Battembang (Northwest Cambodia). Today is a very special day because it is my Mum's birthday! Hope you had a good day Mum, even though it is long gone by now!

Anyway: Cambodia. In my small-minded tourist way I had mentally clubbed together VietnamandCambodiaandLaos as if they were all the same, and already I am wonderfully proved wrong.

My weekend in Phnom Penh was an eye-opener. I only lasted one night in the wobbly wooden hut - the whole thing bounced when anyone moved and so I didn't get a great deal of sleep - before moving myself and The Bag (on a motorbike which was a tad precarious) to a more central and more sensible guesthouse. From there I negotiated the main sights, a lot of which dealt with the horrific years of the Khymer Rouge and the murderous Pol Pot.

I visited the infamous prison S-21, where 20,000 people were kept and tortured, and Choeung Ek, the killing fields where over 8,000 bodies were discovered in the late 1970s. I knew little about Cambodia's sad history and I have to say I found it incredibly shocking. Nearly a third of the population died, either through brutal execution (for being an intellectual or a foreigner or for coming from the city) or starvation. It is endlessly terrifying what people can do to one another, and I can't look at anyone over the age of 30 without being chilled by what they must have gone through.

My time in Phnom Penh also involved large amounts of rain; rain that lashed down endlessly, filling up the roads and sending the traffic into meltdown. Sadly it didn't dampen the enthusiasm of the motorbikers, who constantly badgered me with "Hey Lady, you want moto?" with every step I took and I will be honest, after 48-hours, my English politeness was sorely tested. No THANK you.

So all in all I was ready to bounce out of PP on a bus packed with locals while the TV blared out cheesy Karaoke and the bus driver tooted constantly. It was quite a merry trip, with the driver pulling over sporadically so we could all relieve ourselves en masse by the roadside and the frequent stops at wooden food stalls where everyone loaded up on boiled eggs on sticks, baguettes and curious things in banana leaf (turns out it was hot grilled banana encased in sticky rice...very yum).

The countryside was just stunning. Lush green paddy fields dotted with workers and thin cows pulling ploughs; rickety wooden stilt-houses with hammocks swinging beneath and children playing. I just couldn't get enough of it! I am just fascinated by the way in which these people live their lives, so far removed from my own life in Bucks.

And now I am in Battambang, a little city in the northwest which is sleepy and charming after PP: I had to rouse the man in my guesthouse from his slumber to enquire about a room! The tourist spots and few and far between and the locals go about their business, buying fruit and veg and writhing fish from the squat market and loading their children onto motorbikes to get them to school (I saw a man with 4 children on his!). A few kilometres outside the city and all structures return to wood and corrogated iron, with the people toiling on the land and bumping along the pot-holed roads in tractors piled high with smiling and waving passengers.

The weather has been hot and sunny and I have mooched around, feeling the chaos of PP ease out of me as I wander the streets, or sit slurping a 30p fruit smoothie in one of the few cafes. Marvellous!

But tomorrow it is onwards again: 6 hours in a boat will take me up to Siam Reap to re-embrace the tourist world! The boat trip is supposed to be the most beautiful in Cambodia so I am keeping my fingers crossed that the rain stays away. We shall see!

Siam Reap (Northwest Cambodia). As you may recall, I had a little moan during my time in Phnom Penh about the constant badgering from locals. There was me thinking that was bad. From the minute the boat chugged into SR (Siam Reap) I have ceased to be a person: I am a walking cash machine.

Everything you might ever want/need/fancy/accidentally glance at is waggled constantly in your face accompanied by a whiny voice "Lady you buuuuuy, good price for you..." Sometimes, they spot you from 100metres away and start screaming, desperately trying to compete with the twenty other people next to them selling identical things. Laaaiddiiiiiieeee. When it's 36 degrees and it has been the millionth time that day it is slightly maddening, but later when I am comfy in my guesthouse I feel sad at the poverty that lurks behind this desperation.

SR is very much in the grip of tourism. It is a pretty and rather charming place, although a few too many burger restaurants and 'boom boom room' bars for my liking, and the central hub seems to have sold out some of its character in favour of catering to tourists'every whim.

The big pull is Angkor Wat and the vast number of temples and buildings of the ancient Angkor city which lurk in a beautiful area of forests and lakes a few kilometres outside the city. And my goodness what a place! It didn't smack me in the face with goosebumps like the Great Wall and Red Square, but more crept up on me gradually, with each new incredible vista pushing the awe count up and up and up. The temples are amazing feats of architecture and the intricate carvings coupled with the towering heights just take your breath away.

My favourite so far is Ta Prohm (Tomb Raider was filmed here Jolie fans!) which is famous for being swamped by fat tree roots that have fought their way through the walls and rooves of this lovely temple. Some of the stone has lost the battle, piled high in great heaps, while other pieces stand firm, strangled and surrounded by the slithering roots. The fusion of man's creation and natures' strength is a real sight to behold.

So I have been templing myself out during the long hot days, before dithering over dinner (there is far too much choice) and snuggling under my mosquito net to dream of Indiana Jones - you feel like you have stumbled into Raiders of the Lost Ark at some of these temples! This will be the theme of the next few days while I await my Laos visa and plan my onward travels.

And speaking of travels, the boat journey from Battambang to SR was one of the best journeys since the grand days of the trains. It was 7 hours on a covered wooden boat that took us up past floating villages that bob on bamboo-rafts along the water way. The kiddies wave furiously and launch themselves merrily into the water, while their mothers eye us quietly in the shadow of their wooden houses (note the DVD player in the corner).

Some of the stretches of the river were so narrow that curtains were hastily pulled down to prevent the branches and bushes scratching us as we pushed through the undergrowth. (Although the Americans infront of me kept pulling up the curtain in their eagerness for photos and I took a few woody slaps).

It was relaxing and picturesque and an oasis of calm before the madness of arrival, when frenzied tuktuk drivers threw themselves onto the boat to beg our custom. Thankfully I had a pre-arranged driver; I have never been so pleased to see MR SARAH REES on a little paper sign before!