Enter your mobile number or email address below and we'll send you a link to download the free Kindle App. Then you can start reading Kindle books on your smartphone, tablet, or computer - no Kindle device required. To get the free app, enter your mobile phone number. FREE Shipping on orders with at least $25 of books. Author interviews, book reviews, editors picks, and more.DetailsBikes of Burden FREE Shipping on orders over . DetailsCambodia: A Journey through the Land of the Khmer FREE Shipping. The Coast News Review In an age and country where we fret about the merits of organic versus inorganic, worry about toxins in toys, and debate the merits of "Eat, Pray, Love," we sometimes need a reality check about how the rest of the world lives. You can get a glimpse of real life in one corner of Asia in "Carrying Cambodia," a collection of 144 images shot by two photographers who are enchanted by the country's street culture. Cruise through the pages of their softcover book and discover just how colorful and resourceful Cambodians can be.

Each photo is a trip in itself. There's a family of six perched on a motorbike built for two. Need to move a refrigerator, mattress or couch? just balance them on a motorbike and go. You drive and a friend holds the bag. Both photographers are world travelers and have intense interest in Asian cultures. Irishman Conor Wall, 30, came to Cambodia while en-route to Australia in 2005. "The moment I crossed the Thai border into Cambodia for the first time, I knew there was something special about this country," he wrote in an e-mail. "The longer I stayed, the more of the language I learned and the easier it was to be accepted into people's lives. (I wanted to) capture everyday people doing everyday things." Most of Wall's photos were taken from the back of a motorbike. Others were captured from bridges, the roof of a mini bus and while on foot. The photos were to appear in a book on Asian transportation published by Hans Kemp, but "it was near impossible to minimize my selection," Wall said.

"After seeing the variety of Khmer transportation... Hans decided to scrap the original book idea and concentrate on Cambodia. street fighter motorcycle for sale ontarioOnce he pitched the name 'Carrying Cambodia' to me, I knew it had to be done." ducati monster for sale missouriWall met Dutch-born Kemp, 47, a much published and exhibited photographer, at a festival in Phnom Penh in 2008. the motorcycle show nec 2013They went for a beer and have been friends and professional associates ever since. red wing boots grove city paKemp also spent hours on motorbikes to capture traveling Cambodians riding and driving every sort of downsized, motorized and non-motorized transportation. motorcycle shops in sedona az

"Life in Cambodia, as in S.E. Asia in general, takes place on the street and not so much behind closed doors as in the West," Kemp said in an e-mail. motorcycles for sale in fargo moorhead"That makes it interesting for a photographer. winston salem motorcycle classThere is always something to see." Cambodians make such wonderful subjects because they have a "welcoming and open attitude, as long as you show appreciation for their country and are willing to smile a lot." The veteran photographer has some advice for novices. "Photography cuts out all the senses but sight," Kemp said, "so you have to exaggerate by getting close, using a different perspective, cutting out all the clutter..." --The Coast News Group, September 2010 Dutch photographer Hans Kemp has been photographing Asia for well over twenty years.

His numerous books have received wide acclaim. Currently based in Bangkok, Hans continues to shoot for both editorial and commercial clients. Irish photographer Conor Wall has been photographing all corners of Cambodia from his home in Phnom Penh. This is his first book. Publisher: Visionary World (May 30, 2010) 8 x 0.8 x 8 inches Shipping Weight: 15.2 ounces (View shipping rates and policies) Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #1,198,194 in Books (See Top 100 in Books) in Books > Travel > Asia > Cambodia in Books > Engineering & Transportation > Transportation > Mass Transit in Books > Arts & Photography > Photography & Video > Lifestyle & Events > Lifestyle 5 star94%4 star6%See all verified purchase reviewsTop Customer ReviewsCaptures Cambodia's Wonderfully Chaotic Transportation SceneUnbelievable, but entirely true!|Cambodia on the MoveGreat Moments, Great Pictures|Excellent mirror of Cambodia's street lifeDelightful!| Cambodia: A Journey through the Land of the Khmer

Trade was brisk at Chbar Ampov Market in Phnom Penh, Cambodia’s busy capital city. Beneath colourful layers of tarpaulin and scraps of corrugated iron, traders swatted flies while flinging dragon fruit, lychees and rambutans into dishes for weighing. The mostly female vendors wore patterned pyjamas and floppy hats – cheap clothes that offered protection from the blazing sun. Men lined the periphery on their motorbikes taxis, squatting over dismembered engine parts or stacking planks of wood. Smells of fresh meat, exhaust fumes and incense wafted through the air.It was 9 am and my friend Jeremiah and I were at the market entrance, watching the activity. It was April – the hot season – when breakfast seemed seasoned with sweat. Since the heat puts most travellers off visiting Phnom Penh this time of year, we were the only ones waiting for Kimley, our Backstreet Academy tour guide. The company connects travellers with artisan activities throughout South East Asia, including a knife-making workshop in Siem Reap and fishing on the Mekong.

Jeremiah and I were going to visit a family of insect traders, and learn how to cook the critters. View image of A dish of good grub (Credit: Credit: Nathan A Thompson) Eating insects in Southeast Asia, of course, is nothing new. But in a country where insects were sometimes referred to as “hunger food” during the famine created by the late 1970s Khmer Rouge regime – the bugs today are seen as a cheap and plentiful source of protein, amino acids and micronutrients, especially for the for the 79% of Cambodian children that suffer some form of malnourishment. In fact, the United Nations’ Food and Agriculture Organization now uses the pleasingly alliterative epithet, “six-legged livestock”.Kimley arrived on a small, sleek moped. He was earnest young man with glasses; slim as his ride. We followed him on our motorbikes, passing dusty buildings with candy-coloured roofs and needling through the crowded streets stitched to the banks of the Bassac, one of three rivers that meet at the low-rise Cambodian capital.

Driving slowly to avoid the children and chickens, we turned down an alley that led towards the riverbank. Ahead of us was a collection of single-storey, single-room dwellings. The outer walls of the buildings were decorated with red tiles and the security bars were painted yellow. Several families worked outside in the shade of neighbouring buildings. Women crushed garlic and chopped bales of spring onions; toddlers ran in and out of doorways. Large bowls and baskets full of insects and frogs were strewn around. View image of Happily picking from the baskets of beetles (Credit: Credit: Tang Chhin Sothy/AFP/Getty Images) Vannet Sokna, a slight man in a checked shirt whose 30-year-old-face was aged with hard living, emerged from one of the houses. He was to be our host. We sat down in the traditional way, cross-legged on a raised wooden platform.“I used to work in Korea as a labourer,” he told us, Kimley translating. “But I missed my family, so I returned to Cambodia and now I sell insects and frogs wholesale and as snacks.”

He ran his hand through a basket of beetles that glittered like seaside pebbles. Behind us a woman flicked crushed garlic into a bowl of small, dead frogs. As she mixed them, they made a slurpy squishy sound.“Wild crickets are most popular,” Sokna said. “They sell for $15/kg raw and $50/kg cooked.” He snapped one like a pistachio and pointed to its foam-textured inside. “These are the eggs – extra delicious.” View image of A morning at the market (Credit: Credit: Jeremiah Overman) Sokna gets his beetles and crickets from a supplier in Takeo province, south of Phnom Penh. He described how the insects are caught by shining a blue fluorescent light through a sheet of plastic hung from a bamboo frame. The insects fly towards the light, hit the plastic and drop into a tub of water below. Ice is then poured over the bounty, finishing off any insects that are still alive while keeping them fresh and ready to sell.Slants of sunlight flashed from the steel counter of Sokna’s portable kitchen, which was attached, sidecar-style, to a skeletal motorbike.

At one end of the counter was a wok-sized indent with a gas ring; the canister was stashed below. Sokna flicked a cigarette lighter and angled the flame gingerly towards the metal ring, swiftly retracting his arm as it lit with a whoosh. View image of Sokna's portable kitchen (Credit: Credit: Nathan A Thompson) He placed a wok, half-full of glistening vegetable oil, on the heat. Bowls of crickets – from giant wild to smaller farmed – were already laid out. There were also bowls of silkworm pupae and beetles that had been pre-cooked and canned in the countryside.“We don’t buy silkworm and beetles raw,” explained Sokna. “Cans are better because they are easy to prepare and last longer.” These were for the tasting session later.He then produced small plastic sacks of seasoning which were stashed inside the portable kitchen and laid them next to the bowls of brown, leg-dangling crickets. I could see flour, salt, sugar and something labelled Umami Seasoning that smelled like spicy sawdust.“

Watch me,” Sokna said, adding one tablespoon of salt, two of sugar and half of the umami, followed by a dash of water. Pushing a hand deep into the mushy melange, he dumped in some flour and continued to mix. Presumably the idea was to coat the critters in something resembling batter, but the flour merely clumped in small, white globules. View image of Finishing the next batch (Credit: Credit: Tang Chhin Sothy/AFP/Getty Images) The crickets hit the scalding oil, making a sound like a rainstorm. The wok became a mass of white, burning bubbles. After five minutes Sokna scooped some up using a wire skimmer and tossed them. They were crispy enough to bounce and skim around the metal wire. None of the flour remained on the crickets; it had merely formed a ring of hard, pus-coloured batter around the wok. Half the oil was gone, absorbed into the insects. Sokna nodded: they were ready. View image of A deep fried cricket (Credit: Credit: Nathan A Thompson) Jeremiah repeated the method, followed by me.

It was not so much a cookery lesson as a chance to cover crickets in questionable seasoning and fry them in thick, cheap oil in a Phnom Penh back alley. But we weren’t disappointed. In Cambodia, you don’t go into these situation expecting extra virgin olive oil and Himalayan rock salt.  I certainly wasn’t feeling hungry as I looked at the freshly fried bugs bundled in a bowl. Jeremiah grinned and popped one in his mouth, posing with it like a cigarette before chowing down. He nodded and shrugged. Encouraged by his nonchalant reaction I started munching, splintering the crisp shell with my teeth and chewing on the mushiness inside. It tasted pleasant, like a cardboard box that had once contained fried chicken. The silkworms were palatable too – like meaty sweetcorn. And there we were, sweating, feasting on grubs and six-legged hoppers on the banks of the Bassac. Sokna offered us a party bag of beetles, crickets and silkworms. We left on our motorcycles with bags of bugs swinging from the handlebars.