Our last adventure left off in Malaysia, boarding a flight to Siem Reap, Cambodia. And this is where today’s story begins. On a flight, filled with dawn and brightness. Siem Reap’s airport is tiny and within minutes of landing, we were on a tuk-tuk, headed into town. Tuk-tuks are the most prevalent method of travel in this area—essentially a motorized pedicab. So slowly, but surely, we motored along toward the city, wild cows munching away alongside us as we rode past makeshift straw huts and dazzling golden tiered buildings, side-by-side.
I was unprepared for how charming Siem Reap turned out to be. Coming from the hustle and bustle of Kuala Lumpur, Siem Reap was like a little oasis. Much more greenery and tree cover than I’d expected, and an awfully sweet river running through town. Of course, it has its brightness and darkness, both. On a walk to town, we stumbled across poverty and luxury side-by-side quite often. Makeshift huts and camps would simply be built up in any convenient corner—sometimes in the shadow of golden tributes. And one must remember that as the town next to Angkor, there is a thriving tourism community. “Western” food is available everywhere (albeit, it’s not particularly good anywhere). Folks thought I’d have a tough time being a vegetarian in these regions, but tourism has changed the landscapes of these places dramatically. Parts of Tombraider were shot at Ta Prohm, and as a result, a slew of menu items are named for Angelina Jolie and/or Lara Croft.








And here, perhaps the moment Scott was waiting for all his life—a bunch of ravenous fish were downing his dead skin in a not-so-sterile tank by the side of Pub Street. As you wander down these streets, you’ll hear many locals call out at you, “Our fish so hungry!” “Please give Doctor Fish good food!” Yes—our icky travelers’ feet are just what their little medical-degreed fishy hearts desire. The next morning, we woke before dawn to be dazzled by the temples. And we were. Sure, we’d seen and heard so much of these in the past, I knew the build-up could be problematic. Only, no amount of prep or viewing of photographs can diminish the impact that these mystical places have.




So, let’s be clear. Angkor Wat is one (amazing) temple, but Angkor as the “city of temples” is not just one temple. It would seem this is a commonly mistaken assumption. There are dozens of individual temple complexes, developed as ancient places of worship and other activities, across a huge spanse of land (for example, one trek between two temples took us 45 minutes in a tuk-tuk). Many villages have sprung up between these temples, and so despite their history, majesty and reverence, you’ll easily find young local children playing in and among the fallen stones—when they’re not busy trying to sell you something.
These temples were actually developed not in one period, by one culture, but over a very long period of time, and during the rule of several differing cultures. The architecture and art you come across can vary quite a bit as a result, if you’re paying attention. There are both Hindu and Buddhist elements everywhere, as well as references to other worship as well. This is the largest religious monument in the world. It’s dizzying.






Many fallen stones have been marked in order to eventually become part of a reassembly attempt. In some of these images, you can see that there is uneven wear on many of the temple stones, re-stacked sometime in the not-so-distant past. There is a strange combination of places in utter ruin, beside a handful of somewhat revamped temples, restored to appear as they once might have been. For me, this was an odd feeling—I was here to see things in ruin. I didn’t expect to wander into some of these thousand-year-old temples to find cranes and workmen. It seemed so wrong, somehow, despite the fact that they are still often used as places of worship. I think what didn’t quite sit right with me was the feeling/threat of erasing the past. Of course, some places remained utterly untouched, allowed to morph, shift, change, and tumble—to let the years pass over them, grow into them, and do to them what years do best—transform quietly, slowly, and with grace.






We’d heard that we could expect a barrage of sales coming our way from the sweetest, saddest kids outside the most popular temples. It is suggested that you keep candy on hand to give them freely instead of purchasing anything. I later learned that the problem here is that parents will pull their children from school as kids make better sales than adults do. It’s so hard to imagine growing up in this culture that is so impacted by tourism that education is long-forgotten. To be fair, it may never have been much of a priority. I wish I’d had longer here to really see this for myself. As it was, all I had was a glimpse of conflict in these kids eyes—eagerness to make a sale to bring something back to their waiting parents, balanced by eagerness to be off playing games.


Delineating everything from everything else were vast rice fields, small, thatched huts, and occasionally a farmer or fisherman. I think these encounters were most significant for me—seeing people at work, running their day-to-day lives or at play, bathing in the waters that line the rice fields, beside these breathtaking monuments, utterly unimpacted by the majesty. Even unimpacted by the weather. There are two monsoon seasons in SE-A, depending on if you’re in the north or south. We caught the one that has downpour consistently every afternoon, despite the bluest skies otherwise. I think we adapted quickly… ish. But locals just pull on their rain smocks, and keep on motorcycling, even bicycling, down these unpaved roads that meander through the region. Have I mentioned that seatbelts don’t exist in this area, and multiple children are known to ride between two adults on one bicycle or scooter alone. I think the most I saw were three kids at once.






One of the best parts about being out here was the firm reminder of “what’s the rush?” Life is paced in this world. Along every road there are cafes—not like those you know in North America, but essentially the rest stops of motorcyclists and tuk-tuk riders. There they’ll sell some drinks, they’ll sell lots of gas in old soda bottles (we were initially creeped out by all the old bottles full of yellow liquid before realizing what they were), and most of all, people come there to stop and nap in the dozens of hammocks that are set up, awaiting tuckered behinds. As someone who has always had trouble napping, slowing down, taking it “easy”—this was a strange and intriguing world to indulge in. With the intensity of the heat being what it was, I recognized the need to slow down. You book a tuk-tuk driver for the day, and when they drop you in certain spots, they park and sleep, even in the back of their tuk-tuks.
As for temples, I think these below were my favourite ones. They weren’t the largest or even the most elaborate. Most people seemed to walk right by them in favour of the more spectacular ones nearby. But these took my breath away. I gazed into them and felt a sense of not just history, but personality. A soul gathered over the years that made them strong.






No matter how dazzled I was by the temples, I’m compelled to realize I was equally as dazzled by the people. Those hocking goods. Those playing in the waters. Those whizzing by on all manner of vehicles. I could’ve stayed here for so much longer—to watch the cops sit around just as lazily as the tuk-tuk drivers, to watch the kids wave from the back of a moped, to even watch the tourists overlook so much of the wildness tucked behind every tree and ancient stone. This is my most wistful regret—that we did not make more time for Cambodia in our travels.









But so it goes. This brief glimpse, this thunderous quiet of a world so different from my own—I’m so glad we went. To think that this whole trip only happened because my sister would be out there, and threw the nutty idea at me at the last minute. When I talk about my year of learning to say yes, to jump at opportunities that come at me—this is a shining example of why. There is so much world to know. So much world to understand. So much more to learn. We’re going into this May trek to Scandinavia with so much readiness for all that which we are unready for. I can’t wait to say yes to everything that comes my way.


These photos are M A G I C A L, each one separately, and wonderful all together. Thanks for taking *us* on this journey with you!
Thank you for joining me on the journey. ;)
I left a bit part of my heart in this country. Love that shot of the little girl coming down the stairs. It looks just like I remember
Do you ever feel like you leave such a part of your heart in every place you visit, you may run out of heart? Sometimes these places are so lovable, my heart aches when I leave, and I know that’s a missing piece of my heart for good. But then I feel like, imagine what it’ll be like to reunite with these places, one day. Like a long lost lover, returned.
YES! A piece of my heart is in many places and parks/trees, people and food that I’ve experienced in those cities.
Jasmine your photos are gorgeous and your words are wonderful – I want to climb into my computer screen and be there right now! Now I have another destination to add to my travel wish list…
And so funny about the little fish. I’ve always wanted to try that too!
Phoebe—thanks for ever and ever! I agree, it’s pretty easy for these lists to get out of control! Be warned, the Doctor Fish Massage can definitely seem a little sketch, and BOY did I freak out, putting my feet in that water… but when in Rome. It was fun and silly, and I’m pleased we did it.
Awesome photos. Better than National Geographic. The cows tell the story of how poor the country is. The fisherman with the cigarette in his mouth, the little girl stepping down on the stair, the reflections in the water of buildings and nature, all are superb. Cambodia was not on my bucket list, maybe it should be. Love, AE
Thank you so much Eleanor! I think you nailed it—you can see how skinny these cows are and it’s so startling compared to what we know. The details tell the stories.
I feel torn when I see things like that. I see the beauty of your photo and the sensitivity of your spirit which makes me happy. And then I see the reality beyond that photo and I’m sad. It’s what makes the story so real and true and important.
Thank you—I really value that you framed it that way. Some sad stories are important to tell. It’s easy to get caught up in the magnificent, but the realities are so significant, too.
oh!!! Some day I hope I get to visit this place, but for now I’ll make due with your gorgeous photos! Like a dream!
Thanks much much, Claire! I hope you will have the opportunity to visit. I didn’t know what I was getting into, but boy am I glad I went.
There’s something about SE Asia, they really do know how to slow down like nobody’s business. I remember this conflict between wanting to go places, do things, see the sights, immerse myself in the culture — and wanting to just relax. Take it easy. Do NOTHING while I think about everything I could be doing. Once I gave in to the slowing-down of things I realized that really was thee BEST way to immerse myself in the glory of Thailand.
These photos have left such a deep yearning inside of me to return someday and really dig deep into SE Asia. Thank you, Jas!
Thank you deeply, Kim. If I had to narrow it down to only one singular reason that I blog adventures, it is to stir in others the desire to adventure, too. It matters so much to me. I think adventuring is overlooked when thought of as something only “for fun.” There is so much opportunity to learn and grow and understand. For example, being exposed to the slow down of the culture. So I think that learning is just about the most important thing. Oh, and fun, too. So, this is a gift that your yearning is simmering for you.
oh my gawd i can not wait to read this. i’m at work, so i’m bookmarking it for later. eeee!!
Hah, hoorah! I hope it not only gets you excited, but Matt, too!
MAGIC. especially the second half of your post, after your favorite temple. such a feeling you get from those images. it’s like i can feel your awe.
I love that you delineated that transition, because it felt like that for me… something amazing just clicked, and everything felt so very… wow. Love you.
Girl, you are on fire!! Your love of story-telling is shining through again, as is your beauty as a person who notices the small things in people around you. I started looking through the images and thought of ones I would comment on specifically but so many of them grabbed me as I kept scrolling. Just incredible. How did they react to being photographed? I think I’ve become more nervous about photographing people’s faces over the years for fear of upsetting them. Did they ask to see their faces in the camera afterwards? Really hope you end up in my country next time you say yes to a crazy idea and we can go on a photo walk!
Oh, gosh, thank you! I know my storytelling can start to get away from me, my greatest challenge is to learn to be succinct. As for photographing people, I think in such an incredibly touristic place, you get some common reactions: utter indifference from most adults, but sometimes avoidance, general enthusiasm from children, but occasional avoidance. Some also feel that a photograph is a trade, and expect you to buy something from them if you take their photo. It’s a funny thing. For me, it’s easier to feel bold about it in a country where I don’t speak the language. But the more you do it, the more natural it gets. Always have a smile with an implied question mark as you shoot, and most are very accepting.
P.S. LOVED and really appreciated you sharing your thoughts on my most recent post. It means a lot, thank you. xx
Sooo beautiful. I really love your blog and your photos. I’m so glad I met you so I can see your view of the world! It’s really inspiring.
Thanks so much Victoria! I appreciate it lots and lots!
These are so good. What beautiful photos!
My dream is to go there! Beautiful photography!
It is absolutely a must—total magic.
Thank you for taking me there via these images, so much to appreciate, textures and sights.
Many thanks, Ashley!