Day 14. Phnom Penh. A city of motor bikes. Five abreast, three up, meandering, dashing, slicing, on the wrong side of the road, weaving through oncoming traffic, daring cars to run them down, on the footpaths, across vacant lots, deftly avoiding pedestrians; pulling carts loaded with building materials, people, rubbish; side cars designed as ice cream vans, as night market food stalls, for delivering produce, fish, ice, rice. Tens of thousands of them playing a giant game of 'chicken'.
Pedestrian crossings exist but are totally ignored. Only once did a car stop for us as we crossed a road. He took pity on us - we had made it to the centre (half way point) but were stranded, frozen at the prospect of taking on the next tsunami of bikes and cars. Didn't see a single accident - remarkable.
Oh, I forgot to mention the swarms of tuc tucs and their drivers, each intent on outdoing the others with their decor and design.-
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