Discovering New Perspectives on the Road
On September 6th in Phnom Penh, I decided to extend my stay. My health wasn't at its best, and sometimes the body asks us to slow down. My travel companion, a university student, had to leave earlier because of his studies. It was here that our paths parted.
I owe him more than I can express. Traveling together changed my view of what a journey can be. Until then, I believed travel was something I could fully enjoy alone. But sharing the road with someone revealed a different kind of joy—laughter in the small struggles, encouragement in the long miles, and conversations that opened new doors in my mind.
He told me that he was grateful to me, but in truth, I feel the gratitude is mine. Thanks to him, I realized I want to keep sharing journeys with others.
Trying something once before deciding it's "not for me" is important. Sometimes the first experience can sweep away doubts and awaken a new way of living. From now on, I want to hold onto that spirit of "just try."
A Day of Work Amid the Journey
With an extra day in Phnom Penh, I decided to focus on work. When traveling, if I don't handle things in the moment, they tend to pile up later, and the weight only grows heavier.
I spent about eight hours working quietly in my room. There is a certain peace in turning focus inward, even when the world outside is buzzing with life.
Sharing Meals, Sharing Culture
That evening, a Japanese friend living in Phnom Penh invited me out again. He always takes me to places only locals seem to know, and for that I feel grateful.
This time, I enjoyed Japanese food I hadn't tasted in a long while. The flavors carried both comfort and satisfaction, as if my heart had been reminded of home.
After the meal, he prepared another dish—tuna seared over straw fire, the same style used in Kōchi's Hirome Market. The smoky aroma, the warmth of the flames—it was unmistakably Japanese, and it struck a deep chord in my memory.
A Taste of Craft and Community
We then visited a bar run by one of his acquaintances. There, I learned that even in Cambodia, Japanese brewers are crafting beer. The brewery, called Flower Nanobrewery, offered a variety of refreshing, easy-to-drink beers.
The person sitting beside me even shared cashew nuts—peppery, sweet, and spicy, each flavor inviting me to taste the next.
At the end of the night, I was offered an award-winning gin. Each sip carried me gently toward closure, marking my final night in Phnom Penh with peace and quiet joy.
Journeys are not only about landscapes. They are also about people, flavors, and the unexpected kindnesses that light up a day.
