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Published: February 13th 2008
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Kneeling down with two aged nuns near a smoking bunch of incense sticks, I would never thought this was one of the most visited spots of the country's most popular destination. Tourism in Cambodia lives for the temples of Angkor, the country's symbol and once one of Asia's most important cities. And yet here I am in Angkor Thom having my arm stroked in thanks for promising to send prints of the photos I've just taken.
As I experienced this kind of reception again and again, just yards from the paths trodden last year by two million people, I was puzzled at how these locals could be so open. A little later something happened which made me realise what it could be.
I was chatting with some very young monks at the edge of a temple's perimeter, taking photos, showing them, trying to make them laugh. Over my shoulder I hear someone abruptly say to me, "Could you step aside please, and let the rest of us take pictures." Turning round, I saw a small crowd had gathered around us, all now happily snapping the next 'sight' on their tour; no asking, no smiles, nothing.
It simply
doesn't occur to most tourists here, when they get off their their buses, to interact with the people around them. If the people I approached in the woods, by the road, even in the temples themselves - in short anyone not trying to sell something - had every vagrant sight-seer coming up to make silly signs at them, they certainly wouldn't have been so welcoming.
That can't be all though. I've been to places with a relative trickle of tourists where foreigners are treated with the utmost mistrust from the off. These people, then, are essentially just among the friendliest ever.
On the bus from Phnom Penh to Siem Reap I was sat next to three Chinese guys from Shenzhen. What a coincidence! I thought. You don't see many mainlander tourists outside China (whatever people say... they're usually Japanese or Korean). As I was chatting with them, I mentioned how rarely I actually came across genuine Chinese tourists. They frowned. Later when I set foot in the temples area, I realised why: there were at least as many Chinese as any other single nationality there, most of them chatting about how many
waiguo meinu (foreign beauties) there
were.
My first foray into the huge park that encompasses most of the ancient temples of Angkor was at sunset on the first day. You're allowed in for free after 5pm if you buy a ticket for the next day. $40 lighter, I made my way by Tuk-tuk to Pre Rup, reputedly less of a circus than the sunset 'must' of Phnom Bakheng Mountain.
Less of a circus it might have been but that still meant the crumbling edifice was coated liberally with sunsetters of every race. Which was peculiar because the sunset was nothing special at all, the view over the pancake flat, forested land receding into the dust was relatively plain and in fact, the only thing worth seeing was the very building everyone was sitting on in crepuscular anticipation.
The next day Judith, the German girl I teamed up with for cost-sharing, and I met up with Sa'wan at 5.30 to begin the 'petit circuit', starting with Angkor Wat for sunrise.
Again, more people than the event should warrant, but at least they mostly clustered at one end of the mozzie-infested lake and left the delicately lit relief carvings of the interior
to the few of us who abandoned the orange disc.
There's really no way to describe it. After the photos and descriptions of hundreds of others, it's no surprise - you know how it looks. But somehow it still hits you in the chest somewhere. Two million tourists or not, it's an amazing, otherworldly place.
Between temples, two of the tribe of little girls selling photocopied Lonely Planets, or jewellery, or occasionally obscure little musical instruments for "One doh-llar!", pattered up to me.
"Where are you from?" she said.
"Scotland," I said, avoiding another 'Manchester United! Beckham! Lovely jubbly!' torrent, and interested to see what they would come up with in their eternal quest to please every nation of the globe.
"Capital: Amsterdam," they shouted in unison.
"No!"
"Capital: Edinburgh!" they shouted, slapping themselves on the forehead and sloping off in the shame of their mistake.
I also tried 'Slovakia' which usually just left them standing, dazed.
The 'petit circuit' took us round from Angkor Wat round to Angkor Thom (a large city complex comprising many temples itself) then to Takeo and Ta Prohm. At every stop we
infuriated Sa'wan by setting a meeting time of several hours hence, stretching the takes-as-long-as-it-takes tour till sunset.
We timed it to arrive at Ta Prohm by mid-afternoon when the light was softening and the extraordinary tree- and vine-covered temple would look its haunting best. The temple is in a worse state than most others as the conservation team assigned to it have decided to leave the plant-life be, in the interest of its 'picturesque appearance'. These 'Spung' (or
Tetrameles nudiflora Datiscaceae, for those interested) trees spill over walls and through cracks, and sometimes grow up from on top of the building itself, giving the impression of man's construction reincorporated into nature.
Passing on the sunset itself, we headed back to the guesthouse to take advantage of the rooftop bar and a well-earned refrigerated beverage.
On the third day I rented a bike to explore some of the smaller temples independent of the tour coaches and rude German women. Reaching the park perimeter, I turned right instead of left like the standard clockwise circuit and after several dusty kilometres came to Prasat Kravan. The monument was deserted except for a team of blue-clad leaf-sweeping women, all glad for
the opportunity to take a break and share a joke the inquisitive foreigner.
Next was the completely deserted Prasat Batchum, an additional three kilometres off the road. It was pleasant enough to simply sit under one of the bound-together towers and watch the feral chickens sunbathing on the road.
Before the morning got too scorching, I cycled back into town to avoid over-exposure (to temples), returning at about three to revisit Angkor Wat and then climb the infamous sunset hill in time to see about three people kicked in the face scrambling up the steep steps of Phnom Bakheng to catch a prized glimpse of another perfectly ordinary sunset.
Highly satisfied by the days exertions I sat down (carefully though, with a very bruised bottom!) to spend the evening with a couple of gap-yearers, sad to be leaving the next morning but happy not to have got sick of the sight of temples (and tourists).
Don't forget to click on the pictures for much better quality versions!
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Jackie
non-member comment
we agree!
Hi Jay Totally agree with you on the friendly Cambodians, my husband and I visited in October 2007 and just found every local we met to be welcoming and we spent hours talking to the Monks at Angkor Wat. We too were dismayed when other tourists were rude and didn't ask anyones permission to take photos, indeed some ignored the monks completely - taking photos of themselves instead. We felt honoured that so many people took the time to explain their history and culture with us, we'll never forget it. Loved your photos too !! Happy Travelling.