Life is a beach
We arrived in Sihanoukville by bus in the early morning hours in a downpour. The bus driver unloaded our luggage into a puddle while tuktuk drivers argued over who had the right to take the tourist to the far reaches of Otres2 beach and squeeze every dime out of them. Loading our wet backpacks into the taxi we started down the potholed, rain soaked road and we were aghast at the garbage strewn ditches that lined the way. The bungalows we had rented were tiny worn out places at the farthest end of Otres beach supposedly a 30 second walk to the ocean but it had been raining for 6 days in a row and the short walk to the beach involved walking through red clinging mud knee deep. Our Australian friends who had stopped in Phnom Penh to see the killing fields were due to arrive later that day and we didn't look forward to explaining that our choice for a rest up was a disaster. The deck behind the bungalows right on the river Note the BBQ where we would cook e...