Temple Run practice in Angkor Wat

Tiptoeing across the hotel room as to not wake my travel companion, I pick-up the various effects I’d scattered throughout the room the night before. Scarf: check; bag: check; wallet: check; temple pass: check.

I was shoulder-deep inside my backpacking bag, scrounging for a hair-tie, when a thunderous knock sounded upon the door. Both my friend and I audibly cursed. He pulled his pillow over his head and I answered the door to a mullet sporting Cambodian man in a blue polka-dotted button-up and cut-off jean shorts.

“You go tuk-tuk to temples?” he asked in a surprisingly gravely voice for such a small man.