Several decades later, remnants of destruction remain, but the beach booms with backpackers and Cambodians alike. The water is warm, the breeze helps keep sun-bathers cool, and the atmosphere is relaxed. Screams of joy ring through the air with each new crashing wave. Parents throw bright orange life jackets on their children and push them toward shallow water. Local kids collect cans and bottles from the sand. A mothers totes her child behind her while a man with no legs crawls across the sand from one sun-bather to the next asking for money. Vendors sport bright straw hats and checkered scarves to protect their skin from the sun. Women balance fruit trays atop their head. Beach vendors hassle with persistence - massages, pedicures and manicures, fresh fruit, BBQ squid on a stick, bracelets and sunglasses, hats and scarves.
I enjoyed breakfast each morning on the beach, with sand in between my toes and waves crashing before me. I spent several relaxing days on the beaches of Sihanoukville, with a book in hand and fresh mango at my side. And with enough hassling, I finally caved and enjoyed a pedicure from my beach towel.
Evenings on the beach were lovely! Seaside restaurants fire up a grill each night and serve traditional Cambodian and Kmer BBQ. I slip my shoes off and walk along the beach as the sun sets, relishing the feel of wet sand under my feet. I finally fall into a rounded wicker chair with a large orange cushion on top and order dinner. As darkness falls, the waiter places a candle on my table followed by Khmer-style chicken skewers. Waves crash in front of me and I can make out the dim outline of fishing boats in the distance, bobbing with the currents. Children light off fireworks over the water's edge and fire dancers light up the beach, twirling and tossing flames into the night sky.
