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Waking up on an incredible Cambodian island paradise never really gets old. Here, on the island of Koh Rong, without roads, and a limited number of boats coming to and from the island every day, it's an especially calm way of life. Water buffalo replace cars, and I love watching them stroll down the beach carrying goods for the locals who raise them as part of their livelihood. The only downside is all the incessant sand flies on the beach, which have now covered my body with itchy red bumps... but it's a small price to pay. Having met some other backpackers and falling in love with the island, I decided to extend my stay a few extra days. My room is one single bed with a small side table, and a hanging bug net protected by four flimsy wooden walls - it costs next to nothing and it's perfect. Every day the power on the entire island goes out at 10pm and doesn't spark up again until 8am. With nothing much to do and scarcely enough light to read a book, my new friends and I decide to bring some Klang beers down to the water to look at the stars. Little crabs run along the sand and dive into self-made tunnels below the surface as we walk barefoot towards the dock, barely visible in the pitch black night. We use the lights of our mobile phones to guide a safe path and avoid any rocks on our way. There's a storm far out in the distance over the sea, so every now and then, just for a moment, a crash of purple lightning illuminates the sky and offers a brief moment of light. After laughing and swapping travel stories for hours in the dark, we go for a swim, stripping off our clothing and leaving everything behind in a pile on the dock. One of the boys comes cannon balling into the dark water... creating an eruption of bright blue light in his wake. I have to rub my eyes, and worry that those warm Klangs have gone to my head. The water just went from ink black to glowing blue. I look down at my own body to see thousands of tiny blue lights in my hair and rolling off my chest - sparkling in the water around me as a tread to stay afloat. The more we move, the brighter we glow, and the more fun we have. We're all in awe, playing around with the water and basking in what feels like absolute magic. It's like a dream. One of the girls remembers a story her friend had shared from a night in Thailand where she swam with bioluminescent plankton. I've never even heard of that before, but it must be what we're experiencing now. Mother nature is wild but like... glowing plankton?! I never could have expected to find something this dazzling. I lose track of how long we stay, but no amount of time would ever feel like enough. Once we're tired and pruny, we climb back up to the dock, being careful to avoid the sea urchins scattered over the wooden ladder. Putting our clothes back on we notice some things missing. A shirt. A pair of shorts. Aaaaaaand my phone is gone. We were so distracted by the beautiful shimmering ocean, that we forgot rule number one of backpacking Asia: never take your eyes off your things. But alas, you live and learn. If you don't have something stolen when you're abroad... did you even really go?