Siam Reap is a sleepy place, relaxed, sleep and unhurried. Apart from the amputee beggars who demonstrate a remarkable turn of speed and crutch clacking agility as they race to catch up with the Barang that they've spotted. The Tom riel river runs through the centre of the town, and if it weren't for the dense heat, strangely dressed people and the seething stink from the river so polluted you could take a slice of it home with you, you could almost imagine yourself in Oxford, England, or Christchurh, New Zealand. But given the pollution, dust, the dragon Wats and the saffron monks that pass by,in hindsight it took one hell of an imagination.

People here are always smiling, friendly, curious and demonstrative.They always want to know where you're from, how long you'll be staying. On the very first night I arrived I repaired to a bar and ordered a beer to chill out and soak the atmosphere of the French quarter near the old market. Within a few minutes,a gorgeous Khmer woman was giving me the fifth degree demanding to know my name, where I was from and, of course, how long I was staying.

'My name is Salong. I am very pretty, yes?' she stated matter of factly.Â

Salong was like this and as I was later to find out, probably the vainest woman I have ever met. But there was no arguing with her, she was undoubtedly pretty and very, very sexy,with a full curvy figure, a beaming grin and a husky, almost gravelly deep voice with black-black eyes that you would willingly drown in.

'Um, yes, yes indeed you are' I laughed.

'Yes'm I am.' she nodded in all seriousness, a little smile appearing, pleased that I agreed with her.

We talked for a while, her English was suprisingly good, her job was to be pretty and smile at passing potential customers, greet them and persuade them to eat at 'my restaurant' as she always referred to it. It was nice to relax after the kidney shattering haemerroid popping journey from Poipet on the Thai/Cambodia border to Siam Reap, the town that sits on the doorstep of Angkor Wat which was one of my lifelong ambitions to meet. Night had fallen, and occasional couples would wander slowly past, inspect the menus and move on, with whining beggars in their wake, or stay depending on Silongs charms, the menu or both. Men tended to stay when Salong greeted them. She was one of lifes tremendous, natural flirts, always touching men, placing her hands on their arms or holding their hands with an affectionate squeeze. The sort of woman that makes a man feel special, attractive and desirable. For that wonderful moment, you felt that her entire world revolved around you, that her only purpose in life was you, a potent spell that only a few women ever learn to cast naturally and effortlessly. From time to time she would turn and grin at me, her smile wide and generous and seemingly sincere.

I'd been there for an hour, the night was slow, so she sauntered slowly over and sat down opposite me,

'You buy me drink yes?'

How could I resist such a subtle demand?

'Of course, what do you want?'

A high stream babble of liquid language burbled to the waitress behind the bar and after what seemed like half an hour of heated discussion, she's ordered a coke.Â

'I not happy girl.' she confided suddenly.

I was a little woozy by now, fascinated by this gorgeous creature that could quite easily have wrapped my heart around her little finger with the least of half-hearted efforts. I suspected that she probably already had done, and that I just didn't realise it yet.Â

'Why aren't you happy. Tell me.' I urged, leaning forward, smiling.

'No.' she lowered her eyelids, and then half-raised them pinning my heart to my chair. 'Hokay I tell you.' she continued, not needing to be persuaded it seemed.

'I go to wedding on Saturday, but I no have boyfriend, all my friends she have boyfriends, but I no have, I very sad girl, very sad girl yes'm'

She sipped her coke.

'Why you no have boyfriend?' I switched straight into my best Indochina pidgin,'you very sexy lady, very beautiful woman, I no believe you no have boyfriend!', my voice rising in mock outrage.

'Yes'm, I very beautiful and sexy but no have boyfriend' she said sadly.

'How long you stay Siam Reap?' Silong suddenly changed the conversation.

'How long?' I shrugged, 'I no know, depend, may'be one week may'be two,who know?' I held up my well practiced mime hands to underline the pidgin.

'What you do Saturday?'

This threw me somewhat, I'd arrived just two hours earlier, it was now Thursday evening and in all truth Ihad planned for nothing over the next few days. I like to get a feel for a place, wandering around, eating, drinking, talking and watching before I actually get around to doing anything much. Sort of like getting settled in, gauging the pace, mood and atmosphere before plunging into anything remotely approaching something like the threat of mild activity.

'Um, I no know, why you ask?' I replied.

'Hmmm, you have girlfriend? You come Siam Reapwith girlfriend yes?'

'No, actually I travel on own, long time now. May'be one year'

She looked at me disbelieveingly,

'I think you lie me, you have girlfriend, yes?'

'No' I gestured around me, 'Where she is?'

'You sure you no have girlfriend?'

'Sure sure.' I laughed.

'You want come wedding with me? On Saturday? Yes?'

I was even more thrown at this and paused with I suspect a fly catching open mouth expression, but why not? I'd been to a Batak wedding in Indonesia, a Chinese wedding in Malaysia, it seemed only part and parcel of this odyssey to go to a Khmer wedding.

'Sure, okay, why not' to be honest I couldn't believe my luck.

'You will?' She stood up, excited and pleased.

'Of course, I look forward to it.' And in truth I was, what better way to immerse yourself into a new culture than attend a local wedding?

'Hokay, you no lie to me, you come yes?'

Lie to her? A beautiful, sexy and funny Khmer woman was asking me to accompany her to a wedding two hours after arriving in a strange country and I'd refuse? This had to be a record of some sort, two hours, a stranger in a strange land and I had a sort of date.

'I no lie!' I protested. 'I come wedding with you.'

'You have nice clothes?' she asked, suddenly peering disapprovingly at ny torn jeans, frayed shirt and sandals battered from too many jungle hikes.

'Yes I have nice clothes' I smiled.

'Good, hokay, we go Saturday afternoon, yes?'

And so we made the date. We'd meet at 'her' restaurant, and then we'd go on to the wedding. I knew that she just wanted someone on her arm, but I still felt flattered that she asked me rather than other, younger, much better looking and less scruffy men than myself that were in the restaurant. That's a typical male for you, my Leo ego applied to an inncoent invitation in a flash. Eventually I left the bar, after a squeeze and a hug from Salong, and wandered the Fench quarter.

Under the beautiful French colonial architecture, dozens of restaurants gathered, and beggars thronged the place, from small children with even smaller children tied with a dirty Krama to their backs, amputees with hungrily bobbing caps, mourn faced women with two or three snot nose children staring wide eyed at the Barang with more money in their pockets than they would probably see in a year. And they all wore the same tedious mask of pathetic desperation and false destitution. I found a restaurant with a seat far enough back from the road to avoid the immediate beggars, and started talking with the waiters and waitresses, again, so friendly, so curious and so open and warm.

The night drifted by, the only sounds the gentle drum of conversations, a passing moto, tuk-tuk drivers calling out.

'Hello! Where you go! Hello! Tuk-tuk?' every ten feet that a Barang walked.

A bottle of wine eventually took its familiar grip and I let the moment and the madness of a culture just discovered wash over me like a balm, drenching me in it's newness, unfamiliarity and beckoning alien flame.Â

In which I so willingly burn.

yechydda,