All Roads Lead to Angkor

Hopefully you've got a lot of time on your hands, because after three days of wandering around the ruins of Angkor Wat, this one's going to be a doozy.

The 5 hour journey from the Thai border to Siem Reap, Cambodia was a long dusty ride through flat, flat lands. The red dirt roads were interrupted every mile or so by construction, and occasionally by foot-deep ruts left over from the last rain. It could have been much worse, though; on rain-slick roads the trip can take as long as 15 hours.


On our first morning in Siem Reap we tried to take a tuk-tuk into the center of town to look for a new guesthouse, only to have our way blocked by the Cambodian army, parading triumphantly home from the Thai border. It may not have made international news but there has been a small border scuffle between Thailand and Cambodia over an even smaller temple. No shots were fired, although both countries sent troops to put on a show. Seeing the rag-tag procession make its way through town, it's a good thing for Cambodia that the conflict didn't escalate any further - one of the army trucks was broken down at the end of the road, hood up and harried colonel on the phone.

The first day I toured around the outer temples with Anna-Lisa, my new Spanish roommate, and a Brit named Alistair, in a moto-drawn tuk-tuk. Angkor Wat is the main temple but the area of ruined temples, libraries, and universities sprawls for several miles. Even in the open-air chariot it was extremely hot, although clouds appeared from somewhere in the afternoon and proceeded to pour on us on the way home.

I've neglected to bring my list of temples with me to the internet cafe so I haven't a clue as to the name of this one. From the top you can see thick green jungle all around, which gives you an idea of what this place must have looked like before the French "rediscovered" it.

I do remember that this place as Bantay Srei, a further 15 km from the main area and a tiny temple full of intricate, beautifully preserved carvings. On the outside of the site the locals have set up a miniature village of stalls and restaurants. Like every site, as soon as you hop off your bike or out of your tuk-tuk you're swarmed by kids and young adults selling cold drinks, bracelets, post-cards, bamboo flutes, and sundry other souvenirs. The kids who are just on school vacation are quick to laugh and start asking questions in well-enunciated English; the true beggar children won't take "no" for an answer and follow you relentlessly with their sad faces.

The actual Angkor Wat is an enormous complex that's like a choose-your-own-adventure book. Well-intentioned signs show you the "way of visit", or indicate "no entry", but during the sweltering mid-day hours Anna-Lisa and I wandered freely wherever we chose. The outer corridor is covered in 600 meters of bas-relief carvings depicting Hindu and Buddhist mythology, staggering in its scale and precision. The inner chamber houses five towers representing the holy Mt. Meru and other minor peaks.

Fun-sized, nothing. Beware the midgetzilla!

Besides the wonder of Angkor Wat, Anna-Lisa and I have been adjusting to this country that is Cambodia. She's headed to Phnom Penh to teach English for three months and we've been closely bonded first by her illness, then by the brief disappearance of her passport (recovered a couple agonizing hours later), and finally by the 30 hour journey from Vientienne to Siem Reap. We're definitely not in Laos any more. The faces are darker and overwhelmingly young - look up the Khmer Rouge when you get a chance, although I'm sure I won't be able to avoid writing about it. Shop owners, tuk-tuk drivers, and restaurants press insistently for business. The land is flat and filled with rice paddies and palm trees. And, of course, there's a whole new exotic language to butcher.