A gritty little town called Battambang

A town like a lot of little towns in Cambodia. A sticky bitumen strip running down the middle, crowded on both sides by shops selling all manner of goods and services. A couple of blocks back is the river, where sweaty seafood restaurants compete for priority along the muddy banks. The smoky smell of charcoal roasted seafood fills the air. Away from the river, the network of bitumen quickly gives way to dusty earth.

The hotel we stay at looks like a scene from a 60's movie - cracked walls and flaking paint, a creaky door and a leaky toilet. The fan sounds like a Cessna on takeoff, and has built up an evil wobble which threatens to detach it from the ceiling. This room could tell some stories, I'll bet.

Battambang was Khmer Rouge heartland during their heyday, and remnants remain if you look hard enough. One of the local tourist sites is a mountain packed to the hilt with Buddha statues and monuments. According to locals, the mountain also boasts a network of caves where Khmer Rouge undertook executions. I can't resist the urge to explore some caves we happen upon, and make a grizzly discovery - a pile of human bones - instantly sending shivers up my spine. I emerge from the cave sweaty and agitated, my mind awash with images of writhing torture and pain. Once again, I find it hard to understand how pure ideas can generate such wicked actions. Can hate ever spawn a positive outcome?

I think my experience in the caves has tipped me over the edge, and I'm glad to see Battambang disappear in the distance. I really enjoyed my time in Cambodia - the people are amazingly friendly and kind, considering their recent history. Nonetheless, as we hurtle towards Poipet and the Thailand border, I'm glad to be heading back in the land of smiles. Next stop, Bangkok.