Sihanoukville

A walk in the garden of tall palms and white eucalyptus, breakfast by the pool, and a morning under beach umbrellas listening to the heavy lapping of waves by the Gulf of Thailand. Day 50, Tuesday 12th July 2011. Across the bay the fishing village; the corrugated iron roofs of the shanty town nestle more comfortably in the trees than does our own electrified, synthetic tourist palace.

For two days I will feel like an aged rock star enjoying a paradise earned from a lifetime of doing nothing of real value. A kind of long-term version of the senior dilemma, having spent 40 years to ascend a flight of stairs only to find oneself unable to answer the same question that Noren asked us yesterday, “What is the purpose of your journey?”

People have been stumped by that one since before there were waves on this beach. I’ll bet the Westminster Shorter Catechism has the closest answer.

We have a rainy afternoon, which is beautiful, and quiet, here in Sihanoukville

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