It was mid December of last year when I entered Cambodia. Yet, it doesn't feel as though a year has passed. Certain memories seem as though they occurred just yesterday. Like one revolving my foot, for example.
This poor foot is no amateur in the field of travel-related disasters. Rewind the clock to March of 2009. Barcelona. I sat on the back of a motorbike with a silly boy. The end result was less-than-pleasant. My foot being the one to face the brunt of it all, trapped under a pile of machinery as we lay sideways on the ground. The poor thing grew three sizes that day, and remained so for weeks. A long time passed before it finally forgave me.
Returning to present day (present day, last year, that is), I had been walking on a numb leg and foot since a week into touring Myanmar because of a lower back issue, which consequently, still isn't resolved today (the real present day).
Feeling melancholy after having visited the Killing Fields, and having no desire to stick around the streets of Phnom Penh, I traveled south to the coast the very next day. December 24th, to be exact.
The price of the hotel I booked was astronomical for the locale. Granted, the powdery white sandy beach was worth it. And it was the the busy holiday season, after all, so I took what I got.
Although dark out when I returned in the evening after a day out, it was still relatively early. Instead of heading to my room, I decided to walk down to the outdoor lounge area and listen to the sounds of the waves lapping against the sand.
With the light of the moon as my only guide, I made my way down the outdoor stairs. But with no feeling in my foot and minimal visibility, I missed-stepped. My foot twisted and I followed it to the ground.
My gift to myself last Christmas season was a torn ligament, and a self-mandated 10 day stay at the beach.
This poor foot is no amateur in the field of travel-related disasters. Rewind the clock to March of 2009. Barcelona. I sat on the back of a motorbike with a silly boy. The end result was less-than-pleasant. My foot being the one to face the brunt of it all, trapped under a pile of machinery as we lay sideways on the ground. The poor thing grew three sizes that day, and remained so for weeks. A long time passed before it finally forgave me.
Returning to present day (present day, last year, that is), I had been walking on a numb leg and foot since a week into touring Myanmar because of a lower back issue, which consequently, still isn't resolved today (the real present day).
Feeling melancholy after having visited the Killing Fields, and having no desire to stick around the streets of Phnom Penh, I traveled south to the coast the very next day. December 24th, to be exact.
The price of the hotel I booked was astronomical for the locale. Granted, the powdery white sandy beach was worth it. And it was the the busy holiday season, after all, so I took what I got.
Although dark out when I returned in the evening after a day out, it was still relatively early. Instead of heading to my room, I decided to walk down to the outdoor lounge area and listen to the sounds of the waves lapping against the sand.
With the light of the moon as my only guide, I made my way down the outdoor stairs. But with no feeling in my foot and minimal visibility, I missed-stepped. My foot twisted and I followed it to the ground.
My gift to myself last Christmas season was a torn ligament, and a self-mandated 10 day stay at the beach.
1 comment:
Ouch! At least the beach was nice.
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