We are on enroute to Hanoi tonight,
leaving behind Siem Reap and the countless temples, markets, tourist
buses (mostly Koreans), foul air (they burn plastic bottles to get
rid of them) and heaps of garbage. These are harsh words but at the
moment it's hard to get past them. Some reflection is in order but
I'll save that for later.
Yesterday on our way to the temples (no
idea which ones), the firey flash of red shirts splashed white maple leafs caught
my eye along the side of the road. Canadians! Bikes! Could it be my cycling friends!?
Good fortune fell upon us, and about an hour later, after stopping to
watch a family cook sugar palm into oh-so-good candy, we stopped to
visit along the roadside with my friends from Edmonton, Gary and
Tracey. We compared itineraries in the fall so it wasn't a complete
surprise that our paths crossed in Siem Reap. So last night we sat on
comfy couches among the dark wooden pillars and pergola-style ceiling of the
2nd-floor lounge at their riverside hotel, enjoying wine, mojitos,
and conversation.
 |
| How could we miss those red shirts! |
So far from home, it was good to
exchange stories—surprises, disappointments, expectations met and
not—and to be with friends. Despite my longing to travel, I know
that when I do experience a bit of home away from home, I recognize
my need to touch down, and feel familiar dirt under my feet. As we
headed out in separate tuk-tuks to our different dinner arrangements,
I was grateful for this brief interlude in the company of friends.
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