Dirt Bike Adventure

The alarm rang at 8:30 in the morning, gently pulling us out of a slow, relaxed start to the day. Sunlight was already streaming through the curtains, warm and golden.

We headed to New York Bagels for breakfast, where the cozy café buzzed softly with morning chatter, and the smell of fresh coffee and baked goods filled the air. To my complete surprise, a cake appeared in front of me, candles flickering. The people working in the café started to sing Happy Birthday, and quickly everyone around us joined the chanting. I laughed, slightly embarrassed and deeply touched at the same time, as I blew the candles out.

After the lovely surprise, Kiki guided me to a local mechanic tucked away on a dusty roadside. Outside, two dirt bikes were waiting for us, towering and slightly intimidating. While handing over our identification, we nervously asked for instructions on how to shift gears and, more importantly, how to actually handle these enormous machines. The mechanic demonstrated casually, as if it were the easiest thing in the world, while we exchanged slightly anxious glances.

After a short trial run to the roundabout and back, wobbly, cautious, and filled with laughter, we headed off, following the river toward Tonle Sap Lake. The first few minutes felt awkward and clumsy, my hands stiff on the handlebars, struggling to shift gears smoothly with my big toe, while trying to look confident.

On the right side of the river stretched a smooth concrete road, predictable and safe. On the left bank, however, was a dusty dirt road filled with potholes, bumps, and loose sand, perfect. The moment we turned onto it, everything changed. The bike finally felt alive beneath me, roaring gently as it was actually used for the terrain it was meant for. Excitement took over completely. Tires kicking up dust, and the tropical sun beating down on us.

We sped - or wobbled rather - past a sleeping cow in the middle of the road, the countryside quiet except for the hum of our engines and the rustle of the wind. Then suddenly, the narrow road ended abruptly in front of a farmer’s property. I stopped and awkwardly struggled to turn the bike around, heart racing slightly as I balanced the heavy machine. Behind me, Kiki stopped and… fell.

The bike was simply too heavy for her to carry. For a split second, there was silence, then laughter mixed with concern. I quickly helped her back up, checking if she was okay, and we switched bikes. It suddenly made sense, the shop owner had given Kiki the bigger, heavier bike, much harder to control and shift.

We eventually found the river again, crossed to the other bank, and followed the road in the direction of Tonle Sap Lake. “How hard can it be to find the biggest lake in Southeast Asia?” we joked, feeling adventurous and slightly overconfident.

The scenery changed gradually and beautifully. From the bustle of the city to the quiet countryside, then to endless farmland with rice fields shimmering under the sun. Cows and water buffaloes grazed lazily, completely unbothered by our noisy arrival. Soon, the land became wetter, fields flooded as far as the eye could see, reflecting the sky like giant mirrors. The smell of water and fish grew stronger, thick in the humid air. We were getting close.

All of a sudden, we were halted at a small checkpoint and asked to buy tickets. Only tourists had to pay. With plans later that day and limited time, we exchanged a look and decided to turn around instead. A mix of amusement and mild disappointment lingered as we drove back.

Back home, we refilled our water bottles, took a quick break, and then continued the adventure, this time heading in the direction of the school and exploring the rice fields south of Siem Reap. But first, we stopped at the food stand of our dear friend Champey, who I took for a ride around town.

Continuing our adventure to the rice fields, the roads grew quieter, narrower, and more peaceful, with only the sound of insects, distant birds, and the occasional motorbike passing by. It felt freeing, almost meditative, riding through wide open landscapes.

After two more hours of pure fun and dusty joy, we returned the bikes, cheeks sore from smiling. We then stopped by The Muffin Man to pick up cheesecake — the best cheesecake in the world, if you ask me. Carefully placing the cake in the fridge, like safeguarding a treasure.

After showering and changing into more comfortable clothes, we headed to Secret Eden Spa, our go-to massage salon, for a hot stone massage. The dim lighting, soft music, and scent of oils instantly melted away the remaining tension in my body. During the massage, my masseuse casually told me I looked like a movie star from Hollywood — a compliment so unexpected that I couldn’t help but laugh. I mean, I’ll gladly take it. The warmth of the stones and the slow, careful movements felt like the final release of weeks of physical strain.

In the evening, we went to New Leaf Eatery for dinner, where another surprise awaited us. We spotted Lisa, my cousin who is doing an internship in Siem Reap, together with my uncle and aunt, who were visiting her. The joy of that unexpected reunion instantly filled the table with warmth and animated conversation.

Shortly after, Sreymom and Grant joined us, and what began as a simple dinner turned into a genuinely lovely evening full of laughter, stories, and that comforting feeling of being surrounded by familiar faces in a place that already feels like home.