Hookie in Sihanoukville

After three days of hot, dusty, tiring exploration in Angkor Wat, and before Anna-Lisa begins her stint in Phnom Penh, we took a couple days officially doing nothing in the beach town of Sihanoukville on Cambodia's southern coast. We arrived on the weekend to white sand beaches equally full of pink Western tourists in bikinis and wealthier Khmers frolicking fully clothed in the ocean.

Day one we hiked down the beach, where our solitude came at the price of a narrower beach lightly littered with trash. Day two we got lazy and chose a couple lounge chairs closer to all the bamboo restaurants. This luxury was a trade for a constant barrage of women offering to take the hair off your legs with a piece of string, children selling bracelets with their sad eyes, and lady boys demanding to give you a pedicure to make you more beautiful. It was an uncomfortable feeling, lazing in the sun and trying not to watch these people march up and down the beach eking out a living.

Day three we said heck with it, and booked a boat for Bamboo Island. A 45 minute ride took us across the gently swelling Gulf of Thailand to one of the islands sprinkled off the coast, host to a couple restaurants and a row of simple bungalows lined on the white beach. Even while the storm clouds gathered on the mainland and the sound of thunder rolled across the water, we lounged blissfully in the sun. Needless to say, our consciences rested easier with the lack of beggars. Denial can be a powerful thing.