trip Archives - Burning the Map

February 21, 2020February 21, 2020

In Summary: Europe

If you ask me to pick my favorite memory from my adventure through Europe, I would stare at you as if defective. I was there for almost 6 months. That period of time exists in my mind as a blurred frenzy of history, Flixbus, walking tours, water, Oktoberfest, and, strangely (but deliciously) kebabs. Add them all together and I think I had a relatively well-balanced tour of customs and shenanigans.

The amount of Europe I traversed would maybe cover approximately one third of the US. But within that space, each country basically has their own distinct language and culture. I spent the majority of my days between The Netherlands, Germany, and Poland — I’ll expand a bit on those.

The Dutch lead a very free spirit existence, obviously, but it’s not just because they’re high everyday. They like to go about life in an uncomplicated way. Plus, they’re fit because of all the biking they do. In additional to the ample cycle paths, the canals also create a beautiful layout to the city. Each street seems to have a unique character based on either the length, width, or bridges that surround the water.

There’s more nature to enjoy in the many parks scattered throughout. Lying in a green space soaking up the sun is a super chill way to spend an afternoon. Obligatory mention of weed again. If art is more your speed, you’ll be spoiled for choice in terms of museums; you can visit Rijks, Van Gogh, and Rembrandt. I was in a period of adjusting to the Euro so I didn’t partake myself, which is an unfortunate fact of life. It just means there’s a plethora of fresh activities waiting for me when I return. Amsterdam tops my list of cities I would most like to live if I ever move to Europe.

With all of that being said, I found the German culture the easiest to acclimate to. Even though you can find more structure and efficiency in the mundane — the checkout line in the grocery store for example — the charms of the cities and neighborhoods reminded me more of home. I settled into a routine there quite quickly. It was comfortable to hang out in the “alternative” areas of St. Paul in Hamburg or Kreuzberg in Berlin. The street murals and dive bars were a welcome reflection of the artistic vibe I’m used to.

Maybe my affinity for beer is to blame, but to me, one of the best features is the ability to drink publicly in open spaces while enjoying the company of friends. The beer prices are pretty absurd too. I mean, you can get a .5L can for around €.30 and recycle it for a €.25 refund. So…you’re just about breaking even. It was a different story at Oktoberfest, however, where a stein was almost €13. For more on that drunken carnival, you can read this post.

Onto Polska, the land of gołąbki and pierogi. The history of this place is a vicious rollercoaster of invasion, brief independence, and occupation once again. Thus, resilience is a common characteristic of the people. I’ll add resourcefulness and tenacity to the mix as well. I’m pretty sure every Polish grandmother has a hardy exterior with a compassionate interior. One thing is for sure: they want you to be well-fed. I volunteered at a language camp in the countryside for a week and the 3 ladies in the kitchen were constantly plopping an extra portion on my plate. I tried to convince them I was a little fat with a complete absence of muscle but, you know, the language barrier and such.

On top of teaching English to the intelligent and charismatic youth of the country, I also worked at a hostel for a month in Krakow.

What a city.

I have trouble expressing the feeling of walking among the cobbled streets and stone walls of the old town. Suffice to say I was excited to just meander. It was like wandering through history with the amenities of the future. I don’t think you can find that combination anywhere in the U.S. Krakow might seem like kind of a hipster pick of European cities to visit, but it’s starting to make some lists. I can’t help but recommend it as well.

Another very on-the-grid tourist hot spot I visited was Prague. It has been widely discussed as a popular destination for good reason. Besides the architecture and vibe, which parallel Krakow somewhat, there are various unique attractions. I found the bridges and Prague castle mesmerizing. Six hours of exploring and taking pictures evaporated in a flash there.

The same can be said for Zadar and Split, a pair of Croatian coastal towns on the Adriatic Sea. The old forums and slender network of streets in the historic centers boasted a Romanic feel. And romantic. I’ll say it. Unfortunately, I was a little late for sailing season, but sunsets from shore were still absolute perfection.

Even though the sun has now set (for now) on my expedition through the Old Continent, I think my favorite memory is that I have so many to reminisce on: the weight of my backpack changing as I took out my camera; the way a group of fellow hostel-stayers assembled to enjoy a night out; the realization that I was standing atop historical significance; the subtle burn on my forehead as the sun reflected off the water; the atmosphere of a specific location that swept me away. This period of my life will always be marked by the liberation and influence of these experiences. That is the essence of travel.

By the Numbers

Days in Europe: 169
Countries Visited: 7
Cities Visited: 15
Days at Workaways: 58
Days Housesitting: 17
Social Network Meetups: 9
Euros Spent: ~€4476.02
USD Spent: ~$5016.70

Here’s the map of things I did in Germany, as it was the most extensive:
(click the top left button of the map to expand the list view)

Favorite Cities: 1. Amsterdam 2. Krakow 3. Prague 4. Ghent 5. Berlin 6. Split 7. Hamburg 8. Brussels 9. Zagreb 10. Sarajevo	Favorite Attractions: 1. Oktoberfest, Munich 2. Brown Bars of Brussels 3. Main Square, Krakow 4. Prague Castle, Prague 5. Vondelpark, Amsterdam 6. The Metronome, Prague 7. Old Town, Mostar 8. Plitvice Lakes, Croatia 9. East Side Gallery, Berlin 10. Elbphilharmonie, Hamburg
Favorite Walking Tours: 1. Mostar, Bosnia & Herzegovina 2. Amsterdam, Netherlands 3. Alternative Tour, Berlin, Germany 4. Hamburg, Germany 5. Zadar, Croatia	Favorite Museums: 1. Oskar Schindler Enamel Factory 2. Ghent Museum of Design 3. Auschwitz + Auschwitz II Birkenau 4. Museum of Broken Relationships 5. SMAK

Lastly, below is an album of what I deemed to be the best photos taken during this leg of the journey.

January 13, 2020April 1, 2020

In Summary: Morocco

I’m not sure what was more uncomfortable, standing there knowing I was being scammed (twice) or peeing out of my butt for two days in a row. Either way, it was all happening in Morocco.

Distilling the essence of “The Western Kingdom” is difficult since I had such a mixed experience, not to mention I was only there for 12 days. My exposure to the country was limited to the specific cities and activities I did.

To start with, I was inundated with shades of orange among the dirt roads and walls of the old cities. That ever-present color palette created the perception of sandy air. It’s like there was a desert nearby or something.

Even though I didn’t have enough time for a proper trip out to the Sahara, I saw a decent amount of barren landscapes on day excursions and train rides. Side note: public transportation a la buses and trains was surprisingly simple and reliable. However, certain passenger trains had small cabins with two rows of seats facing each other. That was quite crammed, when you factor in that many people ignore their ticketed seat assignment and sit wherever they feel like. That being said, my trips were more or less on time and adhered to the estimated duration.

Back to the architecture. The construction of the medinas seemed drab at first, but unique patterns started to reveal themselves upon closer look. The sophisticated detail of mosques and palaces was a joy to admire. Small elements showcased the French, Spanish and Portuguese influences. Outside the kasbahs, modern museums, apartments, and sport complexes were sprouting up in the larger cities. The contrast must be confusing for birds flying overhead.

Apart from the buildings, the souks are a congested tapestry of handmade figurines, colorful spices, knockoff apparel, and…well, tapestries. Though these markets are oft crowded and a risk for pickpockets, each walk through provides an opportunity to see, hear, or smell something new. Continually discovering new stalls, listening to painful negotiations, and inhaling the scent of freshly blended citrus was like being part of a complex ecosystem. I can’t count how many times I was called “Ali Baba” either. Apparently it means “strong man” or something in that ball park. But the definition was given to me by a guy running a scam, so I’m not sure he was a reliable source. Besides the flattering nickname, I was called Spanish, Italian, German, and even Chinese at one point. There’s a first time for everything, I guess.

Speaking of the people, this is another area where I’m hot and cold. The proprietors of the hostel I stayed in were incredibly generous, intelligent and interesting. Their easygoing vibe set a good standard at the beginning of my time in Marrakech.

From there, my impression began to deteriorate. In the streets and souks, I feel like they saw foreigners as walking dirham. While one vendor could be aggressive about getting your business, another would stand firm on an outlandish price. If it wasn’t someone trying to sell you something, it was a deceitful “friend” attempting, and sometimes succeeding, at wrapping you up in an elaborate con.

One contingency of people that were completely pleasant were the ex-pats. In every city I visited, there seemed to be a healthy community of middle-aged French or Spanish couples. Perhaps they’re content with life because they moved to a place where their retirement money will have a longer runway. Regardless, both groups are navigating the mixture of cultures with class.

To end on a high note, I have to mention the cuisine. I’m talking about tajine. I’m talking about cous cous. I’m talking about mint tea. I was either unfamiliar or uninterested in all of those things before my visit. Now, I’m an avid fan. It doesn’t get much better than spiced meat and vegetables slow-cooked in a special clay pot. As a shocking revelation, mint tea was the preferred beverage of choice between my friend Jud and I. Not beer. Somehow not beer. I can’t forget about the abundance of shawarma as well. Always delicious, occasionally detrimental to the digestive tract. It was a staple meal for us, while also being ridiculously affordable.

The cost of food and beverage in Morocco is actually an interesting topic — there was an incredible range in price depending on the establishment. It’s not groundbreaking that street meat was cheap, around $2.50 USD for a wrap with fries and tea. Alternatively, a meal at a nicer restaurant was closer to $15-$20. Still a reasonable price when you compare that to an outing back home, but it’s expensive when you’re on a traveler’s budget. Lastly, a liter of beer was over $10. Hey, I never said I didn’t have any beer. That’s almost an Oktoberfest rate and I found it absurd. It went down easy though.

So, now you might be asking yourself if I would recommend a trip to Morocco. Honestly, it’s difficult to say. Just because I had a mediocre experience doesn’t mean everyone will. I know people that have thoroughly enjoyed themselves. I will say this: my next jaunt to Africa will be elsewhere. Maybe I would have a different opinion if I had more beer and less diarrhea.

By the Numbers

Days in Morocco: 12
AirBnBs: 3
Public Transportation Rides: 10
Camel Rides: 1
Medinas Visited: 4
Barbershops Seen: Infinite
MAD Spent: ~$3,889.71
USD Spent: ~$403.24 (Conversion rate of 9.646)

You can see my full cost breakdown here.

For those interested in visiting one day, here’s a list of where I went and how I ranked stuff:
(click the top left button of the map to expand the list view)

Favorite Attractions:
1. Kasbah of the Udayas
2. Bahia Palace
3. Hassan II Mosque
4. Essouira Medina
5. Jemaa el Fna

Favorite Restaurants/Bars:
1. Triskala
2. Adwak
3. Kabana
4. La Sqala
5. Blue Berry

Lastly, below is an album of what I deemed to be the best photos taken during this leg of the journey.

August 19, 2019August 19, 2019

Happy Anniversary

One year away from home. Actually, a few days longer, but who’s counting?

It was a thrilling prospect before I left. Uncharted territory. Like landing on the moon. Ok. Obviously not that significant. But, still a leap into the unknown. After being gone so long, the concept of home has changed. Life on the road has essentially morphed into my “normal.” So I guess it’s a battle of two adages: “home is where the heart is” or “home is where you hang your hat.” If we’re going by the former, it’s still Richmond. If we’re going by the latter…well, damn. I have been wearing hats a lot. And they’ve been hanging in so many different places. Counting the number of beds I’ve slept in over the past year would take a full day, so we’re going to have to settle for “heaps.”

As a person that loves the order and comfort of my own space, I’ve adapted as well as can be expected to messy hostels, a consistently uninteresting wardrobe, and living out of a backpack. Either I’ve relaxed the desire to control my environment (thus developing lazier habits) or I’m able to recognize that the situation is mostly temporary so I don’t sink effort into changing it for a day. I think my mindset would be different if I knew it was more permanent. The only way to know for sure is to make an assessment after I’ve returned.

By far, the most repetitive conversation I’ve had over my travels is:

What’s your name?
Where are you from?
How long have you been traveling?
Where have you been?
Where are you heading next?

I’ve considered getting the answers tattooed on myself. The frequency is somewhat painful, but it does lead to some worthwhile interactions with fellow travelers. The contacts list in my phone has definitely exploded. To be fair, I’m not communicating with all of them, but there’s about a dozen people I will continue to stay in touch with and likely meet up with again on my journey.

It’s impossible to list the incredible experiences I’ve had during this year abroad. Multi-day excursions, summit views, and activities…or entire locales that have taken me well outside of my comfort zone. As is the case with time, the memories are becoming fuzzier. Is my recall just bad or is it a universal problem for everyone? It seems next to impossible to vividly remember the exact details of a particularly great event. I can pinpoint some of the colors and shapes, but the reason or emotion is harder to summon. Even though they’re not totally gone, losing part of the shine on some these adventures already means it’ll be that much harder to relive in the future. I guess it’s somewhat of a conundrum trying to stack new memories on top of the old ones for fear of completely forgetting the past. Thankfully I can at least retrace the bread crumbs through some pictures and video.

One thing I haven’t grown out of is being a slave to money. I mean, I don’t have a dedicated budget, but I’m constantly choosing the cheapest possible option for almost every meal and accommodation. In retrospect, I think I went too fast and loose in New Zealand and Australia. I told myself before I left that I wouldn’t turn down an experience because of cost and I haven’t necessarily stuck to that principle. Now that I’m in Europe, I’ve got to be much more strategic with spending. Eliminating solo beers and unnecessary trips to the bar has helped. Also, lining up Workaways and housesits keeps the cash from flying out of my pocket.

While the volunteering opportunities have been good for my wallet, they’ve also given me a lot more down time. I’ve noticed a general malaise creeping up recently. I don’t think it’s a lack of energy because I’ve been getting decent sleep in the ever-changing beds. It might be a lack of motivation, though. For the past month or so, I’ve been coasting — very passive about exploring new areas and making decisions that stimulate the soul. I certainly recognize that I’m in a privileged situation to be able to travel like this, so I need to shake it off.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still thoroughly enjoying my time. I haven’t felt an inescapable thrall to return home yet.

Yet.

Perhaps it’s coming. Maybe the lack of lifestyle consistency is starting to take a toll. Or I just need to test the boundaries again. Time to challenge myself again. I’m on a quest for the invigorating and it’s going to be awesome.

August 12, 2019August 12, 2019

So This is Nightlife

Three nights in a row. Or should I say three mornings in a row?

Berlin is well known for its incredible club scene. I’ve heard from many people across my travels that Berlin’s nightlife is the best in Europe. There’s one particular spot, Berghain, that has a party from Friday night until Monday morning — yes, non stop — with a 3 hour long queue and a notorious bouncer named Sven who refuses entry to people that he doesn’t “see potential in.” It’s like that. Even with this insight, I could never be fully prepared for what I was about to experience.

I arrived on a Monday evening with a reservation for a few nights. I didn’t have to be in Poland for a week so I wanted to see what the vibe was before booking a ton of days.

The first night was quiet. Settling in.

I met two Kiwi girls in my hostel dorm and went on a walking tour with them on Tuesday morning. This was me essentially knocking out the tourist attractions quickly: the Brandenburg Gate, the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe, Hitler’s Bunker (which is now fittingly a parking lot and place for dogs to shit), Checkpoint Charlie and a few other squares with either cathedrals or historical buildings. I went to the Museum Island without entering any of the museums, then I went to Alexanderplatz to find the rest of the tourists.

I got back to the hostel in the early evening. That’s when the party train started pulling away from the station.

The two Kiwis and I played some drinking games with a group of 3 Canadians. The night got away from us a bit as we took a field trip to a weird park that’s well known for people buying drugs. It was kind of a strange night, but I could tell there was fun to be had so I extended my room to make it a full week.

The following day was spent doing life admin I’m pretty sure. Then in the afternoon, things got going again. Several 2 for 1 Carlsbergs were involved. Eventually it came time to decide on a next move. The general consensus was going to a park to continue drinking beers. The two Kiwis had an alternate plan. They wanted to go to some “sex club” with a “creative” dress code. I had no idea what any of this meant. Though I was hesitant at first, I found myself throwing on my elephant pants from Thailand and an inside out tank top. I figured it would be a spectacle if nothing else.

As we were assembling outside, 3 new people spontaneously joined us. Kal (Singapore) had just arrived at the hostel and basically only had time to drop his bag off. Felipe (Brzil) and Jie (China) also gladly accepted the invitation for a night out.

The thing is, we had no idea what Kit Kat was about. I don’t think any of us took time to interpret what a “sex club” was. When we got to the location, we saw a small line of people waiting to get in. Most of them were dressed in leather. It was only a short wait before we were standing in front of an imposing female bouncer in a fetish-like get up. We were nearly turned away as the others looked a little too normal for the erotic/creative entry requirement. I went in not knowing if they would be following after me. As I finished paying the door fee and “coat-checking” my shirt and cell phone, I noticed them come through the door. Sweet.

And then…wow. It was indeed a spectacle. “Erotic” is an accurate word. I guess. But I think it short changes the situation. Throughout the various rooms of this club, you could easily find nudity, a toy station (with active whipping and mild electrocution), drugs being blatantly sold in the bathroom, a pool for skinny dipping, and various dark corners where people were unabashedly having sex. My entire group was blown away.

Not physically.

We met a girl from Korea named Robin who hung out with us the entire night. Felipe and Jie left after about two hours of dancing. The whole thing was a bit of a blur. What I do know is that I got back to my room at 8am in time to see off the two Kiwi girls who inspired the entire excursion. Apparently they left at 3:30am and went to a different club.

I’m curious if I’ll ever have an experience that shocking and entertaining ever again in my life. Insane.

Since I didn’t really go to bed until around 10:30am and it was completely light out and hot as hell on the 4th floor of this hostel, I only really slept for a couple of hours.

I went downstairs and wandered around the grocery store where nothing looked appetizing. I returned to the hostel and posted up on the patio beanbag chairs. Gradually, the group reconvened, with a few additions here and there. For hours, we did nothing but sit there and chat.

As was becoming tradition, there was a clarion call for evening plans. Even though we were mostly sober, it was time to hit the town again. The familiar 4 of myself, Kal, Felipe and Jie were joined by Robin and Hassan (India). Matrix was the first stop of the night as that was probably the most popular option by word of mouth. It was also the cheapest to get into.

And, there was probably a reason for that. I thought it pretty much sucked. There were 3 different rooms with different music but it was all such a generic and uninteresting vibe. Of course we were coming off a gnarly first foray into Berlin clubs, but this wouldn’t have even been good for Richmond. Hyperbolically harsh, maybe, but I’m going with it.

Somehow we managed to remain for a few hours. Our crew thinned out to just me, Kat and Robin. We decided to bounce over to another spot. We’d been told great things about another nearby place called Suicide Circus. At this point, I think it was 4am. We went and stood in a 30 minute queue before entering.

Once we got in, we realized it was a pride event, possibly to kick off the festivities for the weekend. The music situation was much better, which meant we trance-ally techno’d out for another couple of hours.

After we snapped out of it and/or were too tired to continue moving our feet, we stepped out into the daylight like vampires into the sun. Another 8am outing. Seemed like I always had 30,000 steps from all of the dancing. Hilarious.

Essentially repeat the new night routine that was now happening in the morning.
Sleep for 2 hours. Zombie through the grocery store. Slump into a beanbag chair.

The Carlsbergs came out at some point in the afternoon, which was now rebranded “morning.” Brendan and Jayden (New Zealand) entered the fray. There ended up being a group of about 9 that joined forces to rule some Friday night activities. Where the energy was coming from, I have no idea.

Watergate was our primary destination — another club with a reputation for being selective. We received what I would characterize as a mild, but fair talking to before being allowed in by the bouncer. I think he let us in mostly because the real party hadn’t kicked off yet. Either way, we were in.

The set up was a medium-sized room on the main floor and a cozy dance floor on the ground level. The unique factor was that there was one wall of all glass behind the DJ so you could look out and see the illuminated city on the river. There was also a deck outside whenever it was time for a breather.

There were two particular DJs that crushed their sets and showered the crowd with silky vibes. While this was happening, around 5am, you could see the orange of the sunrise starting to crest over the buildings. It put.a smile in my heart and on my face. Euphoria. The ecstasy probably helped too.

A new DJ started at 7am and by that time, the group was fading. As we started to head out, people were filtering in to begin their after parties. Dear God, this is real life somewhere in the world, and it’s called Berlin.

Thus concludes the tale of clubbing three consecutive nights until 8am.

Surprisingly, I wasn’t feeling miserable. At least in my mind. Realistically, my physical state was probably something akin to a wet rag that’d been tossed into some dank corner to dry all wrinkled and crusty. Description bonus.

If you had to guess, what do you think I did the next day?

The correct answer would be beanbag main stay for like 10 hours. The most unfortunate thing was that Kal had forgotten to extend his room and didn’t have a bed. When we got back, he had to pack his stuff and check out. He didn’t get to sleep at all, which is devastating. I couldn’t even imagine. Berlin took it out of him so much that he ended up buying a plane ticket back to Singapore for the next morning.

Suddenly, it was just me and Felipe. He left early the following morning and then I was solo again. They days evaporated in a flash.

I felt it then and I feel it now — that lifestyle is not sustainable. Obviously. For all the incredible cultural movements and openness Berlin has, I couldn’t move there due to the fact that the nightlife would be an unrelenting siren. I think I know myself pretty well and my current assessment is that I wouldn’t be able to harness the proper amount of self-control needed to manage the weekends out. It’s just too enticing and captivating. Even writing this now is making me want to go back and explore all of the other clubs we didn’t get to. Dangerous.

By the way, that’s not all I did in Berlin. I managed to somehow fit in a walking tour about the Third Reich and another one about street art and counter culture. I learned a lot of facts about the SS and David Bowie that I’ve subsequently forgotten. Oops.

I spent my last day admiring the East Side Gallery and casually strolling around listening to music. I was in a totally content state, replaying the tornado of unbelievable moments while the tram lines and green domes of the city dotted my environment.

Toward the end of the day, a huge rain storm rolled in. A classic literary trope that washed everything away and presented me a clean slate for a new adventure. That week in Berlin won’t be so easily erased, though.

May 18, 2019May 18, 2019

In Summary: Cambodia

I’m not exactly sure what the right way is to sum up Cambodia. There were highs and lows as there always are, but this country felt different. Maybe it was because I started off doing something wildly sad on the first day. Really, I think it’s because they’re still on the cusp of figuring it out. It could have something to do with the large-scale adoption of western influences, all the way down to American currency. In my opinion, it would feel better if there was a stronger Cambodian personality, or at least a Khmer spin on the foreign aspects they choose to integrate.

There are some really good pieces, but the full puzzle isn’t quite there. Yet.

I found some great places to stay and some even better places to eat. But nearby there was bound to be mounds of dirt or piles of trash. Cleanliness can be chucked into the ‘in progress’ category. Geckos, roaches and rats were seen regularly. It’s something you have to put out of your mind when going to a restaurant. I’m not saying I need pristine surroundings (though the royal palace was a sight to see), but I could’ve avoided a few trips to the can in better circumstances. Although, you know, it wouldn’t be what it is without those elements. A few table ants and a mosquito bite during a meal does enhance the authenticity.

In addition to insect repellant, don’t forget your sunscreen if you’re visiting during the non-rainy months. And remember to budget for drinking water. To say it’s warm would be a massive understatement. Air con was a luxury; a fan was a minimum requirement. Again, part of the experience.

The cultural offerings were stunning to witness. From both sides of the table. The Khmer Rouge history is such an important part of the country’s identity, albeit cripplingly disheartening. Whether it’s recovery from that or general progress, they’re definitely building toward something. Once they get their transit system on track, I think growth will be exponential. I’d be interested to see the difference in 10 years.

As for the main standout, it has to be, unsurprisingly, Angkor Wat. You could easily spend a full week exploring the temples and still have so much left to see. Now, I don’t think a normal person would have the stamina to do it in that heat, but that’s beside the point. I’m having trouble coming up with more to say about it. The collection of structures and carved stone was so vast and impressive that I found myself meandering about. Much like this post.

I can’t finish without mentioning the Khmer people. So positive, so kind. I saw so many faces light up in response to a smile or “Hello.” Hostel staff treated guests like immediate friends. The attitude and character can not only be appreciated, but used as inspiration.

I hope they Seam Reap the benefits of happiness and prosperity. What a segue.

By the Numbers

Days in Cambodia: 13
Tours: 6
Bus Rides: 7
Tuk Tuk Rides: 8
Massages: 1
Temples Visited: Lost Count
Angkor Beers: Lost Count
KHR Spent: ~1,772,148.00
USD Spent: ~$443.04 (Conversion rate of 4,000)

You can see my full cost breakdown here.

For those interested in visiting one day, here’s a list of where I went and how I ranked stuff:
(click the top left button of the map to expand the list view)

Favorite Attractions: 1. Angkor Wat 2. Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum 3. Choeung Ek Killing Fields 4. La Plantation Pepper Farm 5. The Royal Palace 6. Phnom Sampov 7. Pub Street in Siem Reap 8. Bokor National Park 9. Battambang Bamboo Train 10. Crocodile Farm	Favorite Restaurants/Bars: 1. La Plantation Restaurant 2. Footprints Cafe 3. X Bar 4. Artillery 5. Cafe Eden 6. Monorom Garden 7. The Lonely Tree Cafe 8. Jaan Bai 9. Pomme Hostel 10. About the World

Lastly, below is my “best of” album. This country has a lot more to offer than what I captured but hopefully I’ll be back when I’m a bit more advanced in my photography skills.