Kolajo’s mission directive was clear: Locate and ingest the Pho at the famous Vietnamese chain, Pho 24, thus confirming or refuting that it deserves its title as Best Place to Eat Pho in the World (according to the recently published Guardian article).

I set out at noon, zinging with the thrill of Ho Chi Minh’s energy, refusing cyclo ride hawkers every three steps, and being absolutely, positively terrified of the traffic of Saigon.

Pho 24

Basically, there are a gabillion motorcycles here. People ride them with cocky, entitled pizzaz, zooming through unregulated intersections in packs of fifty, weaving around cars, narrowly missing pedestrians, and generally acting like rock stars on holiday. These are not the sad, raggedy motos of Cambodia, but are, rather, glistening beasts of metal, galloping through every nook and alleyway of Saigon.

Wanna cross a road? There is never a break in the rushing flow. To cross, you must slowly yet determinedly inch across, trying whenever humanly possible to cling with those mystifyingly confident crossing locals. To pause or turn back is to bring peril. Push onward, and the cyclos will and must weave around you. You must have faith! (I still have none.)

Somewhere past “Pho For the President” and the place where a giant office building squats upon a park, and sometime after the first drops of rain blooped down, a branch of Pho 24 came in sight. Victory!

Inside was sleek, modern, and clean. I ordered a juice of Sapodilla fruit… still not quite sure what it is, but it was tasty. Now, please note the photo, left, of the paper placemat; according to Pho 24, Pho contains a compound that cures and/or prevents Swine Flu! How useful!

I asked what the most popular Pho was (medium size with beef slabs, the waiter replied), and was brought a steaming bowl, along with a plate of green leaves, hot peppers, and onions.

I sort of panicked upon seeing that condiment plate and ended up dumping the entire thing into my Pho (not quite sure this is the hip way to do it, but I dislike waste and tend to overdo things in general).

Then it was time to dig in. Mmm! Mmm mmm mmm! Gooood Pho! Rich broth, succulent meat, lots of leafy goodness (basil?), oniony zestiness, and spicy hotness. The thin white noodles glistened on the chopsticks and were tender and happy-making. Yum! Thanks, Kolajo! (Anyone else with a culinary or other exciting quest, bring it on!)

I wandered Saigon for the rest of the day, ogling the floppy dried jellyfish with chili sauce stand, the teeming markets, the sexy clothing stores, and the happy mix of Vietnamese locals and tourists.

I leave Cambodia feeling sad. I don’t feel sad to leave, but rather I am infused with a profound sadness from what I saw over the past ten days. I have much the same feeling as I did after living in Guatemala: the scars of recent history’s horrors are still bleeding through this country. And how could they not be?

Here are seven elements that will likely strike a tourist to Cambodia:

The intense and persistent begging. From dust-caked children hawking bracelets to wrinkled, stooped grandmothers, to landmine victims who pull the stumps of their bodies along the ground with their one arm, wherever you sit they will find you: on the beach, inside a restaurant, walking around the street, waiting for a bus… Their eyes are haunting, and even when you shake your head four, five, six times, they will stay there, pushing their wares or hands further in front of your plate of food.

Packed Moped in Cambodia

An emotional barrier between tourists and Cambodians that takes real work to surmount. Because of the gaping socioeconomic disparity and of the contrasting histories, there are layers of mistrust between tourists and Cambodians. The tourist, perhaps, thinks that anyone who talks with him is trying to sell something or beg for money and often fears being mistaken for a “sex-pat.” The Cambodian, perhaps, sees the tourist as taking advantage of his country’s resources and services, and cruelly flaunting first world wealth.

Painful visuals. In Phnom Penh, especially, soot and grime coat the surfaces. The colors of the tattered awnings are faded and dull. The air is thick with exhaust and human misery lurks behind every corner. Everywhere in Cambodia, tuk-tuk and moto drivers will chase you, pushing a ride. Many travelers remarked they felt sensory overload. Ultimately, however, it’s far easier to be the rich tourist constantly saying “no” than the tuk-tuk driver who has to fight for his one dollar fare day in and day out, isn’t it.

The whole family on one moped – with four giant bags. One of the most difficult visuals for me to accept was the tiny babies perched on top of speeding mopeds. This is so dangerous, it is unbelievable. My bus from Siem Reap to Phnom Penh actually hit a moped and didn’t even stop to see if the driver survived. A friend’s bus passed three road accidents, one with a casualty.

Love of Angkor Wat. The temple’s face and name graces the beer, the hotels, the restaurant names, the t-shirts– everything. What a grand history! And yet, how many countries have one defining symbol?

A growing tourist industry. Though not as packed as Thailand by far, Cambodia boasts its growing share of tourists from around the world. The tourist infrastructure in the major locations (Siem Reap, Phnom Penh and Sihanoukville) is quite good, boasting numerous economical and quality bus, hotel, and tour options. That said, we still spotted a sewage drain running into the sea we were all swimming in…

The music videos played on long distances buses are – wow. Apparently the hot sexy look for men is a chubby face with long, wispy bangs combed to the side and a mini-mullet of long hair in back. Apparently the plot of every single music video is: Show field of grass; show man walking after beautiful woman in field of grass and watch her reject him; show either: a) man winning woman and embracing in field of grass, or, b) man getting beaten up by woman’s other lover in field of grass, then getting rained on.

And now for some positives! Perhaps you can tell, my experience in Cambodia was excellent but also… intense. On some happy notes, Cambodian smiles positively glow, Cambodian food is mm mm yum, Cambodian entrepreneurial spirit evident in the street is energizing, and Cambodia has come so, so, so far in re-building after the horror it lived through. It’s an ever-evolving country, and it will be fascinating to see what the next few years will bring.

Lillie taught for six years in the Boston Public School System. Now she’s traveling the world. You can follow all of her travels on her Around the World blog.

“Why do you reckon everyone backpacking in Thailand is so damn attractive?” asked the Scottish boy, slurping his mango juice and gesturing out along Sairee beach at the bodies dancing in the firelight.

Over vegetable spring rolls, we compiled the following list:

I'm On a Boat

• From the other Scottish boy: “If you weigh fifty stone, you’re more likely just to sit at home and eat yer fish and chips, cause you’d not want to don a bathing suit.”
• If you travel, you likely have some money, and with more money you can take good care of your body, inside and out
• Pale British boy suggestion: “A good tan does wonders for a body”
• Perhaps to travel you need some inner vitality and spark, and that shines though on the face
• If you’re hot, you may be an egomaniac who wants to take the show on the road and do a sexiness world tour
• Similarly, if you’re hot, you may disdain all the Joes and Janes at home and want to search the earth for maximal hotness like yours
• Travel in developing countries is hard on the body, and thus you must be fit to endeavor it in the first place
• Folks here wear 5% of the clothes they wear at home, hence more fleshiness is exposed. Perhaps under all those North Face jackets at home, this same goodness lurks?
• Lack of stress smooths the skin. Moreover, Thai massages are $5 and hour, and touch makes skin glow.

In the end, though, maybe everyone, EVERYWHERE is hot, but when you travel, your senses are bursting alive. Traveling, all beauty you see is a million times more beautiful.

Lillie taught for six years in the Boston Public School System. Now she’s traveling the world. You can follow all of her travels on her Around the World blog.

At 4:30 a.m., my cell phone alarm exploded me awake in my ridiculous supply attic room.

Was a torrential lightning storm going to foil my plans like yesterday morning? There are no windows in my supply attic room, so I padlocked the door and barefooted down to the second floor to peer out the grated balcony. Clear! Dark! This meant ten minutes to throw on clothes and meet Sopheak at his tuk-tuk downstairs. Woo hoo!

Sunrise at Angkor Wat

We hit the road fast, joining a parade of tuk-tuks, bicycles, minibuses, and maxi-buses, all headed for the same glorious destination: Angkor Wat, the biggest temple in the world, at sunrise.

Twenty minutes later, we squealed into the packed, muddy parking area as the first glimmers of sun wavered though. “Run that way!” Sopheak urged in his soft, sweet voice, pointing to the beautiful line of humanity streaming through the gate. “I meet you at the big tree there in two hours!”

Through the giant stone gates I ran, clutching my camera, and easing past Japanese tourists of all ages. A massive stone walkway rolled out beyond the gates, and at the end, the most delicious peaks of architecture pointed up to the dawn sky: Angkor Wat! It’s you! Hello! You’re gorgeous!!

At first, I got confused and ran right in the looming temple itself, but soon realized that the inside the pitch black masterpiece was a dumb location to watch the sunrise. Out again I sprinted and made straight for the hundreds of enraptured people clustered by the side of the lily-pad kissed lake.

For the next hour and a half, we were awe-struck paparazzi. Each inch more of sun brought fresh gasps of delight and sparkles of flashbulbs. “Ooh yes, that angle there,” you could almost hear the Japanese grandfather cooing as he adjusted his giant tripod. “Stunning, honey, stunning– now just a little more in the light so I can see that graceful curve…” Everyone passed around their cameras to everyone else to take different permutations with and by strangers. Everyone became less strangers and more family, united in the cause of timeless, centuries-old wonder.

Cambodian children and adults milled around the crowd, selling coffee, water and books. I snapped a photo of a man wearing an Angkor Beer shirt in front of Angkor Wat itself and chuckled. Indeed, one can see from the fact that Cambodians name and shape everything from their beer to their border gate like Angkor Wat that the temple is the absolute pride and joy of their country. The Lonely Plant Guide emphasizes that it was to this heavenly, distant past, that Cambodians clung when Pol Pot was massacring their countrymen and women.

After the sun was fully glowing above the temple, we all began to flow inside. One can basically climb over and up nearly any part of Cambodian temples and often I would look up in shock to find a tourist way out on an overhang.

The inside of Angkor Wat is breathtaking, boasting ornate carvings on every surface, painstaking sculpture work, and columns, halls, stairs, and turrets to make Cinderella drool.

And yet– that wasn’t even the end. From 7:30 a.m. until one in the afternoon, Sopheak took me and my English lady friends to about fourteen other temples in the “small circuit” of the hundred temple complex. Tomorrow we go back for the “Big Circuit”, and the day after to the far-off sections. WOW.

Truly, Angkor Wat deserves its title as the Eighth Wonder of the World!

Lillie taught for six years in the Boston Public School System. Now she’s traveling the world. You can follow all of her travels on her Around the World blog.