On this day, one year ago today, I woke up a little bit late.

I rode to work in a bit of a hurry, and on my way got cut off by a car. Getting cut off by cars happens pretty much every day, but on this day I had new brakes that I was unfamiliar with, which were significantly more effective than my old ones. That combined with rushing to not be late, meant that braking hard got me up on just the front wheel and then sent me over the handle bars, landing hard enough on my knees that I got several fractures in my acetabulum (ie. my Hip socket/pelvis).

This moment, at five to nine in the morning on a Friday, changed my life in a number of unexpected ways. Being completely crippled and dependant on others got me seriously thinking about the things I'd like to do but had been putting off until "the right time", many of which are dependant on being able-bodied, and I wondered a lot about how well I would recover and how those things I'd like to do might now never happen.

I'm jumping out of order for a bit for a quick story about the joys of security theater in Indian airports.

I get dropped off at the airport by a taxi and head towards the door in which I can see signs pointing to departures and arrivals. I go to enter and the security guy on the door, holding what I think was an MP-5 machine gun, wants to see ticket and passport. Having only booked my ticket online hours earlier and having no printer I had no ticket to show him. He says I can show him on my phone, I pull up Trip-It and show him the flight details and confirmation number but he's not happy because there's no name listed so he sends me around to the ticket desk to get a ticket printed. After trying the next two entrances in the direction he gestured I realise the desks are basically just invisible slots in the glass front of the building.

There's a guy in there on his phone, but he doesn't look over when I say nameste, nor when I knock on the window. A rather stressed out looking Indian man comes over and tries as well but the guy inside completely ignores both of us. Nice to know it's not just because I'm a foreigner.

On my last day in Siem Reap I decided to rent myself a mountain bike and pedal myself out to the ruins. The flatness of the countryside made riding a little easier, but the heat was certainly challenging. I rode in to Angkor Thom, the largest of all the ancient sites, and headed for the east gate (not the victory gate, which is also on the east wall, which is the one the roads pass through).

The trail leading up to it was rough and bumpy with lots of large rocks and didn't seem like it got too much traffic. Upon reaching the gate, I was met by the spectacular sight of the massive gate poking out of the jungle, without a huge clearing around both sides as all the other gates seem to have. I got off my bike and explored for a bit, and sat down to reapply sunscreen and got hassled by a bunch of butterflies that just kept on landing on me and my stuff, the bullies!

Upon arriving at Duong Dong Airport in Phu Quoc I got a taxi to my hotel, the A74. I checked in and was shown to my room by a very friendly concierge. The room smelt a bit funny so went back down and asked if I could change rooms and they put me in a much bigger room, which still has some odd odour in it that I cant identify but I guess the whole place might have that smell.

I did some washing in the bathroom sink and nearly accidentally tore it off the wall. it turns out it was only held up by the plumbing and two flimsy little brackets, which I bent a bit (and then bent back as well as I could).

For the trip to Phu Quoc I decided to fly since it was only $80 and it would save me many many hours on buses and ferries. For a laugh I looked at business class prices and they were only $30 more. I'd never flown business class before so I thought "YOLO!" and booked myself a business class ticket.