The answer is as follows. I set out for a jog a long the Mekong promenade this morning before breakfast hoping that the there would not be too many pedestrians or too much traffic around. While I was right about the former I was very wrong about the latter. 0745 was very definitely part of the rush hour and the road to the prom was choca-block with motorbikes, tuk-tuks and cars. The were no gaps in the traffic. The traffic speed wasn't that fast. More of a saunter-hour really but it was the volume of vehicles that left me initially defeated. How was I to cross? The answer appeared to be gradually, without stopping and in front of the largest vehicle possible. Mopeds abhor a vacuum and will fill any available gap but gaps they can't fill are the ones in front of full width lorries and buses. Eventually along came a cement lorry, 20 metres away and I went for it, walking boldly out into the middle of the road. Halfway there. As the lorry trundled behind me I weaved my way across to the other side between the on-coming masses. Relieved, and only worrying a little about how I would cross back over, I went for my morning stagger. I am sure that practice at road crossing makes perfect but even Tufty would have his work cut out in Phnom Penh especially I allowing the added danger of texting moped riders thrown in for good measure.
The plan was for all of us to rendezvous at a coffee shop across from our place for the night , The Riverwalk Guesthouse. The place advertised "Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner" so it looked a safe bet. No Lawrences were there when I returned. Instead I found them all dressed in Lexi and I's room enjoying the satellite TV, namely a Barbie film. Brilliant. Our heroine was desperate to become a ballerina but in trying to fulfil her dreams she had to overcome several obstacles. Firstly she and her best friend Hayley, who wore glasses and a sensible haircut, a kind of Velma to Scooby Doo's Daphne, had to avoid the offers of help and marriage from two idiot horse-riders. One of them was apparently a lazy prince and the other his accomplished arrow shooting bestie. The two women then had to survive being geese and in particular Hayley/Velma had to avoid being shot by Princey's bow and arrow. Luckily Princey had been trained by the Vogons and so missed our heroine's best friend by 20 metric metres as she struggled to fly away. Surely her flying attempts were made all the more difficult thanks to the pair of glasses that she was wearing? The person who really needed their eyes tested though was The Prince himself as he failed to even pass comment on a bespectacled goose. Luckily it all ended and ended happily. Barbie danced, heroic ballet dancer Siegfried watched on and some dodgy bloke with a moustache in the audience applauded. Hunger and the need to put our brains back in meant that we were not able to watch any more, much to Trixie's disappointment.
Returning to the "Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner" place we discovered that it was really just a place for blokes to gather round and drink coffee and so instead we caught a tuk-tuk to the Central Market in search of breakfast. Central Market is an ornate yellow, pentagonal building packed full of handicrafts, jewellery, fake designer goods and food. The bread, noodle soups, coffee and fruit was all delicious. But as with all Cambodian markets haggling is compulsory for everything. Trixie stood on my last pair of fake designer sunglasses so I bought a replacement fake pair. The first price was US$4 and the price I paid was $2. Lexi bought a necklace. First price $7. Price paid $4. Would it not make sense to display fixed prices that include a sensible margin of profit for the vendor? It all gets rather tiring as the over-pricing is not consistent. We then saw some table mats with a initial price of $6. Following the half it and haggle approach adopted earlier we offered $3 only to be met with a plaintiff "No. Can not." Eventually we settled on $4.50. Did we get a reasonable price or did we fall victim to a pitiful lady?
One price that was about right was for the box of coffee that I bought to send to a former colleague and good-coffee aficionado. One of the now retired secretaries at my former school loved real coffee, much like me and shunned the poor relative that is instant. We got on well. Well the least I could do was post her 250grams of Cambodia's finest brown stuff. Our guesthouse was conveniently near to the main post office and so while Lexi and the children had a post breakfast stomach churn on the swings at a neighbouring park I set about posting the parcel. I am used to over-staffing in Malaysia and perhaps a little more sympathetic to it in Cambodia given the relative poverty. However having six or more people involved in sorting it my small parcel was perhaps genuine overkill. The main lady who staffed the "Overseas Ordinary Parcels" counter was assisted by one colleague who tore up the Sellotape while the main lady weighed the parcel pre- and post- packaging. The other four people involved stood around and looked on some offering advice and suggestions other just alternating between a quick chat and blank staring. One staff member though fulfilled the very important role of mobile phone call fielder. The lady sorting out my package (no rudeness intended) had to break off for a few moments to take a call. The most tricky part of the whole the though was sticking all the stamps on. The postal cost was 55,000 Riel and the largest value stamp was 4000. After all that I hope the parcel arrives!