Before leaving Phnom Penh, believing that the roads from hereon in were sealed, it was time to wash the truck.

With a few exceptions, there has been a distinct shortage of decent graduates from the "School of Car Washing" on my route so far. Finding a huge car-washing compound in Phnom Penh, the pressure-hose-brigade were let loose to do their worst. And their worst they did.

They have all the kit, but are clueless in its correct usage. Tantamount to opening the oven door, throwing in half a bag of flour, flicking in some butter, pouring in some milk, dropping in a couple of spoons of sugar and a chocolate bar, shutting the door, and hoping to come back an hour later to a black-forest gateau.

If my neighbour's cat had jumped into a bucket of water, and then rolled over my truck a dozen times, the result would have been better.

However, maybe the team here knew something I didn't - washing the truck before attempting Highway-48 was a complete waste of time. There is less tarmac on this road than there is in your average ice cream.

One of the four river crossings along Highway-48.

Time to brush up on your negotiation skills.

"Unless you have an inflatable raft in that trailer, sir, I believe you may be in need of our services."

'Trump cards' and 'don't have' are words which spring to mind.

Highway-48, finished 12 months ago, leads to the Thai border at Hat Lek.

The same Thai border where the border guard captain insisted that I go back to their barracks for a coffee.

Yes, although the Cambodian people are friendly, Thailand still comes out on top in the game of genuine hospitality.

After blowing bubbles amongst the fish off Ko Chang island, it's back to Bangkok next. Then, before continuing to Australia, it's time to hop onto a paraffin budgie: homebound for a few weeks.

I've been told that my lawn needs mowing.