We enjoyed our Bangkok guesthouse in spite of the cockroaches populating the Buddha shrine and ants casually dragging pinkie-sized pieces of sandwich up the walls. But it was time to go.

Earlier in the week, we’d met D., a fascinating Thai cab driver who’d actually spent many years in the American south. He’d regaled us with tales of partying with an armless friend, and blind dates gone awry. But Jason has already exhausted this rich source of inspiration, so I’ll let him tell this story.

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One thing I will elaborate on is the truck stop meal, which may have been our downfall later that evening. We stopped at a deserted truck stop with al fresco dining. Several women lounged behind vats of food chatting at the back of the patio. For some reason, we ordered the sukiyaki, comprised of fly-ridden pork, shrimp, noodles, water, and some kind of thick brown substance in a pitcher. The cook poured it all into a barely warm pan and stirred it around for a few minutes. Voila, lunch. Details to follow.

Upon arrival in the Cambodian border town of Koh Kong, we were immediately swarmed by kids asking for "numnums" and cab drivers looking for fares. The visa process itself was kind of shady, costing more than we knew it should. But it was definitely worthwhile to cross the border by land rather than just flying in – it gave us more of a sense of the place. We rode with the van driver who offered the best deal, and arrived at our guesthouse.