Phnom penh to siem reap

Phnom Penh has no sidewalks. However, it has Cold Stone Creamery, which I believe makes up for the omission. When it’s forty degrees Celsius you need ice cream. I ordered my standard selection at America’s favorite fine dining dessert establishment: French Vanilla with Oreos.

Phnom in one word: Contrast. Cambodia’s horrific war is over, and the capital exudes growth. Literally. There is construction nonstop. Lamborghinis and Tuk Tuk drivers share the unkempt roads. Slums are lined up next to hotels. Groups of children beg at twilight. Adults sell sneakers from empty storefronts. Food is plentiful, but varies wildly in price, substance, and quantity.

Frankly, most of my time in Phnom was spent resting and plotting my travel route. Contrary to internet hyperbole, one does not need to spend three days in Cambodia’s capital. At least not when enduring a 100-degree Fahrenheit flare up. Did I mention it was blazing hot? After a weekend of ice cream and air conditioning I was bused to Siem Reap, the famous temple town.

Swirling dust preceded my 6 p.m. arrival at a lively hostel. Sleep was tomorrow’s problem as I immediately booked back-to-back Angkor Wat tours, including one the next day for which I had to rise at 3 am in order to see the sunrise at Angkor Wat. Adrenaline arched my body at 2:00 and dragged me in its dark embrace to the 16th century citadels. Photographers and mosquitos gathered in dawn’s light. Heat broke over limestone spires.

The loquaciousness of our guide roused sleepy eyes. I explored endless corridors and tri-faced godheads gazed at me. Their eyes protruded from water, atop mountains, within giant trees, and through ghostly forests. Indiana Jones, Lord Of The Rings, and Tomb Raider couldn’t hold a candle to this UNICEF world heritage site. I’d recommend a visit if you’re ever in the area. Incredible.

After fourteen hours my stomach ached with hunger. Food is cheap in Siem Reap. It’s what you’d call a steal. A harsh reality coming from a place of privilege to a third world country. Breakfast was $2 for a sub sandwich, omelet, small salad, and two rolls of bread. Almost unethical. I tipped well.

February marked a month since I had left home. Friendships had been formed and lost. There were good days and bad days. Travel did not solve all my problems but functioned as a great tool for growth. Sitting in an unusually sterile airport, I knew that despite a few minor gripes, my global journey was still the best decision I had made in a long time. So far. As I waited for my plane, I pondered my newfound tenacity and maybe even courage, en route to Vietnam.

---