There’s a really mysterious note on my 8 February 2001 page, regarding an encounter in a restaurant in Phnom Penh.
This is what I wrote:
…take a taxi to Le Royal for yards of beer and then Laguna Restaurant for duck soup, steamed fish, chinese broccoli and rice. Met “Nigel”, a Greek from Notting Hill who owns the place and whose sister is about to marry into the royal family – remember where you heard it first!
Intriguing, but sadly I have no recollection at all of the encounter with “Nigel”. Janie similarly can only recall the yard of beer at Le Royal, drawing a total blank for the second part of the evening.
So if anyone out there who knows/remembers Laguna, Nigel and/or his royalty-bound sister stumbles across this piece, please leave a comment with more details and put us out of our misery.
The only photographic evidence we have of the entire evening is the yard of ale photo (above).
At one time, I thought the following photos were sunset pictures from Le Royal, but they are actually sunrise photos taken from our room in the Sofitel Cambodiana the next morning:
View from Le Royal Sofitel CambodianaImpressionistic View From Le Royal Sofitel Cambodiana
The Day Did Not Start Well – Chaos On Departure From Seam Reap
My log entry for this trip leaves the reader in no doubt as to how I felt:
Rose unspeakably early to catch ferry boat to Phnom Penh. Ghastly boat – cramped and uncomfortable in every way. The journey takes five hours. Get off feeling giddy and odd. Met by guide Weng who takes us to hotel.
We went in one of these monstrositiesThe pictures do not suggest that I was suffering quite as much as the words…
Just before we arrive at the Phnom Penh dock – even more chaotic than that at Seam Reap
Daisy’s main memory of this trip, apart from my deteriorating mood, is the chaos on arrival at Phnom Penh. We struggled to find our guide in the crowds. I insisted that we should find him to get help with our voluminous baggage, not least because the plank we had to walk to get off the boat was precarious to say the least – see the image at the top of the page, where said plank can be seen at the bottom of the photo.
Meanwhile, Daisy observed some of the locals stacking several bags on their heads to get them to dry land/relative safety and decided to emulate that method while I went off to find Weng. Or did Daisy “depend on the kindness of strangers” to help her with the baggage?
Neither of us can remember those details. Still, somehow, all of us and all of our baggage came out of the experience dry, united and in one piece.
We have a light lunch of soup full of stuff, then go off touring Phnom Penh…
…First stop, The National Museum, then back to the hotel to sort out problem over airline tickets. Then Monument Books for great cookbooks. Then Central Market (not so interesting). Then to Tuol Sleng Museum (harrowing).
No, not our hotel in Phnom Penh; harrowing scenes at the Tuol Sleng Holocaust Museum
Prompt finish – then wash change and take taxi to La Royal…
…but as is often our wont, we had a mind to change the itinerary a bit once we got to Cambodia. After all, that’s what independent travel is all about.
We loved our time looking around the Siem Reap/Angkor sites, but two days of doing that was enough for us. Meanwhile, I had read one or two articles before we left home about sites reasonably near Siem Reap that were just starting to open up for tourism post war. We fancied exploring one or two of those.
It is normally quite easy to make such arrangements. I am very understanding that such changes are in effect requests for additional touring and I expect to pay the going rate for such additional tours.
On 5th and 6th February, I explained all that to our guide, Khouch, encouraging him to call his head office and make arrangements for us to visit some more remote sites on 7th February. Khouch was most reluctant. He seemed to think it reflected badly on him or on the itinerary that had been prepared for us in advance.
At one point, I even had to ask him to let me speak with his boss myself, directly, to explain how extremely satisfied we were and how much more extremely satisfied we would be if they would take quite a lot of money from me and arrange a more remote touring day for 7th.
Our photos for those first few days are in this album – click here, the first 58 being Siem Reap/Angkor 5th and 6th February, the rest being that amazing off piste touring day on 7th.
We set off later than intended, as Khouch had some difficulty getting the tickets/permits required for the trip. We also made very slow progress along the “road” (see photo above), with driver Guon (Janie called him “Goon”) managing 3 to 5 kph because he was so fearful of punctures.
Phnom Kulen Waterfall
Phnom Kulen was, as I describe it in my log:
…a bit of a local circus with a reclining Buddha & a monk & some large stones. We go on to the waterfall where locals eat and swim…
To some extent we were in search of lingas, but needed to go on to Kbal Spean to see those. There we had to hire a local guide. The local guides are all retired/reformed Khmer Rouge geezers, who don’t speak English but that’s OK because at least Khouch can earn his corn translating for us.
Janie with our local guide at Kbal Spean
The translation is quite important. Not because we needed to be told what lingas look like, but we did need to be told to stick strictly to the path because no-one has yet got around to clearing landmines from the undergrowth either side of the path.
“If you want a pee, wait until we get back or if necessary pee on the path, but don’t wander into the bushes to have a pee anywhere around here”, translated Khouch, most usefully.
In short, off piste is only a good idea up to a point.
A safe space to see the lingas
The Khmer chaps had cleared some tracks through to see the splendid lingas, which Janie can be seen (above) observing with great interest.
Then on to Banteay Srei, a really beautiful old temple well worth exploring:
A wonderful ruined temple but all Janie cares about is feet
We let Khouch and Goun know that we were very happy, but somehow it seems that doubts remained at the agency about our unusual request.
Aftermath – Dinner 10 February in Ponlok Restaurant
For our last night in Cambodia, in Phnom Penh 10 February, we had arranged to eat at Ponlok restaurant, now defunct but described by Conde Nast Traveller as:
PONLOK RESTAURANT
319-323 Sisowath Quay, Phnom Penh (00 855 23 212 025). For upmarket Khmer cuisine, this is one of the best places around…
I got a call from the agency saying that the manager of the agency wanted to meet us there. He was an Englishman who seemed to have been taken from central casting of a Somerset Maugham TV series. He insisted on treating us to our feast and wanted to make absolutely sure that we were happy, because we had changed our itinerary in Siem Reap and our guide was concerned that we might not be satisfied customers.
I explained that we had no complaint at all, other than mild irritation at the difficulty we had persuading Khouch that our request for flexibility was built on satisfaction rather than dissatisfaction. The manager explained that more or less all of the guides were very nervous and quite incapable of making decisions. This was probably because they were all relatively young and had all had severely traumatic childhoods. Understandable.
Hello, Mr Frog
Ponlok Restaurant along riverfront – tried soup, frogs legs in ginger, marinated pork, chicken in Cambodian spice & morning glory. Stuffed. Stuffed. We enjoyed the walk back.
The other thing Janie and I remember about this meal was the noisy, dripping air conditioning unit above us, which made us feel very nervous and decreasingly hungry, while the manager chap talked for England and Cambodia at far greater length than was necessary. We’d have been happier to have paid for our own dinner and to have dined in peace, but there you go.
…lunch at Sampheap Restaurant. Tried chicken curry and coconut, fish soup (sour) water convulvus, grilled fish and rice.
Then home for siesta before setting off for “grand circuit” temples.
Drove past Prasat Kravan and on past Banteay Kdei and Srah Srang before stopping at Pre Rup.
Angles on Pre Rup
Also stopped to glance around East Mebon.
East Mebon (…North Mebon, West Mebon, Ealing Broadway…I’m getting lost again!)
Ignored Tra Som but took in Preah Neak Poan and Preah Khan.
Preah Neak PoanPreah Khan – stunning.
Did the mandatory Phnom Bakheng routine at sunset – Daisy going all the way to the top of the temple. Ged staying at the top of the mountain but not the temple.
Everybody who was anybody does Phnom Bakheng at sunset
Went round afterwards to sort out currency and try to get “passes” for tomorrow’s adventure – no joy.
The tale of our setting up of the 7 February adventure is rather strange one, but it says much about the prevailing issues and culture in Cambodia still in 2001.
Janie and I had identified, from a magazine article, a fascinating-looking day trip out of Siem Reap, which looked far more interesting to us than “yet another day looking at temples”. We discussed it with our Steppes East agent, who had alerted the local agent that we might want to do that, depending on the extent to which we were “templed out” after our first couple of days. Some people feel the need to take it easy the first two days and are grateful for more time around Siem Reap itself.
I knew that I would need to pay a supplement locally if we chose the extra excursion, of course.
Our local guide, Khouch, seemed almost distraught at the suggestion that he call his office in Phnom Penh and arrange the trip for us. He explained that it was somewhat off piste, so we would need to engage a local qualified guide when we got there. We knew that. Khouch explained that such journeys were hard on the vehicle, so the price for the extra road journey would be high. We knew that.
It became clear to us that, in Khouch’s mind, our request to vary the itinerary was a form of complaint about the arrangements we had pre-made, which it absolutely wasn’t. We had considered varying the arrangements in advance and been advised to vary them when we got to Cambodia for practical reasons.
We virtually had to drag him to the phone to call the office and have me agree to the “staggering” day trip fee (I think it was $150 or something like that for the two of us) with Khouch’s boss.
We got there in the end, but even at the end of our trip the head of the agency came to see us because he had been alerted by Khouch that we were unhappy about something…which we weren’t.
The agency head explained to us that young men like Khouch, who had been brought up in the time of terror, are very reluctant to take initiative and are very nervous that they might fall foul of authority, even in benign circumstances like ours.
I mean, could I possibly come across as THAT scary?
The thought of flying through the night, losing seven hours in the process and still getting up and touring hard the next day would be inconceivable for us now. But 25 years ago (as I write in early 2026) that is exactly what we did.
…then [we] go off to tour Angkor Wat.
Cover whole complex in a great deal of detail.
Dig the Naga features.There’s nothing like tits and bums sculptures to up the visitor rate at a site like Angkor Wat – in the same way, such photos up the click rate on a web site like OgblogUp and up we went.Intrepid – that’s the word for climbing explorers like me. Iantrepid even.The site at twighlight.
Daisy struggled to get the difference between Angkor Wat the temple and the rest of the old City complex!
I don’t suppose Daisy’s new biker boy friends explained it to her either.
[We] go to souvenir shop and then on to market before we realised how tired we were.
As usual, Daisy (Janie) got some superb market photos
Back to hotel for a splendid meal of mixed delights and early night.
Now, 25 years on, it is time to complete the Ogblogging of this wonderful trip. This page is NOT a highlight. But the following pages, touring the wonders of Cambodia (not least the well-toured Angkor Wat and several other lesser visited places) most certainly are highlights.
4 February 2001 – left London 9 am – by 3:30 am London time the next day we were in Siem Reap! Event free journey – almost pleasant.
5th February 2001 – our guide Khouch drops us at Sofitel – we sleep a while – then we go off to tour.
Janie and I were running around like nuts working that week, ahead of our trip to Cambodia, Laos and Thailand.
Janie’s diary notes a brief visit to Auntie Francis in the St John & St Elizabeth Hospital a few days before she died. I think Janie made that visit solo, as I do not recall it.
My diary page for the relevant week is missing. I think I took it out of the Filofax on the funeral day with the relevant details scribbled on it and never returned the page to the diary. Very rare error from me, that.
But for sure I went to that funeral, as I recall it for three particular things that are ingrained in my meomory.
The first of those things was the rejigging that I had to do in order to attend. I had an important meeting scheduled with a difficult client, which I needed to reschedule quite late in the day in order to attend the funeral and visit the client. I got the logistics of that right, just about, and received sympathy and gratitude from the client at my obvious efforts to fit everything in, rather than the annoyance I half expected from them at the resulting need for a late in the day meeting.
The second of my memories relates to the minutes before…and just after…the start of the funeral. I got to Cheshunt with a good 20-30 minutes to spare. I mean, you don’t get to funerals late, do you?
But there were no signs of Mum, Dad, Michael and Pam as the funeral hour approached. The funeral started. Still no sign of them.
I was a little worried that something might have happened to them. Only a little worried, because I remembered mum telling me that they would be coming as a family pack, via Pam & Michael’s place.
About 10 minutes into the funeral, all four of them sneaked in at the back. Mum had a mixture of embarrassed face and angry face. There ought to be an emoji for such a face. Dad had flustered face. Michael and Pam looked…like Michael and Pam.
Pam and Michael, seemingly unbothered, August 1975
Precise timings isn’t really what Pam’s about.
The other thing I so clearly remember about that funeral is the “stock eulogy” that the Rabbi delivered in honour of Auntie Francis. After the standard facts list of dates (birth, marriage, my cousin Angela’s birth)…the Rabbi eulogised about the kind, gentle, warm-hearted mother that stock eulogies are all about.
I cannot have been the only person in the funeral hall who was thinking, “this doesn’t sound like Auntie Francis”, who was, bless her, a tough old bird, for whom the phrase, “on the lung, on the tongue” might have been written. She was one of only two or three people I ever met who induced fear in my mother.
At one point, Angela was struggling to keep a straight face during the eulogy, which made it even harder for me (and probably several others) to maintain our composure as well.
I resolved there and then to ensure that, in any situation where I had some influence over the funeral proceedings, that stock eulogies delivered by someone who didn’t know the deceased would be off the menu.
Writing 25 years later, I have only recently delivered what I think might be the most challenging eulogy I’ll ever have to make – eulogising Auntie Francis (who had endearing as well as challenging qualities) would be have been a doddle compared with the perils of Pauline:
On the Friday – 2 February, Janie and I had dinner with Kim & Micky at Monty’s Nepalese Restaurant in Ealing – thus spake Janie’s diary. My page is missing in action, remember?
Did the play still have what it takes, nearly 40 years on? Michael Billington certainly thought so. Janie wasn’t so sure – she’s never been convinced by Orton. I thought this one worked better than the revival of What the Butler Saw at the National, which I recall disappointed me, so I didn’t find it dated; but Tom Keatinge did.
But who cares – I’ve seen the play now and mum couldn’t stop me this time.
On the Friday evening, we saw Feelgood. We would have eaten at Harry Morgans before the show. I remember this play having a superb cast: Jeremy Swift, Henry Goodman, Amita Dhiri, Nigel Planer, Pearce Quigley, Sian Thomas, Nigel Cooke and Jonathan Cullen (according to my log), and being lots of fun. Max Stafford-Clark directed it. It transferred to the Garrick with a slightly different cast – Peter Capaldi taking Jeremy Swift’s place. Here’s the Theatricalia entry for that one.
Nicholas de Jongh really liked it in The Standard, especially heaping praise on Henry Goodman’s performance:
Billington concludes that article with a statement that seems oh so apposite as I write 25 years later:
…theatre is a place of information as well as entertainment and the more it cuts itself off from society – and relies on a mixture of anodyne musicals and Hollywood-star casting, the more it is doomed to glamorous irrelevance.
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