Kampot

The bus for Kep , an old demolished sea resort was leaving Saturday at 7:30 am . Leaving our heavy luggage behind, we jump in it with our enthusiasm to see the sea again and our bathing suits not knowing exactly where we were going. This is so true that we missed the point, realised too late we passed it and went on all the way to Kampot, the last bus station ! We were going to come back on our steps when Jean Michel decided to phone someone he knew in town. A biology teacher, now an inspector for the Kampot district who he had once received in France . She answered the phone and soon we were invited to stay in town to meet her so did we.
Kampot is such a lovely serene town half asleep along a beautiful river with some beautiful colonial French style houses to be restored.
It was so interesting for me to meet Yout .Born in 49 , left a widow with a 3 year old son at the age of 26 when her husband , father, brothers in law were all executed by the Khmers rouges for being too clever , she had time to ponder on the atrocity of it all while surviving , teaching , bringing up not only her son , today a doctor in town , but many adopted orphans. Having lost her mother only some weeks ago she had following the tradition her hairs cut extremely short . We were invited to her niece’s place where 2 beds were soon offered for the night as if we had been part of the family for ever .
I could have stayed for a while in Kampot specially when I discovered the Marco Polo hotel , an old fashion European style 2 stories building with a room with a view on the quiet river and so I promised myself to be back there once soon !