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Time is slipping past in Phnom Penh and it feels like I'll be leaving on a high, although that also feels like a bit of a wrench. I wonder if I will be wearing heavy rose-tinted spectacles back in the UK and whether I'll even start to miss tuk tuk drivers and their barking across the street at unwitting pedestrians.

I'm not sleeping. I feel like Margaret Thatcher and her reputed very few hours per night.

We differ on our politics...

Talk of an Indian summer in the UK is providing some cheer.