Chapter Two: On the road again – Cambodia 30th -31st of January

If I had to find a word to describe Cambodia would be smiles. Not only our smiles, but the smiles of the people living there. Despite all the things they went through, they are always smiling and cheerful. Poor and yet always serene, and extremely kind to tourists. Cambodians are wonderful people, no doubt about it. Travelling Cambodia called for a lot of energy, but returned a lot of emotions.

We arrived in Phnom Pehn around lunch time, and we had to find as usual a hostel. It was not really hard actually, as there was only one street full of hostels and the one who won for us was definitely the best choice ever: Happy 11 Backpacker guesthouse. Really simple dorm room, small bathroom, awesome bar and staff, and everything for a ridiculous price (around 5-6 $ per night if i remember well!).

Phnom Pehn is chaotic, dusty and noisy. A big decision was on the go…we wanted to travel Cambodia with motorbikes. Once we all agreed, Alex decided that that night was the right time to consume the Havana that he was bringing around hanging outside of his backpack since the beginning of the holiday. We drunk with Chinese people in the hostel (it was Chinese New Year!) and everything was good until…yeah I know that I’m using this expression a lot, but it’s not my fault if something was always happening!

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Anyway, everything was funny and nice until a pretty drunk A. fell on the floor from a step of five (maybe even less) cm, and it was the end of the world. As a doctor obviously he didn’t trust doctors and hospitals, so we had to drag him into a tuk tuk to a hospital, which was crazily expensive, and Mr. Doctor A. decided that he could treat himself. So we went to a pharmacy to buy some stuff, hoping that nothing was so bad to mess up our moto-plan. The next morning a really complaining A. gave the permit to go and look for motorbikes to buy. Ah, during one of those days we set up a rule about complaining: if a sentence was considered by the majority as a complaint, the person had to pay beers for the others. It worked, most of the times! Ok, anyway during the morning of the 31st we gloriously bought two motorbikes (maybe this word sounds too much for what they were, but at least they were not e-bike), and one was Fotzetta. The name came from a combination of German and italian words, and we deeply loved her!

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The other one didn’t have a noteworthy name; this was probably why it broke so often.The whole thing of buying was a mess, it took ages and not really a good understanding with the sellers, who kept on bringing crap bikes for crazy prices. In the end everything seemed ok (even though we had some doubts about the documents) and we made it.

The journey with Fotzetta will be something we will never forget.

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