* Incredibly ancient, hostile in the wind but pleasant on the surface, confused and confounded by breaks in the armour, hostility again in the spirits in the walls, fond memories fading, the streets an assault, nothing simple, Suzy's manic pace keeping them hopping from one end of Pnom Penh to the other in the choked traffic and polluted air; past the Pnom Penh Hotel, down Russian Boulevarde, watching the sunset from the Foreign Correspondents Club or just screaming out: it's got to stop.