Bong Tom has become my main tuk-tuk driver. He’s awesome. I love him.
He hangs around outside the hotel where I’m staying—it’s his niche. The hotel is in the southern part of the city, where locals live—away from the touristy downtown areas.
In downtown Siem Reap, it’s easy to grab a tuk-tuk. Drivers are everywhere, just hanging out, waiting for their next hire. The competition is tough. Many of them try to sell themselves as you walk down the street.
But that’s not the case where I’m staying, especially at night when the local markets close up. Those markets cater to the locals, and at night, the locals are home—not out like the tourists in the late-night “Mardi Gras” parts of downtown.
Bong Tom, though, is usually around. I’m not sure if he has some kind of agreement with the hotel or what.
For two bucks, he’ll whiz me downtown in about seven minutes—and he’ll come pick me up too. I’ve got his WhatsApp number. Every time he drops me off, he makes sure to remind me to give him a call when I’m ready to head back. I call, and seven minutes later, up pulls Bong Tom with a big smile.
The other day, I hired him to take me around to the temples for the day—fifteen bucks. He just kicked back outside and waited to take me to the next temple. It made me a little uncomfortable, but that’s how it works here, and he seems genuinely happy to do it. That’s a lot of money for a tuk-tuk driver, and most of the time, he just gets to hang out and shoot the shit with the other drivers doing the same.
When I finished for the day, I found him lying back, napping in the cushioned seats. I felt bad. I didn’t want to wake him—he looked so comfortable.
March 16, 2025 in Cambodia ⋅ ☁️ 84 °F
Traveler
How cool!