There are places in the world that don’t just ask you to visit—they invite you to feel. Cambodia is one of those places. Thick with memory, gilded with devotion, and humming with life, it offers a kind of travel that moves beneath the surface. This isn’t a country for rushing through. It’s a country for pausing, listening, and letting the stories rise from the land itself.
We didn’t arrive in Cambodia seeking answers, but we left with a heart full of questions—the kind that stay with you. What does it mean to preserve faith after devastation? How do people hold onto joy and kindness in the face of such complexity? How can a place so deeply scarred also feel so deeply generous?
Our time here unfolded slowly—temples wrapped in gold, chaotic tuk-tuk rides, long conversations over market fruit, and sunrises that painted history in light. We travelled not by itinerary, but by instinct. Some days were sobering. Some were wild and full of wonder. All of them stitched together a deeper sense of presence.
This is Cambodia, as we experienced it—ancient, resilient, and kind.
Phnom Penh: The Layers of the Present
We began our journey in Phnom Penh, the capital—a city that pulses with commerce, culture, and deep historical layers. This is a place shaped by shifting boundaries, evolving religious practices, and a long-standing reverence for its royal lineage. Cambodia remains one of the few nations with an active monarchy. The King, a symbolic guardian of tradition, stands as a reminder of the country's spiritual alignment and its resilience through time.
The Royal Palace, still home to the royal family, is open to visitors and stands as a stunning example of this unity between power and the people. Gilded roofs glint in the sun, not merely as displays of grandeur, but as reflections of Buddhist generosity and national pride.
Temples here rise like golden prayers into the sky—rich in gilt, intricate in detail, and full of quiet reverence. They shine with a light that speaks of hope and the promise of a peaceful future.
The Old Market & Local Rituals
At Phsar Chas, the Old Market, the past reveals itself in the most everyday of rituals. Haggling becomes a kind of social dance, a game played with merchants that might feel awkward at first to the Western visitor, but soon turns into a way to connect. For many locals, this daily engagement is not just about groceries—it’s a cultural ritual, akin to their offerings at the temples.
As a vegan, the raw display of meat challenged me. But beyond that, the fruit and vegetables were a visual feast, arranged in bursts of colour and texture—almost meditative in their artistry. The market is a sensory overload: the scent of herbs, the calls of vendors, the warmth of human connection all tumbling over each other in the narrow passageways.
Tuk-Tuks & the Art of the Hustle
The streets of Phnom Penh move like water. Tuk-tuks swarm the roads like schools of fish, dodging one another with seemingly psychic foresight. Their drivers are masters of visibility, spotting tourists a mile off. You become part of their daily game: “The place is closed,” they might say, coaxing you into a pricey detour. You’ll fall for it once, laugh about it later, and then you’ll learn the game.
We found using local ride apps helpful, allowing us to pre-set our route and pay by card, bypassing negotiation fatigue while still supporting local drivers.
Juxtapositions of Wealth in Phnom Penh
What surprised us most was the abundance of luxury vehicles—custom G-Wagons, Lamborghinis, even Aston Martins—cruising past families sleeping on the streets. This sharp contrast sparked quiet curiosity more than criticism. Locals explained it plainly: most of these cars belong to politicians or their children. There was no tone of resentment in their words, just acceptance. In other parts of the world, such disparities might spark protests. Here, they coexist, oddly peacefully.
Finding Stillness in the City of Phnom Penh
Our accommodation—a modern apartment hotel—allowed us to stay true to our lifestyle: plant-based meals, a world-class gym, rooftop infinity pool, and plunge pools for contrast therapy. After long days exploring by tuk-tuk, it was the perfect balance of vitality and rest.
We chose to stay about 10 minutes from the city centre, far enough for peace, close enough for convenience. The views at dusk—soft pastel skies over a skyline of spires—were unforgettable.
Wandering Through History: Sites of Phnom Penh
The Old French Quarter feels like a film set—its colonial buildings browned by time and weather. Flowering trees border the square, now home to only a handful of cafes as the heart of Phnom Penh grows elsewhere.
We climbed to Wat Phnom Daun Penh, set atop a man-made hill. Inside, walls burst with rich murals of the Buddha’s journey. Legend says this temple was founded by Daun Penh, a widow who discovered five Buddha statues inside a log floating down the river in 1372.
We visited Wat Ounalom, established in 1443, which is considered the headquarters of Cambodian Buddhism. It’s said to house one of Buddha’s eyebrow hairs. The architecture echoed Angkorian influence—tall, ornate, and dignified.
The Royal Palace itself, first built in the late 19th century and later rebuilt, sits on the confluence of the Tonle Sap and Mekong Rivers. Open to the public, it blends grandeur with accessibility, framed by gold-tipped spires and lotus ponds.
Outside the city, we found the Golden Temple—a peaceful, spacious complex with vivid friezes, riverside stupas, and barely another soul in sight. It was a place to slow down, breathe, and reflectA Day Trip to Oudong Mountain
A short drive from Phnom Penh led us to Oudong Mountain, Cambodia’s former royal capital. On the way, we visited a family-run silver-making home. Their hands crafted beauty from metal—bowls, deities, jewellery. I left with a small gift, touched by their warmth.
The climb up Oudong is steep and hot. Monkeys linger near the path. At the summit, a series of temples overlook the valley. It’s believed the Khmer empire moved here after Angkor’s fall. One temple was being lovingly restored when we arrived. A guide is recommended—the stories deepen the steps.
On the return, we visited the Vipassana Dhurak Buddhist Centre, a serene retreat offering silent meditation stays. Giant Buddha statues gazed calmly over the grounds. I lingered in the stillness, tempted to stay longer.
From Phnom Penh to Siem Reap
We travelled to Siem Reap by private car—a 5–6 hour drive across Cambodia’s interior. Along the way, we stopped at a local food market where fried tarantulas, once a survival necessity during wartime, are still sold. The stories reminded us of how adaptation is a form of resilience.
We also visited Spean Praptos, the thousand-year-old Dragon Bridge. Still in use today (by foot and motorbike only), it stands as a marvel of Khmer engineering.
Slowing Down in Siem Reap
Most visitors breeze through Siem Reap, but we stayed longer. We found stillness in a modern apartment hotel and allowed ourselves to ease into the pace.
Before seeing Angkor, we visited the Angkor National Museum—a brilliant move. It gave us historical context and deepened our appreciation. The Khmer Empire’s advanced systems—water reservoirs, astrological knowledge, irrigation—were astounding.
Angkor Wat: The Heart of It All
Angkor Wat is staggering. Your ticket, complete with ID photo, is checked at every entrance. The complex spans over 400km² and includes dozens of temples.
Even with parts closed for preservation or ceremony—as was the case during our visit—you feel its scale, mystery, and genius. Settled in the 9th century and active until the 15th century, Angkor was abandoned due to war. Rediscovered in the 1800s, it’s now protected by UNESCO.
The unfinished structures suggest an empire with dreams larger than its time. Yet what remains is extraordinary. Some temples are beautifully preserved; others are locked in a battle with the jungle.
Siem Reap’s Contradictions
Siem Reap is both a gateway and a contradiction. The soul of Angkor breathes just beyond a city now shaped by tourism. Pub Street, lined with massage parlours, burger joints, and souvenir stalls, feels disconnected from the sacredness nearby.
And yet—there’s beauty. At the Made in Cambodia Market, I met a young woman selling silk scarves woven by women living with HIV. We talked for ages. The scarf cost more than any others in town. I didn’t hesitate.
A Glimpse into Life on Water: Kompong Phluk Floating Village
One of our most humbling experiences in Siem Reap was a visit to the floating village of Kompong Phluk, located along the edge of Tonle Sap Lake. This community, built entirely on stilts, rises and falls with the lake’s seasonal rhythms. During the wet season, homes appear to float, boats replace motorbikes, and daily life unfolds across the water.
We explored the village on foot, walking through the dusty street that, within months, will be submerged under 5 meters of water. Children rode bikes and ran around us as we were the only visitors on that day. Fishermen cast nets from narrow wooden boats in what remains of the water, and as we got onto the shrunken lake, small floating shops and restaurants drifted past like scenes from another world. There’s a raw simplicity to life here—completely at the mercy of nature, and yet profoundly in tune with it.
Tourism brings both support and strain to places like this, so we travelled with a local guide and chose a small operator known for ethical tours. It felt important to approach with respect, curiosity, and care.
What We Skipped (And Why)
We didn’t visit the Killing Fields or the Genocide Museum. Not because they aren’t important—they are—but because our previous weeks in Vietnam had been heavy with war history, and our hearts needed space. These stories are essential. But we also honoured our own capacity.
Cambodia carries its pain quietly. It doesn’t push it on you. But if you listen, it’s always there—beneath the gold, beneath the kindness.
Reflections on Cambodia
Cambodia asked us to move slowly. To feel more than we saw. To respect its complexity and honour its spirit. It gave us golden light, difficult truths, and soft laughter under fans in tiny cafes.
If I had to sum Cambodia up in three words, they would be:
Ancient. Resilient. Kind.
