Bottom of the Board - Buddha Face

Having a wonderful time in Sayulita?  Check.  Trying to figure out a way to get back sooner than later?  Check.  But how will I make this happen? Hmmmm.

I’ve got it!!  I’ll arrange to have a custom surfboard made for Cooper!  That’s PERFECT!  Not only will it be useful (I am already envisioning all the myriad of things that we can do with the board – coffee table, shelf, hood ornament for Stuart’s ungodly big car), but it will be ready in...a month! Awesome! My surfing muscle memory may still be in tact and it gives me time to work on my abysmal Salsa (don’t get me started on this one)!

Enter Rogelio Ramos – surfboard maker extraordinaire.

Rogelio - surfboard designer extraordinaire

We were introduced to Rogelio by Nando, our beloved surf instructor, adopted son and all around outstanding young man, who unselfishly, without any questions or retort, spends hours and hours each and every day with Coop, shooting the breeze, hanging out, looking for the perfect break and deflecting hard core locals from shredding my poor son as they jump onto a 5-footer.  Coop shadows Nando like a groupie, and to his eminent credit, Nando is such a good kid, that he is happy to put up with it.  He is a local treasure bordering on iconic in status, and likely accounts for a significant portion of Sayulita tourist dollars.  But I digress.

As we walked up the dusty street – barefoot – to Rogelio’s studio one bright day last month, we weren’t exactly sure what to expect.  What we found was a serious and dedicated artist.  His understanding of surfing and knowledge in crafting a board to meet specific capabilities, to enhance and indeed, improve your surfing ability, was obvious.  As I inhaled the toxic fumes of fiberglass and airbrush ink, I knew this guy had the goods.

Nando, taking the big brother lead, discussed Coop’s surfing ability with Rogelio, his style and preferences.  Coop input enthusiastically, eliciting more thoughtful conversation.  Jesus, you would have thought they were solving the climate crisis, with such seriousness did they undertake this interview.  I watched with interest and pride and just the slightest notion of yet again, being the oldest person in the group by two decades.  Feeling confident that Rogelio was up to the task and that Coop would be able to provide the artwork via email, I counted out the 50% deposit, and set my sail on how I was going to essplain this to Ricky. I mean Stuart.

Coop & Nando Debating & Discussing

Arriving at Rogelio's Studio

Fast forward – Rogelio finished the final artwork of the board yesterday and it is truly a work of art (even Rogelio thinks so).  The experience – which could have been iffy – was anything but.  Communication was a breeze, which I take full credit for as I carefully and painstakingly translated all my emails into espanol, a task I took enormously seriously for fear I might accidentally mistake a word for another, like buddah and, well, doodah (clearly, a common example) and end up with a completely different design.  Again, another case of perception vs reality as each laborious, painstakingly exacting email I crafted in Spanish to Rogelio was met with an equally accurate English response, using actual contemporary jargon versus my high-school antiquated and hokey nonsense, giving me every reason to believe Coop when he said, “mom, he speaks English really well.”  Aye, Dios mio!!

Most importantly though, Cooper is thrilled.  The board is completely custom, down to Coop’s specific artwork choices, sort of a poo-poo platter of Hindi, Buddhist and traditional Kaizen symbols, initials, and a personal message from the artist.  In 72 hours, its a safe bet that Coop will be tearing up the Sayulita surf on his new board, with Nando politely running interference.  With any luck, I’ll be right alongside, patiently designing My custom board to pick up in August!

Author’s note – while this strategy ultimately worked for me, I would not necessarily recommend this ruse to everyone.  Thankfully, I have a husband who, for reasons that I cannot fathom and test constantly, simply wants to make me happy.  As confounding as this is, he quickly got on board (sorry!) with the plan, and is looking forward to riding his new investment this weekend.  And of course, when I say riding his investment, I am referring to the surfboard (get your mind out of the gutter).

Artist's Message

Top of Board

Another View of Bottom

Stephen David Ford

We have had the heart-breaking news today that Stuart’s big brother, and Lynne’s little brother, Stephen Ford, passed this morning in the UK.

I did not know Steve as well as I would have liked, but I immediately liked him very, very much.  When I met him the first time, I was on a mission.  I was bound and determined to  have a kumbaya moment with my new brother-in-law.  I felt there was much to discuss – some heavy stuff – and I had an instinctive feeling that we would get each other.  The poor man!  Didn’t see me coming, at all!  This brash American, the new wife of his little brother, turning on the L.A. mumbo jumbo about karma and choices and reconnection.  But I think he was secretly amused by me, and recognized that my intentions were sincere.

Steve & Stuart 2006

Sometimes relationships are complicated.  Particularly between siblings.  Stuart and Steve are in many ways, very different people.  Like the little brother, Stuart bristled at Steve’s clear-cut paternal role (and deep love of all things American, most-especially the Civil War (a confederate!!).   Given Stuart’s clear dislike of all things American, I used to say that I married the wrong brother), yet I also know the love and adoration that Stuart felt for Steve is irreplaceable.  Steve was very much the father figure to Stuart.  Which makes the loss doubly painful.

Steve and I were facebook buddies, as he was with all of his family – all the kids, who routinely communicated with him, the patriarch again,  in this medium.  It was on facebook that I had my last “conversation” with Steve.  I had been planning a surprise bday for Stuart in Sydney, which Steve was in on.  I needed a decoy during the surprise period, someone to spin the surprise in a different direction and keep Stuart guessing.  Steve immediately rose to the occasion, firing off an email to Stuart (supposedly by accident) confirming he would pick us up at Heathrow.  He got such a kick out of being in on the joke, and when it was a fait accompli, he wrote me the last message he ever sent me.  It said, “I always knew I liked you.”   And that makes me very happy.

And so – having lost one of my brothers in recent years, I totally get the pain and the process.    It sucks.  Sucks, sucks, sucks.  Everyone has to find their own grace to help them get through.  I have learned that the pain of the loss never goes away, just seems to come with less frequency as time goes by.  And as the pain of the news hit us this morning – this first warm, beautiful Spring morning in ages, I began to grieve.  For Stuart, for Steve’s wife Elaine, for Lynne, for the kids, for Alva.  And for the loss of my own brother David.  And then the learning kicked in, and I called my brother Daniel, and I told him I loved him.

Steve, Stuart & Lynne

With all of my love to the volumes of friends and family that loved Steve Ford.  He will be sorely missed.

A War Zone

In support of the most soulful city in the whole US of A on this Superbowl weekend – a favorite NOLA memory.

For certain personality types, the generous piles of powdered sugar that cover the beignets served at the famous Café du Monde in the French Quarter are one of life’s little temptations that must be indulged.  I don’t mean the sensuous joy of eating the fried dough goodness but rather, the childlike glee that comes with a food group that is perfectly suited to war.

Recently, on a trip to New Orleans with my two teenage kids, I found this confectionery call to arms too tempting to resist.   While visiting the Café one evening to try these pillows of luscious pastry, practically drowning in powdered sugar, I quickly identified the opportunity to sink us all into dessert depravity.   When I could no longer restrain my evil impulse (and after eating my beignets), I fired the first shot – well, blow.  Discreetly raising my plate to mouth-level, I quickly locked onto my target and blew the piles of left-over sugar with the force of Old Faithful.  In a matter of seconds, my son Cooper was covered – brown sweater, face and hair all generously coated with the white substance.

As anticipated, his response was swift and immediate.  But – like a routine

Coop post-fight

straight out of a Three Stooges film, his whoosh of white powder missed me completely and instead, covered our beloved, innocent Juliette – a French exchange student who was living with us for the year and who, in her typical manner, was completely unaware of the goings on around her.  For Cooper, this was a grave mistake.  Juliette is French.  Beignets – all pastries – are held in the highest esteem, right alongside Liberté, Egalité and Fraternité.  This was a blatant act of provocation for Juliette, compounded by the fact that her much beloved navy blue “I Love NY” sweatshirt was now defiled with white dust (not to mention her face and hair). Thus, the Battle of the Beignets had crossed international borders, and Juliette’s war cry was audible within a five-mile radius.

The instigator and the blissfully unaware young girl

Thankfully, due to finite sugar reserves, the battle was quick, relatively controlled, as battles go, and huge fun.  I am happy to report no patrons (or beignets) were harmed in the melée, although there were some terrified stares.

And as we slunk out of the restaurant into the warm night, leaving a trail of glowing white footprints across Jackson Square, we knew without uttering a word that in this small act of civil disobedience, a bond was forever forged between us, proving there are certain experiences in life that should never be influenced by good judgement.

Jules - not une heureuse camper

David Redic - Singer, Artist, Designer, Really nice guy

I am happily ensconced in a small booth working the LA Art Show for an important client, a well-know art publication.   And I’m buzzed by all the art and creative people around me.   Artists, hippies, bohemians, eccentrics, taggers-turned-fine artists, hip collectors, hot curators, kids living in an art collective, just doing their thing. Completely inspiring to be around this energy.

I spotted David Redic yesterday and fell in love with his style on the spot. When he opened his mouth, the deal was  sealed – his personality and energy are completely infectious.

A singer (check out his  video on youtube) mixed media artist, and now fashion designer, the man has talent to burn. His outfit – his design – consists of a faded pink corduroy jacket which he’s turned into one-of-a-kind artwear, with leather and fabric patches added to the back and sleeve, and his words written onto the left front and side.  Paired with an orange zip neck sweater, shirt untucked, baggy pants, and perfectly-shaped fedora, his look speaks directly to my sense of color as well as my appreciation of a confident man who happens to look like a million bucks in clothes.   Just heaven.

The LA Art Show – west hall, LA Convention Center, goes on thru Sunday, Jan 24.  Admission $20.  Great collections to check out.

Finish Line!

“The trouble with jogging is that the ice falls out of your glass.” ~Martin Mull

The moment I pack my suitcase for a journey, I am perfectly resigned about two things.  One – that I will not deprive myself of any gastronomic delight or opportunity to drink champagne while watching a sunset (or sunrise).  And two, possibly in response to one, I will pack my running shoes.

Beyond the obvious physical benefits, running in the morning while on holiday allows me to profoundly experience the soul of a place – through my soles, as it were.  Running through the streets before the sun has even risen is such a pure and intimate moment.  I gain more understanding of the local culture in this hour then often, in the entire journey.

But most certainly, the memorable upside of this cardio-excursion is the frequency of moments when you think to yourself, “If I hadn’t run, I wouldn’t have seen…”

…the elephant walking in the middle of a crowded boulevard in Phnom Penh on her way to her morning ablutions…

…the drag queens precipitously walking home from the all-night Mardi Gras party in Sydney, heels broken, make-up running and feather boas looking listless and slightly anemic…

…the street vendors shuffling their carts over the cobblestone streets in Florence, while the mist over the Arno gives way to streaks of salmon, pink and orange …

…the sound of the waves gently pounding the beach in Sayulita as surfers wade into the water, half-asleep yet ever-hopeful that today they will catch the perfect wave…

…the  elders, with their colorful umbrellas and spry joints practicing tai-chi in a small, peaceful park in the middle of Hong Kong.

Perhaps it’s the attainment of that elusive, thoroughly-addictive, mind-altering endorphin rush that contributes to the feeling of perfect peace that envelopes me when I run.  When on foreign soil, this experience can be transcendental, heightening my senses and connecting me to a culture in ways I never thought possible.  And on a more secular note, when I run while on holiday, I get to eat cheese.  And bread.  And dessert.

Following are 6 of my favorite routes that bring me eternal joy (and stronger legs) each and every time I have the opportunity to run them.

1. Hong Kong – Mid-levels/Victoria Peak

Lugard Road, Victoria Peak

If you’re in shape, good for you.  Run up to the top of Victoria Peak via the Old Peak Road.  Otherwise, do what I do, and take the funicular to the top.

At the top, take Lugard Road, the oh-so narrow road that circles the peak.  The homes are spectacular, nearly rivaling the panoramic view of the Harbour.  The jungle feel and dense foliage create an enchanted atmosphere in the early morning, with the fog firmly settled in.  What I didn’t expect, and I think those who haven’t been to Hong Kong wouldn’t expect as well, is that in stark contrast to the chaos that is Hong Kong, the back side of the island is dense forest as far as the eye can see.  It is this paradox – bustle and soul, that grabs you and for me, makes Hong Kong spectacular and totally unexpected.

Head back down the Old Peak Road, where you will pass some grand old Colonial homes in various states of disrepair, as if lost in time and taken over by jungle.   Head into  Soho (in this case, South of Hollywood), and stop for a coffee at any number of delightful cafes on Staunton Street. 

Tip: When running down through Mid-Levels, its a kick to get onto the escalator, which looks like a habitrail, on its morning one-way-only route down into town.

Tip #2:  DO eat at The Peak Lookout restaurant on Victoria Peak.  The ambiance is romantic – tables set outside on the deck, trees festooned with fairy lights – Sinatra playing quietly in the background.  You will seriously wonder what year it is.  And when the fog begins to creep in around 9:00 PM, it is absolute magic.

Sydney Botanic Gardens - My Vortex

2.  Sydney

When I found myself frequently questioning the Gods as to why I had jumped ship from my normal life in L.A. and regrouped in Australia…when the fear and anxiety threatened to send me into yet another panic attack of titanic proportions, I would put on my running shoes and head to the Botanical Gardens.  If it weren’t for this spot and for Crowded House, my constant and singular musical companions, I’m not sure I would have made it.

I like to start the run  just under the Sydney Harbour Bridge.  Run through the Rocks towards Circular Quay.  Follow the Quay to the Opera House and then into the Botanical Gardens – follow the path to Mrs Macquarie’s chair carved into a block of stone.  This is where she used to sit, admiring the view  and waiting waiting waiting for her husband, Governor Macquarie to return from sea.  This is a very special place for me – religious, really.  Sometimes I would have to wait for people to enjoy it before I could take my turn to sit.  But I always sat, willing Elizabeth Macquarie’s spirit to protect me and guide me through a difficult time.  I have no doubt she did.

Continue back through the Botanical Gardens (stop to smell the roses!) to Macquarie street, past the Parliament House of NSW, then into Hyde Park, up Oxford Street to Centennial Park, where you could get lost for days.  Run back, or better yet, wander around Woollahra and Paddington and head to the Elephant Bar at the Royal Hotel in Five Ways and have a glass of Veuve.

Tip:   If you time it for a Saturday, you may catch the famous Paddington Market on Oxford Street.  Great art, clothes, decorative things, leather goods – I have found many unusual goodies here.

3. Santa Monica

Santa Monica Stairs - Glute Hell

So many great places to run in this area.  Along the beach past the Venice Boardwalk to the Marina.  Along Ocean Avenue, with its palm trees and gorgeous ocean views.  We all have our favorite routes.  I’m partial to running along San Vicente Blvd, probably because I grew up in Brentwood, and have run this street to the beach, with its grassy median, all of my life.  Alone, with friends, with my dogs, with one of my mom’s husbands (#2) and of late, with my AIDS group in training for the Florence marathon.  An added bonus, if you take it all the way to Ocean Ave and hang a right on Adelaide, you can have the distinct yet painful pleasure (no pain no gain) of doing the famous “stairs” that descend the hill to West Channel Rd.  Your glutes will thank you.  Tip: If you take San Vicente back into town from the beach, stop at the famous red Brentwood Country Mart on the corner of 26th and San Vicente.  When you go through the doors, you’ll come into an interior patio with a wood burning fire pit that has been there as long as I have been around. (It’s old!)  They still do a mean cheeseburger and you can eat around the fire pit.  Divine!

Anse de Saline - Starting Point

4. St Barths

OK – THIS is a tricky one, and not for the inexperienced runner.  St Barths is Hilly with a capital H.  H-squared, really, if you count Heat.  Not to mention the fact that the roads are narrow, windy and steep – a calamitous scenario for drivers, let alone those of us trying to get some exercise while along side of them.   My cousin Doug has sussed out the best running route (bearing in mind the island is only 8 square miles).  He starts at Anse de Gran Saline and heads inland, where there is only a little grade and more importantly, a larger road with grass alongside.   This gently slopes up as you come to the fork in the road, where you veer left towards Lorient. Hit the beach in Lorient, turn around and head back to Saline, where you can have an amazing breakfast at Le Grain de Sel.  Honestly, this is about the only place I can think of, other than past Toiny along Grand Fond, that is relatively flat and where you don’t risk getting taken out by a Suzuki Jimny driven by a tourist with a death wish. 

Tip #1:  Run in the morning – it can get really baking hot otherwise.

Tip #2:  If one wanted to finish one’s run at Anse de Gran Saline and one were of the mind to take a quick swim in that glorious ocean in the buff, one could do so here.  Of course, I couldn’t comment on that.

5. Phnom Penh

Sambo on her way to a bath

The key here is to get up really early to do this run – around 5:30 AM,  so that you can end up along the river  in time to see Sambo on her way to or from her morning ablutions.  It’s quite a sight.  We stayed at the Pavilion Hotel (only place to stay – hands down), so I would start from those welcoming gates, hang a left to Street 240, make a right and head down to the river.   Definitely do a quick circle around Wat Batum where you can see the Achy Breaky Dance Group doing their best Billy Rae Cyrus routine, totally bizarre in every way.  Head north (er, west) via Sisowith Quay, past the Royal Palace and Silver Pagoda, past the FCC, and take a left and head back up into town.  Get back to the hotel, jump into the pool and then stake your table around the pool for what is one of the best breakfasts ever.

Tip:  While running Street 240, stop to window shop at Jasmine Boutique – you will lose your mind.  Unbelievably gorgeous silk clothes with a contemporary point of view.

Running in Firenze while Jules hams it up

6.  Firenze

Having successfully completed a marathon in this fair city, I can say without hesitation that I did not like running in this otherwise agreeable town.  Cobblestones, quite frankly, are hell on the ankles.   Still, a route along the Arno on the Lungarno Corsini from the Palazzo Corsini past the Ponte Vecchio up to the Piazzale Michelangelo, with the most amazing view of the city, is not too taxing, and completely worth the journey.  Heaven. 

Tip:  Don’t even try to run in town around the Piazza della Signoria or the Palazzo Vecchio. If the cobblestones don’t kill you, trying to weave your way through the throngs of tourist will.  Not worth it!

Happy trails!

Post run and piercing

What better way to kick off the new year than a seven-mile run on the beach?

I mean – why not take advantage of the mild climate that is the envy of all Rose Parade viewers around the world?

That’s exactly what we did.

The gorgeous beach, colorful characters and market stalls that line up along the Venice Boardwalk make a perfect backdrop for a run.  There’s always something slightly off-beat going on to keep your mind pleasantly distracted.  Plus, with all the pot smoking on the boardwalk, you get the additional perk of a contact high.

Our route starts in front of the Casa del Mar hotel and heads south, past the Venice boardwalk to the Venice Pier.  Left on Washington and quick right on Ocean Front Walk.  Go down past all the alphabet streets, with their sailing names (Fleet, Galleon, Hurricane, Ironsides, Jib, etc.) to the very end, which is the Marina del Rey channel.  This is your 3 1/2-mile mark.  Pause to have picture taken to document to the non-believers that you actually got out of bed and exercised, and then turn around and head back to the Casa del Mar.

Sidewalk Cafe - Venice Boardwalk

When you’re done, there are many many places to stop and have brunch (without feeling like you have to change your clothes).  One is the C&O Trattoria on Washington, which serves mimosas by the pitcher (ideal for sore joints).  The Fig Tree Cafe right on the boardwalk, is another great place for brunch.  We bypassed the always huge line at The Sidewalk Cafe and made a bee line for the bar, which always seems to have a couple of seats free, has a view of the boardwalk and full menu.   Finish up the experience with a walk through the market stalls on the boardwalk, where you can have your chakras read, your nose pierced (I did) and pick up that all-important box of Nag Champa incense – my fave.  A perfect way to start the new year, and a great run anytime!

Nag Champa Incense

Concorde Celebrity Passenger Graham Norton

I was just thinking about the Concorde fleet of supersonic, luxury jets that ferried moguls, industrialists and well, Naomi Campbell, across the pond in half the time of a 747.

Whatever happened to the Concorde?   Granted their cost model wasn’t exactly profitable, but to have traveled by Concorde was a prestigious distinction that the vast majority of air commuters would never experience.

Surely in these days of multi-tasking, brand building and social networking, there is a new generation of time-is-money mongers only too willing to pay for the privilege of traveling in supersonic, mach-2 style? Maybe Richard Branson should focus his efforts less on inter-galactic commercial travel and more on pond crossing – view of the curvature of the earth included in the cost of a ticket.

A few fun facts about the Concorde:

• Two Concordes made simultaneous maiden passenger voyages on January 21, 1976 on two different routes – the London-Bahrain route and the Paris-Rio route
• The fastest Atlantic crossing by a Concorde was 2 hours 52 minutes and 59 seconds – the average flight took under 3.5 hours
• The Concorde traveled at Mach 2, which means 2-times the speed of sound – the equivalent of 1350 mph
• The Concorde flew at an altitude of 60,000 feet
• The cabin was silent since the Concorde flew faster than the sound of its engines
• A ticket cost on the Concorde in 1979 was $1700 (the equivalent of nearly $6000 in today’s terms) vs $243 for a ticket on a 747
• The Concorde had four Rolls Royce engines, each capable of 38,000 lbs of thrust
• The Concorde capacity was 100 passengers and included two pilots, a flight engineer and a six-person cabin crew
• A NYC-bound Concorde flight carrying celebrities (including the always dapper Graham Norton) attending Liza Minelli’s wedding had to abort take-off due to
  

  The Concorde - literally faster than a speeding bullet

  pre-mature (engine) acceleration

• The Concorde was forbidden to fly at full speed across the US because of the sonic booms, which could be heard for 30 miles
• The Concorde never earned a profit
• In 1977, the Concorde operated under two major airlines, and was thus painted with the BA logo on one side and the Singapore Airlines logo on the other
• The passenger experience was cramped with low ceilings and minimal leg-room.  The bathroom to passenger ratio was not a bonus, though fresh flowers were always present in the lavatories; meals were served on specially-manufactured Wedgewood China.
• The final commercial flight from NYC to London took place October 24, 2003
  

  Concorde Cabin - Cozy Claustrophobia

Sleek & Spare Pop-Up Hotel Room

When life gives you  lemons, make lemonade.  So the saying goes.  Apparently the travel industry is following suit, and doing a little squeezing of its own for the budget-constrained, on-the-go traveler who doesn’t mind a bit of pre-fab construction.

Pop-up hotels have been well, popping-up all over the world for a couple of years now, most recently in Europe. According to a recent report on travel trends in 2010 and beyond from Euromonitor International, pop-up hotels are stacked up to become a major tourism phenom. The key advantage is the ability to quickly provision portable and affordable hotel rooms in conjunction with longer-term events and festivals. Not surprisingly, the rooms are small, though efficiently laid-out.  The decor -  urbane chic – sleek and spare – Ikea meets modern prison cell. In the best possible way.

London will get its first pop-up hotel in Spring 2010 in the form of uber cool and luxurious  M-Hotel, designed by UK architect Tim Pyne, whose construction concept is frequently likened to snapping Lego blocks together. “The hotel can go up – and be taken down – in three days,” says Pyne. “Each room concertinas down into a shipping container, so they can be easily transported by rail or road.” Other advantages? “The M-hotel concept can explore the opportunities to construct hotels in underdeveloped areas and can also be relocated around the world,” says Pyne.  Design-wise, M-Hotel rooms are chic and well-laid out – interior walls can even be moved to create a bigger room or conference space.

Other chains are quickly setting themselves up to be players in the porta-tourism space. In the UK, Travelodge has already launched its Travelpod and plans to build nearly 40 hotels a year by 2020, half of which are expected to be pop-up. At about £29 a night, there’s money left over to buy a nice bottle of wine, unfold a paper wine glass and medicate yourself through the inevitable claustrophobia of spending a night in a box, albeit a fabulously hip and eco-chic one.  Hmmm.

The Travelpod - Habitrail Chic

M-Hotel Cool and Customizable Exterior

Monks Making their Daily Rounds in Phnom Penh

It was  just announced yesterday the Crescendas Group, a Singaporean consortium representing 21 companies, is looking to sink between $30 and $50 million into tourism in Cambodia.

According to Delegation Head Delegation head Lawrence Leow, deputy honorary secretary of the Singapore Business Federation, “We see the progress, very steady progress in the country…The people are very warm, and the government is very helpful; I think it is good for foreign investments.”

“It depends on the project but I will invest in Cambodia. I’m coming back very soon … to continue my discussion,” he said.

Singapore group eyes investments – The Phnom Penh Post

I’m not at all surprised by all of this investment.  Cambodia is an amazing place, diverse, soulful, rich in culture.  There are many personalities of the country – something for everyone!

Phnom Penh is well on its way to being a very urbane destination, with chic hotels, all manner of bars and restaurants, art galleries, great shops, and diverse population.

Siem Reap, with its tall palm trees and lazy river, has a great feel to it, rounded out by a variety of hotels and a buzzing night life.  Angkor Wat – not really much to say other than the temples will make a profound impression on you.

In the south, the coastal towns  of Kep and Sihanoukville offer a sense of privacy and escape that many people equate to Phuket 30 years ago.  Kep,  the quieter, sleepier of the two areas, with its abandoned French Colonial villas, magnificent in their day, and its amazing, melt-in-your-mouth crab.  Sihanoukville  is more lively and built-up, but the beaches are definitely worth the trip.

Now is the time to visit, no doubt about it.