So, I got an email from one of you today asking, "well was Angkor worth it?" The reason it's taken me two weeks to write about it is because a) I've been recovering from the trip back, in what was promised to be a taxi and turned out to a pickup truck full of local workers, a crazed driver who kept his finger on the horn for every metre of the trip, and a saffron-clad monk perched on a box of onions, trying his damnedest to look serene. And b) I got back to Bangkok and spent those few days working on an art project, which you'll see on my return.
Angkor was, it turned out, worth every second of the trip (each way). In fact, there was a point early the next morning - when I arrived at the site, seeing for the first time the huge grey towers rising above the jungle, silhouetted by the sunrise and reflected in the vast moat, children bathing and playing in the morning mist, lotus flowers springing forth from the glassy water - I felt that it would really have been worth walking every step of the journey from the Cambodian border (although, in fact, walking would've been the soft option). Angkor is unimaginably beautiful and vast - the word itself means "City," - the complex of shrines, temples and sculptures occupying some 350 square kilometres of Cambodian jungle, long since ruined by the onslaught, not only of invaders, but also the forest itself. Since the movie Tomb Raider, filmed at Ta Prohm, (a temple so overgrown that the renovators, overawed by the prospect of separating the shrine from the jungle abandoned the idea altogether). More commonly known as Angkor Wat, the name is in fact that of the most imposing and most intact of the structures, whose massive outline is featured on the Cambodian flag. I managed to haul ass out of bed at 4.00am on two successive occasions - entrance at $40 for a three-day pass is a motivation to get your money's worth, and the luxury of being alone in the temples first thing in the morning is indescribable.
Will you please accelerate, Mr Simon?
I had, on the recommendation of my dear friend Michelle, whom I abandoned to the hill-tribes of Northern Thailand, hired the same driver she used on her trip to Angkor, a young Cambodian by the name of Mr Kunn. I didn't realize until he turned up that morning that he was a guide, and not a driver. Not only did this cost me an extra $14 per day (a fortune in S.E Asia) but it also cost me my freedom. By 10am, five hours into my day, I was sick of him. And the feeling was reciprocated. He was small and annoying, with the same relentless buzzing energy that wasps have when they get a whiff of your ice-cream. He was eager that I should see as much of the complex as possible in as short a time-frame. I was eager to daydream my way around the ruins, my trance-like state enhanced by the serene smiles adorning the huge sculptures. So I managed to lose Mr. Kunn for a little while, and found myself reunited with three sirens I'd met at the sunset vantage-point the previous evening - Sadie, Nick and Erica. They'd seen me speeding along in the shit-spattered Camry, surrounded by Cambodians and lychees, two days previously, and we'd decided to loaf around the temples together at some point. They rescued me from the clutches of Kunn with the charm and guile of Charlie's Angels - I was totally sick of him by the time they arrived, and was delighted to see him dumbstruck and baffled at the prospect of managing four inattentive and hyperactive westerners. So I left them with him for a while, until the crafty Kunn caught up with me, whining plaintively "Mr Simon, Mr Simon. We have much to see. Please will you accelerate?" I did nothing of the sort, and dawdled defiantly. We managed to make it through the day without my firing him, but the following day he sent me a driver called "Solo" who spoke no English and waited for me while I did my own thang. The best way. I recommend it highly.
So yes. Angkor - it's simply superb. By comparison, the Vatican looks vulgar, the Parthenon puerile, Istanbul inconsequential. See it before you die.
Angkor was, it turned out, worth every second of the trip (each way). In fact, there was a point early the next morning - when I arrived at the site, seeing for the first time the huge grey towers rising above the jungle, silhouetted by the sunrise and reflected in the vast moat, children bathing and playing in the morning mist, lotus flowers springing forth from the glassy water - I felt that it would really have been worth walking every step of the journey from the Cambodian border (although, in fact, walking would've been the soft option). Angkor is unimaginably beautiful and vast - the word itself means "City," - the complex of shrines, temples and sculptures occupying some 350 square kilometres of Cambodian jungle, long since ruined by the onslaught, not only of invaders, but also the forest itself. Since the movie Tomb Raider, filmed at Ta Prohm, (a temple so overgrown that the renovators, overawed by the prospect of separating the shrine from the jungle abandoned the idea altogether). More commonly known as Angkor Wat, the name is in fact that of the most imposing and most intact of the structures, whose massive outline is featured on the Cambodian flag. I managed to haul ass out of bed at 4.00am on two successive occasions - entrance at $40 for a three-day pass is a motivation to get your money's worth, and the luxury of being alone in the temples first thing in the morning is indescribable.
Will you please accelerate, Mr Simon?
I had, on the recommendation of my dear friend Michelle, whom I abandoned to the hill-tribes of Northern Thailand, hired the same driver she used on her trip to Angkor, a young Cambodian by the name of Mr Kunn. I didn't realize until he turned up that morning that he was a guide, and not a driver. Not only did this cost me an extra $14 per day (a fortune in S.E Asia) but it also cost me my freedom. By 10am, five hours into my day, I was sick of him. And the feeling was reciprocated. He was small and annoying, with the same relentless buzzing energy that wasps have when they get a whiff of your ice-cream. He was eager that I should see as much of the complex as possible in as short a time-frame. I was eager to daydream my way around the ruins, my trance-like state enhanced by the serene smiles adorning the huge sculptures. So I managed to lose Mr. Kunn for a little while, and found myself reunited with three sirens I'd met at the sunset vantage-point the previous evening - Sadie, Nick and Erica. They'd seen me speeding along in the shit-spattered Camry, surrounded by Cambodians and lychees, two days previously, and we'd decided to loaf around the temples together at some point. They rescued me from the clutches of Kunn with the charm and guile of Charlie's Angels - I was totally sick of him by the time they arrived, and was delighted to see him dumbstruck and baffled at the prospect of managing four inattentive and hyperactive westerners. So I left them with him for a while, until the crafty Kunn caught up with me, whining plaintively "Mr Simon, Mr Simon. We have much to see. Please will you accelerate?" I did nothing of the sort, and dawdled defiantly. We managed to make it through the day without my firing him, but the following day he sent me a driver called "Solo" who spoke no English and waited for me while I did my own thang. The best way. I recommend it highly.
So yes. Angkor - it's simply superb. By comparison, the Vatican looks vulgar, the Parthenon puerile, Istanbul inconsequential. See it before you die.
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