Tag Archives: Phnom Penh
Phnom Penh Restaurant Reviews: The Lost Room

Getting there is rarely half the fun in Cambodia (dirt bike enthusiasts excepted). Even if you have your own chauffeured transport, a very good speaker system and an ice chest of beer under your feet, it still doesn’t mean you…
Prahok: My Secret Addiction to Cambodia’s Infamous Fermented Fish ‘Cheese’

For the past few weeks, I’ve been staying in a guesthouse in Phnom Penh, writing every day in the restaurant downstairs, and trying to get the printed version of my book sorted. It’s a relaxing place, filled with backpackers all…
Phnom Penh Coffee Smackdown

Phnom Penh. 6:00am. Sun breaking over the Mekong; ladies in pajamas flapping their arms in synchronized ecstasy to Akon along the river, chickens scratching, café workers stoking their charcoal fires in the cool morning air. Time to slog off to…
Shame of Cambodia’s Memorial to Slain War Reporters

Anyone who knows anything about the Cambodian Government will know they never do anything quickly. But it’s appalling how slow they’ve been honouring the more than three dozen journalists who were killed or went missing during the bloodshed and turmoil…
On the Dengue Fever Trail

Dengue Fever and their singer Chhom Nimol celebrated ten years of performing together with the just ended “Electric Mekong Tour”. I was fortunate to have seen three of the shows on the tour, two in Phnom Penh, one in Battambang,…
Phnom Penh Restaurant Reviews: Viva Mexican Restaurant

It was never my intention for this review to be like a cactus – prickly. Indeed, taking into consideration the sum total of my Mexican gastronomic and culinary history thus far amounted to a pair of Freebird breakfast burritos, I’d…
Phnom Penh Restaurant Reviews: Vitking

Considering that the far western extension of street 450 does not appear on most local maps the street has a lot going on. Running along the south side of the Russian Market and, and its western end ending at the…







A Good Cop, a Wild Driver and a Weird Ride Home
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Outside the minimart at 2am was a tuk-tuk driver; mid thirties, furious, waving his fists and gesticulating wildly as he glared at me as if to suggest; ”Barang – you are only scratching the surface of my righteous anger, so…