Psar thmei

I haven't been to Central Market for a while. It feels like the city authorities, in their wisdom, have given it a 'facelift'. This consists of moving the durian sellers and other authentic stalls and replacing them with carbon copy elephant pants and ethnic purse stalls. It's less atmospheric and parts of the market are now devoid of Cambodian shoppers; in their place groups of doddery tourists twenty-strong identifiable by their tour ID lanyards and shepherded by a resident western nun.

I zipped around the market to find a few items, negotiations harder because half of my mouth was numb from a filling. Cambodia is much cheaper for dental work although it would be wise to register with a dentist in the UK for the first time in a decade. A visit to my friend Din's gallery and a couple of his items themed around Cambodian apsaras to Khmerise the new place I'm finally moving into tomorrow. Freshly laid tarmac that stuck to the soles of my shoes and left a trail of black prints. Chancer motodop drivers trying their luck with inflated prices. Phnom Penh's most comfortable temperatures of the year that you occasionally realise aren't causing you to sweat profusely.

As always awe at the life on Phnom Penh's streets, from the bursting foliage and power lines overhead to the red hot cookstoves that spill over to the street, inches from passing traffic.

Last-minute packing (cramming) helped by the ever-generous and patient Ruby who has been a loving and giving host and companion on this trip. A quick Asian fusion lunch and rapid attempts to caffeinate before the long journey.

On the flight home, too braindead to do anything productive I watched 22 back to back episodes of Mom, an American comedy starring Allison Janney and Anna Faris. And even that couldn't fill up the journey to London from Kuala Lumpur.

Until next time, Cambodia.