Strolling Kampot.

Kampot is the capital of the-surprise,surprise-Kampot province. It is a laid back town, and one of the prettier that i have seen in Cambodia so far. In the center there are several streets lined with old Chinese style shop houses and french buildings. Sort of a trademark is the roundabouts with monuments standing in the middle. Great for road descriptions. Getting to my dormitory at the Blissfull guesthouse was simple-waling from the Durian to the salt monument and then breaking left, or from the millennium monument up to the salt monument, crossing into my street.

My last sight of the Cambodian capital. A wet one!

I came to town in the afternoon. Getting out of Phnom Penh took its time-in the morning there had been a tremendous rainfall, and many of the streets normally used by buses were more or less impassable for them. Lot of detours was the obvious consequence. That leg of the journey was sort of a nautical experience-the bus making a bow wave which flushed dirty water and trash up to-and even into-street side shops. Not very popular. There were even children swimming in one of the streets. Not to be recommended. It is not at all clean.

The saltmakingmonument in Kampot. In the dry season, saltmaking is important in the area surrounding Kampot.

The millennium memory. 

The big durian. Kampot province is famed for their extra delicious durians.

Psar Samaki, the big market, is worth a stroll. Good for people watching and good for simple, cheap but good food-street type. It is laid out as a grid of narrow passageways and is a pressurized boiler of human activity. And smells. Dried fish and squid and shrimp paste are particularly generous odour contributors. Hidden between fruit mounds, shrimps and clothing is even a jewelelrysection where the jewellery makers hammer tapping stands in great contrast to the food vendors shouting and screaming meters away.

Fried bananas at the market.

A sweet stall. Beans, riceflour and coconutmilk are base ingredients.

Local transport.

A good place for noodlesoup or ricesoup. The coocking is made on a stove made of an empty oilbarrel, and fuelled with wood.

Small sharks destined for the dinnertable.

Like in Norway, there are shops specializing in building materials. Only that the products on offer are different ones. Here you find palmleaf panels, stilts ans bamboo poles.

The old bridge across the river. Smashed during the war, and restored in a variety of styles.

Cosy streets. The french left an attractive mark on the town.

Another french era gem. Now turned into the local-overpopulated prison. I took this shot while sitting eating in a sidewalk shop at the corner. The guards suddenly all left the towers, so i took the opportunity to snap.

The pretty lotus pond.

Time for a sunset cruise. Here is the venue-complete with bar&ice cooled beer plus a toilet to get rid of that  of that beer.

The youngest bartender around. A big time charmer.

Greetings from the bridge. Local Muslim girls.

The 5 O'clock race-fishing vessels hurrying downstream towards the sea.

Along the river. It was a nice trip upstream, but the sunset was hidden behind the mountains. It was the wrong direction. Still it is worth the trip-it is a pretty stretch of river.

Heartcrusher at the evening tivoli near the durianmonument.