I booked two nights online, a B&B close to the river and only 6 USD per night; reasonable indeed and all good reviews. After a three hour bus trip from Phnom Penh and a short Tuk Tuk ride I check into the B&B. A cold beer first at the bar before going to my room, the other drinkers, all residents make me welcome and help with my luggage. The proprietor brings my big heavy bag. Thank goodness! My first floor room is above two almost vertical flights of narrow stepped stairs. Oh and my private bathroom is back downstairs.

It's a short walk to a leafy, paved boardwalk and behind it the broad, blue and clean Kampot River. It feels good in this small clean provincial City. Resting riverside I enjoy four draught beers, nice and cold and only 50 cents each. I settle for a Greek Salad and glancing further through the menu discover "Happy Pizza" beginning at 4 USD. Researching online, Cambodia is often described as "Weed Friendly". At 2.5 USD, the Greek Salad proves good value and authentic, my first taste of olives and feta cheese for some time. There is a good selection of western foods here in Kampot.

Back at the B&B bar sitting next to a young clean style Brit, one visible tattoo only, I ask when "Happy Hour" begins. The draught beers here are 1 USD.

'Let it begin now!' The friendly Brit produces a small soft plastic "Medical Kit"; white cross on red background. Soon opened, the Brit begins rolling a joint at the bar.

Another expat arrives, sits on my other side and orders a beer. Sniffing the air he pulls out his stash, announcing, 'I got some new weed, smell this.'

Passing it along his other side, four or five drinkers mid thirties to sixties, sample the aroma and all ask what it is.

'It's the local weed, flavored with hashish oil' the new comer proudly answers. (Or something to that effect, I'm ignorant regarding these matters. Beer gets me into enough trouble.)

Soon it's only me without a joint at the bar, but I'm enjoying a passive high and recall a 1973 "Rolling Stones" concert in Sydney. Another passive high, thousands of joints, smoke drifting with the music.

After another draught beer and laughter with new found friends I suddenly get a reality check; the stairs. In our later years; we don't bounce anymore but break. I don't fancy climbing down the treacherous stairs in the middle of the night needing to take a leak. An early night for me, luckily the Wi-Fi works well in my room. I listen to YouTube historical documentaries to help fall asleep. Do you know LBJ was implicit in JFK's assassination?

Early next morning I search online and discover alternative accommodation nearby. Carefully down the stairs again, bathroom first, I find a modern guesthouse. Ground floor, with bathroom, internet and at nine USD a night, I immediately check in.

Back at the B&B to collect my luggage and check out, I mention to the proprietor, a young Dutch expat, possibly mid thirties that last night's clientele are colorful and entertaining.

'Last night is more like drug den then bar.' He explains, 'It happens often. I ask the (Khmer) landlord about this and he says if it's only weed and no selling, don't worry.' And after a pause, 'I don't use the stuff myself.'

Maybe not, but going by my experience he surely must experience a passive high whenever it's "Happy Hour" at his bar.

I jokingly say 'When you install an elevator, I will happily move back!'

'Don't worry! I'm working on it!' Dutch dry humor, a nice way to start a day.

Stairs aside I confess enjoying my short stay at the "Kampot Kenny's Guesthouse".

I stay eight days at The Borey Vattanac Guesthouse; no complaints. The Cambodian staff always obliging and their English pretty good. Across the road I frequent the "Aussi Bar". Yes! Incorrect spelling; "No worries!" It's a daily gathering of networking expats enjoying a beer, BYO weed and recounting Cambodian adventures. Two Brits narrate their "Happy Milkshake" experience.

'They didn't look like strawberry milkshakes, green not red. But they taste just like strawberry, very refreshing on a hot day but sadly no effect.' Says Jim, a huge jolly Welshman; mid sixties.

'So we each had another.' Adds Tony, a Geordie the same age but half the size of his friend.

'Big Mistake!'

Luckily we got back to our rooms before the weed kicked in. Jim here locked his door, didn't come out for 24 hours, a shocking case of paranoia.'

'And you!' Laughs Jim loudly. 'You played video games for the first time ever; played twelve hours straight. Thought ya self a teenager again.'

Apparently, ingested weed needs time to react. Served a generous helping of the green substance, one for the road would be a satisfactory result.

Later I move to Sihanoukville, a beach beautiful small city on the shores of the Gulf of Thailand. Weed friendly, a magnet for foreigners. I venture into a shack (bar) right on the sand. A dozen or more expats enjoy a beer and BYO weed. A friendly crew, they fire barbs across the rectangular bar, tell jokes and generally network. I'm told the proprietor a Brit previously sold weed to his customers but only at the price he paid for it, a simple customer relations gesture. That was until a visit from the police who advised him to discontinue selling and send his customers to a certain "Happy" pizza shop.

Doing business in Asia is difficult for foreigners; this shack's lease expires in two days and the Cambodian owner will take back the now busy bar. So I only get to enjoy this convivial setting another two nights including the farewell party. I never again discover such another genial group of drinkers in SHV (Sihanoukville), no plans to relocate to another bar, they disband after the farewell party. Incidentally the proprietor will start up a new bar in Kampot. Good luck to him, when I return to Kampot sometime in the future, I hope to catch up with Rick, an excellent host.

Meantime I like the look of SHV, long strolls along white sandy beaches and a relaxing dip in the calm, clean sea; maybe there's more opportunity here. See what happens!