Cambodia craziness!

57 countries, countless misadventures, read about one of them here!

Originally written in 2009, posted on Facebook in 2012, updated for LiveJournal in 2018, and now shared in 2026, for your amusement, (outdated cultural references included)!

Location - Cambodia, more specifically, Angkor Wat.
Date - Late July, 2009.
Time - Circa noon.

I tend to travel without plans, flying by the seat of my pants, so to speak, to see where the moment takes me. Sometimes it takes me to some pretty stressful places, as evidenced by the following story.


Biking through Angkor Wat on the last day of my three-day journey, my muscles ached with a throbbing intensity not fit for mere mortals. Sadly, my dear reader, I was but a mere mortal, and certainly not one of those muscle-bound freaks you so often see on Jersey Shore.

However, my eyes were too busy enjoying the visual feast that lay before me to focus on such sharp pains for very long. After all, this was history coming alive for your humble narrator, and a chance to touch some of the most amazing, mind-blowing structures known to mankind. Instead of merely looking at maps of Southeast Asia for hours on end and being content with simply dreaming, I was setting foot on actual Southeast Asian soil! With eagerness, I hopped off my bike and ran, not walked, to the next stunning display, camera clutched tightly in hand.

The sun was shining just right (actually, I had to squint my eyes just a little), the birds were singing a lovely lullaby that had yet to annoy me, and even better, the touts were too busy with other tourists. To make matters perfect, a gentle wind stroked my exhausted, sweating body, offering temporary relief from the intense summer rays. This was a perfect moment, and I took advantage of the opportunity, snapping not one...not two or even three, but six of the most amazing shots I have ever taken. Now I had photos to match my huge world map besides my bed!

I walked back with a subtle smile because I never openly gloat too much. But inside, a fire of happiness and passion raged on, for I had enjoyed the perfect moment, epic in its simplicity, perhaps impossible to duplicate, and filling my very soul with accomplishment.

I took my camera and reached for… my… bag? It was supposed to be on my… back. "What the hell?" I thought to myself. "My bag! Where is it?"

More importantly, that green stuff that kept these travels going, as well as those lovely cards with the logos (don't get me wrong, I am not materialistic, but I kind of enjoy eating and beds) was in that bag! "F***" I said to myself! Panic washed over my body and entire being, heart jumping out of its chest, I jolted into action, one foot rapidly (clumsily) in front of the other. I would have beaten any famous Kenyan marathoner back to my bike. Well, okay, maybe not. But for the sake of the story, let us just assume it is true. Thanks!

Anyway, I am sure countless onlookers had a nice, long laugh at the crazy foreigner bolting through the ruins of Angkor Wat! But never mind them, I thought, as I abruptly stopped to take off my sandals. Perhaps in a panicked frenzy, I hoped I could move my ultra-fatigued body back to my bike more efficiently, without the ridiculous sounds of uneven flip-flop, flip-flip-flop. In hindsight, that probably worked against me, and I had some temporary battle wounds to prove that for several weeks after. Plus, I imagine I looked like even more of a lunatic, racing through Angkor Wat, sandals in hand. Nonetheless, my bike was in sight. My heart pounding like a jackhammer, I reached my hand out for the bike, like an Olympic swimmer reaching for the gold!

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled. Took a deeper breath in, for the hell of it (I lie; I was not that calm or patient). Opened my eyes and… FML.

Seriously… ahhh… just kidding, got you! My glorious bag was still in the bike’s basket. Wait, victory was not mine yet, I reminded myself, and I started rifling through it in extreme dread. Nothing. Nothing. I could not find a thing!

To this day, I still say that in this instance of life, I experienced possibly the most dramatic, awe-inspiring shift in emotions ever. I took a deep sigh, I slowed down, and found my belongings, somehow still intact, right down to every Cambodian note (In 2009, 1 USD = 4000).

Somehow, I could not believe my absolutely profound (dumb) luck. I had left my bag in one of the most famous tourist sites in the world, on a trodden path, and somehow, I still came out on top! My heart was beating, still, but with a heavy feeling of relief. I imagined all the possibilities, including ways in which this story could have gone wrong, and each time I imagined disaster, my heart just kept pounding. I kept reminding myself, "I am one lucky bastard."

Surely I learned from this experience; alas, I had a similar one in Bogota, Colombia, in 2016. Was the outcome the same? Stay tuned!