When they say make the journey an enjoyable part of your holiday, they can’t have been talking about Sihanoukville. Renamed as sh*tville by us and every English speaker we met, the gateway to the islands is best passed through as quickly as possible. Which isn’t easy. We didn’t think it could get any worse than our drive there from Kampot, the roads barely surfaced at all and traffic totally horrendous. We were stopped by police and our driver wanted us to switch to a tuk-tuk but we refused! The rate of Chinese resorts being built is incredible – every other building is a casino and all writing is in Khmer and Mandarin. We had left an extra 2 hours to reach our boat but only arrived at the pier five minutes before its supposed departure time (1pm)– to learn it was leaving an hour later, if it was the boat we were supposed to catch…..and it seemed impossible to buy a ticket!

The way back was even worse – after a very rocky crossing we were dropped off at a different pier so had to walk along pot-marked streets to reach a bus. Abandoned at Jasmine café with no clue when or where our pre-arranged bus pick up would be – as we were an hour late for that too….(we eventually arrived in Phnom Penh at 9pm after leaving 12 hours earlier).

Our arrival at Koh Rong should have put us off but our three days there will I think remain forever memorable, in a positive way! Known as the party island, we were not staying in its main hub Koh Tui (which we only experienced on leaving, a typical backpacker joint, we munched on some nachos at Runaways) but instead on the quiet north-eastern shore, in a local village.

Eventually around 2.40pm the old boat set off from Sh*tville. Luckily, we had filled up on pot noodles and street food while we waited. Arriving after 5pm at Palm Beach resort on Koh Rong after a rough crossing, we couldn’t find Johnny, our Air bnb host who we thought would meet us. Told at the resort by a western hippie waitress that the village of Prek Sway where our homestay was located was just a short 15 minute stroll across the beach at low tide but through the jungle now (she clearly had no idea bout traveling with 2 kids)….we headed off. With all our bags. Not really knowing where we were going but knowing it would soon be dark….

About 45 minutes later we eventually arrived at a path into the village where the girls could scoot (!), met Johnny by the bridge over the river, and went to our accommodation. Which was a newly built hut on the river bank, one bed with no AC or running water. Refreshed by a coconut plucked from the tree outside, we unpacked and had dinner prepared by our host family, a smiley elder couple who spoke no English. Every meal was a plate of rice or noodles with a small amount of vegetables and occasionally meat or fish.

A generator in the village runs from nightfall to 10.30pm after which there is no power. Roughly 200 families live in the village, mostly fishermen.

We visited the temple and school on the outskirts and made friends with most of the children, sharing our reading books, paper and crayons for colouring activities and playing hide and seek. None spoke English, it was wonderful to see MoJo interacting with them all and having rides on the backs of their bicycles.

There were kayaks available, so the first day we kayaked back across palm beach for lunch. The second we went on a longer excursion to Lonely Beach on the northern coast, joined by Johnny and a Dutch couple. It was a 45-minute kayak through the mangroves and then a 45-minute walk through the jungle, full of bugs including leeches! Reaching the idyllic sandy beach was paradise – as was a swim in its wavy waters, before realising we had to leave by 4.30pm to make it back before sunset.

So after 3 days in the village, we packed up and travelled to the neighbouring island Koh Rong Samloem for a more luxurious 7 nights, which overlapped with our wedding anniversary.  

The journey involved 3 different boats (the first just for us, with only one engine working!) and took around 5 hours, including a rainstorm during the rockiest part of the crossing in between the islands.

We were staying at the One Resort on Saracen Bay, a wide, shallow bay on the eastern coast.

It was the time we could really just relax, there wasn’t much to do, which was wonderful. For the girls we could get into a simple routine of some school work and diaries and playing restaurants (make believe and for real when we got hungry!).

Some days it rained, pretty ferociously – but never for long.

Tom and I did daily beach runs, timing ourselves and we took kayaks out a couple of times.

Epic sandcastles and sand balls were constructed, some surviving the thunder storms to live another day.

The only resort there with a nice, beachside pool, our two-bedroomed bungalow was large, cool and comfortable.

Better still was the kid’s area in the communal restaurant space and passion fruit mojitos during happy hour!

We soon made friends with fellow English guests, splashing about in the pool through rain and shine, playing beach Olympics, going on an after-dark phosphorescent plankton boat trip and most importantly winning the weekly quiz at the nearby Big Easy!

A relaxed, happy place, it soon became our local. The best food we had was probably at Bamboo Jam next door to the Big Easy.

The one trip we did on foot was across to Lazy Beach, a 1.5 km hike through a muddy jungle path, rewarded by a beautiful beach with high waves and a guesthouse with delicious food and a table tennis table.

It was fitting we were in such a place the last week in August, it felt like we were on a normal family holiday. It was only beginning to sink in that when September began we weren’t going to be getting back into our routine like everyone else, but instead would be continuing our world tour, pretty exciting!