Every two years, a handful of leaders from Cambodia's European business community step forward to take the helm of EuroCham's sectoral committees. In July, the European Chamber of Commerce in Cambodia launched its 2026 campaign with a call for candidates; by early August, it had published the first profiles of those already answering that call.

The Cambodia Tourism Board (CTB) and Phare Ponleu Selpak, a Guinness World Record holder, have announced a strategic partnership around the 13th edition of the Tini Tinou International Circus Festival, set for November 2026 in Siem Reap and Battambang. The collaboration aims to move Cambodia's tourism story beyond the temples of Angkor and present the country as a living, contemporary cultural destination.

The August 2026 issue of the renowned French magazine GEO devotes its cover and a near-thirty-page feature to Cambodia. A prime international showcase for the country, at a time when tourism is looking to reinvent itself beyond the temples of Angkor alone.

At the end of a wooden pier battered by winds off the gulf, under sun-bleached parasols, a handful of families have kept up the same routine for a century: sorting, tying, cooking and selling Kep's blue crab. Psar Kdam, the “crab market,” is not simply a tasty stop on the road to Kampot. It is the living memory of a town that lost almost everything — except its bond with the sea.

Across the river from the Royal Palace, on the bank where the Mekong, the Tonlé Sap and the Bassac meet, Cham and Vietnamese families have lived on their boats for generations. As Phnom Penh raises glass towers all around them, all they have left for an address is a mooring spot — temporary, and always under threat.

Prime Minister in 1945, and again in 1972: on paper, Son Ngoc Thanh's career looks like a political summit. In practice, he never held power for more than a few weeks at a stretch, caught between his open admiration for imperial Japan, a later alliance with the CIA, and a lifelong, structuring hostility toward Norodom Sihanouk. A portrait of a Khmer nationalist as consequential as he is uncomfortable to celebrate without nuance.

For nearly a century, an ochre Art Deco dome has watched over Phnom Penh and over one of the most photographed markets in Southeast Asia — born from a drained swamp, scarred by bombs, and saved just in time by a French-Cambodian renovation.

A betel leaf, a sliver of areca nut, a touch of lime paste. Nothing could look simpler — and yet this small bundle has accompanied Cambodians for generations, from the neighbourhood market to the most codified wedding ceremonies. From Cambodia to Vietnam, by way of Taiwan and southern China, betel chewing tells a story shared across a large part of Asia — and not quite the one people usually imagine.

From the rice paddies of the Tonlé Sap to the smoking stalls of Skun, all the way to the fine-dining tables of Siem Reap, Cambodia has cultivated a singular relationship with insects for centuries. Neither a sideshow curiosity nor a mere relic of famine, Khmer entomophagy tells a story of resilience, craft and, increasingly, science. A deep dive into a tradition that may yet help feed the future.