12 Nutella Pancakes (and lamb with all the trimmings)

Kampot was a place I kept mistakenly calling Tampon for reasons unbeknownst to me (other than that 5 of the 6 letters are the same). It was described by the little brown owl (Trip Advisor) as a 'pretty French colonial town' on the river in South Cambodia. A 'must see' by Lonely Planet. If we hadn't done so many of these towns everywhere along the Mekong River now, we might have enjoyed it but, as anticipated, there was nothing to do there except sit and stare at brown sludge. Which you can do from the retreat of your own bathroom, if needs be.

Dr Evil and the Killing Fields

All was going relatively well until I got tonsillitis on the 13 hour bus journey between Laos and Cambodia. Simultaneously shivering and sweating on shit-coloured leather seats with a trigger-happy-with-the-horn driver meant that life was not turned onto Comedy Central that day.

Upon arriving in Phnom Penh, the boy's first port of call was to find a non-dodgy chemist, in a city where behind every counter lies a Dr Evil maniacally cracking his fingers. Entering a pharmacy in Cambodia is a little like the Skittles Midas Touch advert* where everything one touches explodes into thousands of colourful sweets - except here it's obviously pills. The good news was that you didn't need a prescription for anything, just simply a response to:

"What you want? Where you from? I get you anything you want!"