When I moved back to Phnom Penh last year, I imagined life slowing down a little. Less stress, fewer deadlines, more evenings by the river with a cheap beer and nowhere particular to be. Instead, I’ve somehow ended up busier than I have been in years, except that this time almost everything I’m working on feels like something I genuinely want to build.
It’s funny how life circles back. More than a decade ago I was running independent cinemas here, convinced Cambodia would be home forever. Then came years of travelling, writing, freelancing, failed startups, successful projects, more travelling, and somehow I’ve ended up back where much of it started. Phnom Penh has changed enormously. Every month another familiar building disappears, another skyscraper appears, and another café opens that somehow sells coffee for the price of a full Cambodian dinner.
Most of my days are now divided between writing and trying to create things that simply didn’t exist before. I’m finishing several books, including a memoir that has forced me to revisit some wonderfully stupid decisions from the past, a practical book about losing weight without giving up restaurant food, and, perhaps unexpectedly, I’m also developing television series pitches. It’s a world where almost nothing ever gets made but everyone keeps dreaming anyway, which probably makes it a perfect fit for me.
At the same time, I’ve accidentally become something of a city promoter. Lord Penh, which started as a small local events page, has grown into something much larger. The goal is simple: convince people that Phnom Penh is one of Southeast Asia’s most underrated cities. There’s far more happening here than people imagine, from live music and theatre to obscure art exhibitions, comedy nights, rooftop parties and hidden restaurants tucked away behind unmarked gates.
In April, one of those ideas finally came to life with the launch of the Phnom Penh Passport. Hundreds of copies have already found their way into the hands of visitors and residents alike, encouraging people to explore the city one café, museum, rooftop bar, gallery and hidden corner at a time. Seeing people actually carrying it around and collecting stamps has been enormously satisfying, especially because it began as nothing more than a scribble in a notebook. It has also strengthened my belief that Phnom Penh deserves far more attention than it gets.
Another project close to my heart is TTPtown.com, a website entirely dedicated to Tuol Tom Poung, the neighbourhood I now happily call home. It’s part local guide, part love letter to the area, celebrating everything from hidden cafés and independent shops to quirky history and community events. The goal is to capture the character of a neighbourhood that somehow manages to feel both wonderfully chaotic and surprisingly village-like. It’s also an excuse to spend even more time wandering its streets with a camera and notebook, which hardly feels like work at all.
The newest obsession is creating a free printed city guide that every tourist should be able to grap when they arrive at the Phnom Penh International Airport. Cambodia deserves something better than outdated pamphlets filled with temple advertisements and blurry maps. I want visitors to discover the places locals actually enjoy, while giving small businesses affordable exposure. Whether it becomes a success or a spectacular financial mistake remains to be seen, but that uncertainty has never stopped me before.
Freelance writing and translation continue quietly in the background. And I made myself available as a professional media trainer in the region!
After years of working remotely from dozens of countries, it still amazes me that words typed into a laptop overlooking the Phnom Penh skyline somehow pay my low bills. The internet may be changing rapidly thanks to AI, but good writing still seems to have a place, and I intend to keep fighting for it.
Outside work, life has become pleasantly predictable. My cats Fify Shady and Chickpea are a comforting extra in my life. I have morning walks through neighbourhoods that tourists rarely see. Swim at the local sports club to keep moving a bit more. Watch the city wake up from a plastic chair outside a noodle shop. On evenings I list to catch up with friends over beers that just cost a dollar. Cambodia has a remarkable ability to make ordinary days feel memorable.
What comes next? If experience has taught me anything, it’s that making long-term predictions is almost pointless. A year ago I didn’t know I’d be back here building magazines, launching city passports, writing books, pitching television series and spending an unhealthy amount of time thinking about typography and advertising rates. I’m sure the coming months will bring projects I can’t yet imagine.
For now, I’m exactly where I need to be: in a city that keeps surprising me, surrounded by opportunity disguised as chaos.
See you somewhere down the road.
Much love,
Ramon