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We had a very calming and tranquil morning today, spending time lazing by the pool. It felt good to finally relax and have some down time. We have travelled extensively over the last few weeks and I am personally feeling rather drained; a few hours in the beautiful tropical gardens of our hotel was just what the Doctor ordered. Just us, an old overweight white man and what looked like his young Cambodian partner, were gently whiling away the hours doing a spot of reading, checking emails and in my case writing, surrounded by amazing scenery, tall palm trees and lush green foliage! The sun was beating down and at 35 degrees, I could feel every bit of it; it reminded me of my days living in Australia; in many respects this was a place I was immediately drawn too!

Lotus Farm
In the afternoon, my Aunt and I had arranged a trip to a lotus farm and floating village at Tonle Sap, near Siem Reap. On our arrival, we were greeted by some of the inhabitants, who asked us to try some fruit from the Lotus flower. The subtle taste was unlike anything I had eaten before. The farm itself was situated in a vast area of flatlands, as far as the eye could see; small pyramids in a sea of green!
The terrain was wonderfully picturesque, rays of sunshine dancing off the pools that surrounded the village and a gentle breeze blowing through, rustling the tops of the lotus plants and agitating what looked like a waterwheel in the centre of the village. In every direction you could hear wind chimes tingling in the doorways of the small pyramid thatched homes where farmers and their families live. The air was clear; no pollution punctuating the air and the smell of other colourful flowers drifted across the landscape; inviting, directing us to a large meeting house at the heart of this small community.
After forty five minutes, we left for the next stage of our visit and a trip to one of the floating villages, Cambodia is famous for!

Floating Village
We arrived at a rather busy port on the lower Mekong Basin, where we would depart on the half hour journey to the middle of this freshwater lake. There were twenty or so boats of differing sizes, many of which looked tired and in a state of disrepair, They were packed with tourists and visitors, all heading in the same direction. Gingerly we walked along the pier, towards our boat, which looked older than any of the other vessels there.
I sat down on one of the old wooden seats and looked around. Above hung life jackets and other tools the tiny crew on this boat would need, all stacked above wooden beams and the tarpaulin roof, already blowing in the strengthening wind. Below our feet the deck boards were laid haphazardly, large gaps in the joints giving us a view of the water below. The structure of the boat was open to the elements and there were leather straps above our seats, so we could hold on as we made our way up the Mekong Delta.
The sound of a loud horn and a plume of rather concerning black smoke, signified our departure. The noise of this ancient boat was indescribable as it shuddered into life. Rocking from side to side, slowly edging us towards our eventual destination. As someone who usually gets sea sick, I was actually dreading this adventure, especially when I saw the state of the boat we would be travelling in, but in reality, I found the journey to the village quite soothing. At times we were passed by other larger vessels, which shook us violently from side to side, but it didn't seem to matter. Obviously I would have preferred a more luxurious craft, but my experience was made more memorable by the conditions we tolerated on our way!
The entrance to Tonle Sap was busy; there were boats carrying tourists and commercial baggage in every direction. As we picked up speed, we could see small villages on the banks of the river, markers directing ships away from the rocky edges and people fishing, with children playing alongside. This was a view alien to a Westerner like me and despite the poverty on display, it was strangely attractive and alluring, completely different to rivers back home.
Eventually we made our way out of the thin channel of water, rather like a road, that directed us to what seemed like open sea. I remember thinking to myself how vulnerable we were, bobbing up and down in the middle of no where and water as far as the eye could see. Looking around, confused, I couldn't see a thing, until we changed direction and headed over the horizon. A wooden marker loomed heavily, telling me we were there. Other small buildings, built on stilts gradually became more visible, until we arrived at the centre, where other vessels were moored; a hive of activity, where tourists mingled with the locals.
As we alighted the boat, I spied a child at the side of the craft next door. He had a large snake around his neck and was parading it up and down, like a trophy he had won. My Aunt, who has a real fear of these creatures was less than impressed, but this was just part of life here in the floating village and really not that unusual in Cambodia.
Neither my Aunt or I were aware of just what was beneath our feet, as we walked around the wooden structure. In order to survive, this river community farm fish and to our astonishment, crocodiles. In the centre of this landing platform  there was a large pit of writhing, hungry, flesh eating crocodiles, all waiting for their next meal. As one looked through the gaps between the boards on the floor, one could see other crocodiles walking about just a few meters below. I think my Aunt was more horrified than me. It wasn't really a place to hang around for long!
Finally we ended our tour of this floating village, with a prearranged dinner on the 'Queen Tara,' a large ship anchored away from the village itself, offering panoramic views of this amazing Cambodian wonder. A floating village, with a school, shops, post office and other local amenities, working in harmony with the environment in which it is situated; a truly magnificent site, looking out across this amazing structure, as the sun fell gently below the horizon.

The food on 'Queen Tara' was basic and typically Cambodian. We sat at a table with Robin and Molly, an Australian couple from Perth, where Darrell is from and two young Asian ladies from South Korea, who usually worked in The Philippines. We chatted for an hour, about our travels and our lives living in different parts of the World. By the time I had finished my third pint, it was time to leave and bid farewell to this unique waterside collective in the middle of what was described as the biggest fresh water lake in Asia. This would be one experience I would never forget!
....and it wasn't over yet....

The sky was dark, there was no light anywhere to be seen. The wind had increased substantially as we made our way back in the boat towards the port from where we came. Half way along our course, smoke started to bellow from the back of the craft. My heart sunk as I realised something was up.

Suddenly the smoke turned to fire, as the back of the ship glowed red. There was panic as the man at the back of the ship ran around the side of the boat, asking for help from the two other crew on board. By now I was also beginning to get scared and fear the worse; I really felt this was it.

Running back to the rear, he started to throw water on the fire, without success, shouting and screaming to his crew mates. I just put my head in my hands and prayed we would all survive. As I opened my left hand, another crew member also ran to the rear and began to stamp the fire out. The smell of thick acrid smoke was terrifying, but eventually the fire was extinguished and we limped home.

This was probably the most amazing experience of my lifetime and something I will never forget. The sights and sounds of the village in the middle of a lake will remain with me forever. The ups and downs of this trip made our journey all the better and as we approach the end of our journey I am grateful we survived to tell the tale!
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