Metal cows and Cambodian snow

No, Bec and I have not been sampling Cambodia's infamous 'happy pizza'; these are just a few of our learnings from our just completed moto tour of Battambang's countryside.

But let me bring you up to speed.

After our last report, we did what we'd promised to ourselves we'd use Battambang to do - nothing. We went to the room, turned on the fan, a/c and CNN and slept - a thoroughly decadent experience for me (that said I was feeling poorly). Whenwe finally dragged ourselves out of the room again we couldn't really be buggered with traipsing back to the river front for dinner so instead did a dusty and futile walk around the three main streets looking for somewhere to kill time before dinner. We settled on a nice looking first floor balcony called 'Gecko', a restaurant/bar/massage parlour to which we'd received free drink vouchers. After a couple of G&Ts all inspiration to move on left us, so we got a cop-out dinner of burgers and fries from the same joint (and I thought my burger rocked, so score one to me).

With full bellies and desire for more drinks waning rapidly we retired to our hotel, where despite my not particularly wanting to drink I still managed to bring our foolish Phnom Penh purchase of a bottle of gin downstairs to drink with the hotel owner while he battled the Mac settings on my iPod in an ultimately fruitless attempt to reverse tunes off it. It can be done; oh yes, it can be done.

After too many gins I stumbled upstairs (Bec had made the right call earlier) only to find Die Hard III on. So an early night was scotched.

This morning we finally got out and about. We'd organised a tour through our hotel and got two bikes and guides to take us around local Battambang sites. The highlights included a ride on what's called the Bamboo Train, a highly dodgy contraption that runs a thin bamboo platform at high speed across some of the worst train track in the world. Although it'd meet no safety standards whatsoever, it was damn good fun and we got to see some fantastic scenery, including rice fields stretching to the horizon.

We also went to an Angkor-style temple at the peak of a decent climb, and later to what's colloquially known as Boat Mountain, the home to legends about the foundation of Cambodia's terra firma. The walk and the guide's input were both fascinating. The walk also took us through another of the Khmer Rouge's litany of offenses against humanity; a gaping hole in the earth leading to a cave and a 30 foot fall for anyone who fell foul of the regime's insane intolerance. It was sickening but moving.

We finished with a dusty trek through village territory where I learned the two terms that headline this yarn: Cambodian snow is a polite term for the choking dust thrown up by the myriad cars, trucks, motos and tuk tuks that gradually tear up the roads, and metal cows are modernity's answer to an ox-pulled plough. It's a fascinating place, and if you ever come here I'd recommend the same two guides we had.

Having returned to the (relative) safety and cleanliness of our hotel, we shouted our guides a beer then headed back to the rocking nameless noodle place for lunch. We've had a few beers and there's not many plans for the remainder of the day aside from showers, more beers and maybe drinks and dinner at the Riverside Balcony.

We're spewing that the Smoking Pot remains shut despite a re-opening date of 13 November, but it seems Vietnamese 'rubber time' applies here too. As a result we might do another tour tomorrow, but for now it's time for cleaning, napping, and perhaps even learning the art of Texas Hold'em from our colourful (and somewhat bogan) hotellier.

Need a slash. Cheers.