I don’t want to go to Chelsea

I’d much rather stay here in Phnom Penh, thank you. Occasionally I forget the amazing sights,sounds,smells,people,architecture,traffic that I am surrounded by in my daily life here in the city and drift away on sea of reverie to what I term ‘blue’. This definition comes from our honeymoon – we honeymooned in Cuba, and in two parts. Part One, in an all inclusive resort, Part Two, in Havana. Part atwo I may talk about at a later date. Part One was hedonism personified… eating, drinking, relaxing… as I swung lazily in a hammock on the edge of the Caribbean after the usual potent mix of Cuba Libre’s and Mojitos had been consumed my dear wife asked me (as is her wont) ‘what are you thinking about?’ The truth was that I was actually thinking of absolutely nothing. A very sweet but completely kooky lady that once gave me some advice on relaxation informed me that I had, or appeared to have, the ability to descend into ‘deep meditation’ apparently at will. My teachers used to refer to it, however, as ‘spacing out’. Anyway, back to Cuba. I felt that I should reply that I had been contemplating a)the vastness of the universe, b)man’s inhumanity to man or c)how on earth Thurso in Scotland has become a world renowned surfing spot, but as my brain was struggling to ignite and move those neurons around I simply said ‘blue’ (I was gazing up at a cloudless sky at this point).
So that’s it. ‘Blue’ can come upon me at any point – in a particularly boring meeting, in front of the computer/TV, but most alarmingly, usually on the back of a motorbike zipping at considerable speed through the dense and chaotic Phnom Penh rush hour (which is very hour) traffic. A friend of ours has made a DVD of Phnom Penh traffic – when I watched it I felt that perhaps turning ‘blue’ on the back of 

your Cyclo awaits, sir...
a speeding motorcycle is not such a good idea after all… maybe I should stick to cyclos…
‘set your motor runnin’, head out on the highway…’