two wondrous two weeks of temple hopping, city dwelling and laid-back beach life. And finally, I would like to add a small correction to the text above; Bea, F1 cars do not drive around a ring, you’re getting confused with Nascar racing my dear.
Edwina's Epilogue...
What a fantastic time we had in Cambodia, so nice to have a family holiday with Mark (aka Forrest), Bea and Richard. Peter (my husband) sensibly decided to stay at home in Jersey, being outnumbered by three Forrests meant he was unlikely to get a look in!
Cambodia turned out to be a huge surprise to me, much more sophisticated than I ever imagined, with excellent hotels at a fraction of what you pay in the UK, great food and so much more.
Phnom Penh was a lovely city, however the Torture Museum proved a little too much for me, I know it’s an important part of their history and we need to know about the horrors of Pol Pot, but I’m old enough to remember it all and it was very difficult not be overcome by it all.
The temples of Siem Reap were outstanding; we were also blessed with good weather here.
Out trip to the island of Koh Rung Saloem was great, although I did miss the air conditioning and I now understand what they mean by the rainy season! There were two stunning beaches......however one was ruined by the copious and I mean copious amounts of litter washed up each and every day. On a stretch of beach two football pitches long, you could have easily have filled at least 25 bin bags full of rubbish. We were told the boats just throw everything overboard, do these countries not realise that if nothing is done they will kill tourism in this part of the world? As you can probably tell, I get quite irate about litter!
Apart from this we had a great time, we played lots of Canadian Rummy (can I buy that card?) and enjoyed each other’s company.
Rick's Resume...
Following a 23 hour journey from Manchester to phnom penh it was all worth it after seeing those I hold closest at the airport. It was also nice to see Beatrice. An enjoyable taxi ride was spent catching up before arriving at our hotel for the night. After food, beer and wine I was disappointed to learn I was the only one "up" for a night out. Nevertheless an enjoyable night out by myself followed. A cambodian club named utopia providing the highlight....comfortably beating the Blackburn equivalent which I spent far too much time frequenting as a nipper.
The next morning a two hour boat journey to lazybeach, our home for the week, was spent with further catching up and getting sun burnt. I was expecting clear water and white sand and I was not disappointed. Lazybeach was a million miles away from the 100mph lifestyle back home and we all had a great week. It was during this week that I devised my optimum strategy for winning Canadian rummy. My book is due out later this year.
The week went far too fast and I was sad to leave the great gandolf and miss cross although I knew they would be home soon. Great food, great company and great memories.
This made me cry........Come home soon xxxxxx
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