Dawn at Angkor

With a sense of great anticipation, I virtually leapt out of bed when my alarm started beeping at 5.15 the following morning. I packed light – just water, guidebook and camera – but after the chilly pre-dawn bike-ride to Prasat Preah Vihear I was wise enough to don a fleece to fend off the cold. We were soon speeding towards the temples, joining an ever-thickening throng of motos, cars and moto-remorques. The sheer number of tourists had me worried that my Angkorian experience wouldn’t be as personal or as unique as I was hoping. However, I also had faith in my planned route around the sites – Mr. Pol (the guesthouse owner) had informed me that my plans were very strange. Some of that, I’m sure, was just an attempt to persuade me to make greater use of his motorbike services but, if my route was ‘strange’, I figured there weren’t likely to be too many people doing the same thing. First port of call was Angkor Wat, where I was hoping to see the sun rise from behind the famous towers. There were hundreds of people sitting facing the temple at the near end of the causeway leading from the gatehouse. At first, I was able to find an isolated spot off to one side but, as more and more people arrived, this makeshift viewing platform became too crowded for my liking. I upped sticks and wandered down the causeway towards the temple walls and found, to my pleasure, that the nearer I got, the fewer people there were. Eventually, I found myself alone, leaning against the back of a lion at the foot of the stairs that lead into the wat. In the lightening gloom, the crisp silhouette of the five towers rose above the outer walls and seemed to be floating in the dawn sky. Again I felt this strange peace descending on me and for perhaps twenty minutes I sat mesmerised, watching details in the stonework emerge from the night as the sun edged closer to the horizon. Eventually though it became light enough to see that the sun’s birth would be covered by distant clouds. It would be another half-hour before the sun had climbed high enough to clear their cover and I knew that the red and orange hues I was hoping for would be long gone by then. Also, as the growing light was making it possible to inspect the stonework, people were beginning to drift down the causeway to enter the temple. I had no intention of squeezing through the crowds and peering over shoulders to see the famous bas-reliefs. Instead, I headed off to Ta Prohm with the intention of returning to Angkor Wat in the late afternoon, when I knew it would be quieter and there would be another chance to see the walls bathed in the sun’s red light.