A Morning of Resolve
September 8th, in Skun. I rose at 6 a.m., welcomed by a breathtaking sunrise. It was time to leave the pink, love-hotel-like guesthouse that had sheltered me. My body still carried yesterday's fatigue, but today I had a mission: to ride 100 kilometers. Strength was needed, but more than that, determination.
Not far into the ride, I stopped for breakfast. The cheerful smiles of children lifted my spirit. Before parting, they lined up for handshakes—each waiting their turn. That small gesture of respect and joy gave me courage to keep pedaling.
Strain and Rest
As the kilometers passed, my thighs began to scream. I knew I couldn't continue without a break. Over lunch, I fueled my body and gave in to the temptation of a deep one-hour nap. Forward movement is vital, but so is rest. That balance is part of travel itself.
Refreshed, I pushed on. The sky above was sunny, yet clouds loomed in the distance. I kept my eyes on the wind, the shifting colors of the sky—always reading the signs.
An Unexpected Pause
The smile of a food stall vendor caught my attention, and I stopped. He recommended ABC beer. I tried it, but the strong bitterness was overwhelming—perhaps the first beer I ever truly couldn't drink. Still, I was grateful for the pause and his warm welcome.
Even as we laughed, rain clouds crept closer. Ten kilometers later, the skies opened in a sudden downpour. Luckily, I had taken shelter just in time. Safe and dry, I counted myself fortunate—until I discovered my trailer tire had punctured. Repairs cost about 10,000 riel, and soon I was back on the road.
A Game I Did Not Expect
Not long after, I noticed a soccer field to my right. Soccer has always been a part of me, so I stopped. One thing led to another, and suddenly I was on the field—not just for a casual kick, but an official 45-minute half in a local adult league.
I had already cycled 100 kilometers that day. My legs were heavy, my body drained. Yet I played. I didn't score, and we lost. Still, it was pure joy—sweat, laughter, and the thrill of the game.
What surprised me most was how it all began. Just a simple choice—to approach, to speak up. That single action expanded into an entire world of connection. Travel has taught me this again and again: sometimes, just one step changes everything.
