Leg 13: chasing the green jersey

Sick of buses and sick of taxis, it was with enthusiasm that we made our way to Kep by way of bicycle. It was hardly a sprint, but by the time we had puffed our way through the 25 kilometres we were wary of the fact that our bikes were not going to make the return journey to Kampot on their own. I would be lying if I said that the thought of abandoning the bikes (and the bicycle owner) didn't cross my mind.

Leg 13: Kampot-Kep (in green).

Apparently the scenery was lovely as we rode past farms and small villages. At the time, I was busy ensuring that my lungs continued to function and I seem to have missed the view.

Kep turned out to be somewhere between heaven, paradise, and nirvana. However, I may have been so happy to dismount my bicycle that I exaggerated Kep's beauty in my mind. In any case, Kep was a lovely town to relax in.

Dinner in Kep consisted of a plate of the sea's greatest gift: crab. Without question, a saddlesore bum was a small price to pay for such a spectacular dinner.

Above: While it is impossible to imagine watching your steak being slaughtered prior to a meal, seeing your crab being caught is an entirely delightful experience.

Next stop: Kampot