Mikes Thoughts

going home and more

Here we have our morning in Sihanoukville at the bus and transit station. From here it’s 3 hours on a toll road to Phnom Penh. Then we go another 5 or so to Siem Reap.

Did not write here as much as I had wanted. Seems I got here an found myself really not wanting to say things about the trip. I did take some photos of this and that. Here’s the Google photo album of things. Some thing were nice. I enjoyed the walks a lot. Yesterday we did beach and beer time which was very enjoyable. Otres beach is an every person beach. There’s no real way to enjoy besides going and doing whatever it is one finds their best. For us it was freshly bbq seafood and cans of Cambodia beer. Then swimming in this wonderful stretch of the kilometer long beach that felt ours. The water is this cooler temperature. In the heat of a day it feels like an amazing yet subdued counterpart to the warm winds. Playing in the water seems fun and even turbulent as the undertow grabs and wants to pull deeper. I just loved all of its moods. The push and pull. The feeling of being alone. Yet surrounded by its warmth and teasing.

Riding home and then some

This probably was an imminently forgettable trip. I go more places and see more people because others want it so. Places that mean something else to me seem to slide by. This family member comes in March. Another leaves to work. A minivan ride home gives me time between now and then. Like being suspended in this AC bubble. Finding I guess complacency and doubt that all the things lately I’ve done for others has meant something I can hold up to myself on the ride.

The music too. Some Goo Goo Dolls. Some others and miles slide by. It’s this ride and more. I remember riding the Amtrak train once across the United States. Finding my sleeper with its window looking out one cold morning at Montana. It was like this sky stretched out to infinity. The conductor told me good morning and welcome to big sky country. I remember that soulful meander. That feeling out there was something. That the little train tracks were just a piece of civilization and the rest was primitive.

It’s enough to jerk me back to my reality. This van. This movement. Feeling good I survived another friends of my wife endeavor. A call from a barang acquaintance. A birthday party at a particular bar coming up. They want to get the bigger expat community to join in and welcome J to his 70th year. It’s like a thing I only think on. I don’t know J well. If at all.

Closing down

That’s it I fear. My going home and then some has traveled it’s rails and roads. I’m done.