Sunset over Angkor

Once again I was out of bed while the sun was still climbing lazily into the sky. It’s hard to have a lie-in when the world around you begins flexing its workaday muscles at the crack of dawn. The Khmers are a hard working race and, when there are twelve hours of daylight to be had, they like to take full advantage. Dogs don’t lead a pampered existence in a country that struggles to feed its children – they have only one purpose in life: as four-legged burglar alarms. Consequently, in a country where the Noise Abatement Society would resign en masse and admit defeat, they are rarely discouraged from barking. The dawn chorus of appalling Asian pop, crowing roosters, territorial canines, speeding motorbikes, construction and (inevitably) noisy throat clearing are all the alarm clock a man could need.
I packed up and wandered out into the street in search of a share-taxi to take me to Siem Reap. In no time I was surrounded by a three-deep crowd of eager cabbies, trying to usher me into a motley collection of Toyota Camrys and Nissan Sunnies. I wasn’t overly fussed as to which of these state-of-the-art limousines took me along the last 150km of my 18,000 mile journey to one of the great wonders of the world. As far as my sightseeing agenda on this trip was concerned, Angkor had been my most eagerly anticipated destination. Everything I had seen and heard about this place had placed my desire to experience it above anything else in Asia. In the world, only the lure of Macchu Pichu and the Pyramids of Giza could come close to matching the inexorable draw of this lasting testament to the power and mystique of the ancient Khmer Empire. Impatient to get there, I settled for the driver with the most passengers already signed-up.
We were soon underway and making excellent time along the, recently upgraded, National Highway 6. Tantalising appetisers had me salivating at the prospect as we closed in on Siem Reap: at one point the road crossed over an ancient Naga (mythical serpent) head bridge; away in the distance, abandoned stupas and towers dotted the horizon, confirming our proximity to the centre of an historic seat of power.
On arrival, I checked into a cheap guesthouse at the northern end of town – nearer to the main complex of ruins and far away from the main backpacker destinations. I had absolutely no intention of making any new friends while in town: I wanted to explore the temples in my own fashion, in my own timeframe…and I wanted to use the evenings to take advantage of the wireless broadband to catch up on this blog and to have some time to catch up with friends at home using msn.
I knew that if I went up to the temples after 5.00pm to buy my ticket I would get a free sunset, as the ticket wouldn’t start until the following morning. Armed with a photo and the requisite $40 for a 3 day pass, I rode up on the back of a moto with the owner of my guesthouse in good time for the setting sun. I wanted to savour my first close-up views of the sumptuous Angkor Wat, and for this reason I chose not to walk down its long causeway in the dying light of the day. Instead I asked my driver to take me to Phnom Bakheng (an early temple mountain, built about 200 years before Angkor Wat and about 1km to the north-west), from where I would be able to see the rose hues of sunset as the last rays bathed the Wat’s laterite towers. All of the major monuments from around the Angkor Era were earthly representations of the mythical Mt. Mehru, home of the gods. In its earlier, simple forms – like Phnom Bakheng – these took the form of tiered pyramids with a central sanctuary. Angkor Wat is an extravagant elaboration of the theme and was built at the height of the empire’s power and craftsmanship. The Bakheng is ridiculously popular as a sunset venue as it has a commanding view of Angkor Wat – the monument (The Bakheng) itself, literally crawling with tourists, guides and vendors. A popular way for the fat, lazy and infirm to reach the summit of the hill on which it is built, is to ride an elephant. However, at $10 a pop, I was happy using Shank’s Pony to mount the steep uneven stairway. At the top, rather than joining the melee on the Bakheng, I wondered around to the southern side of the hill and found a suitably peaceful spot, with a view through the trees back to the object of my desire. One lone Khmer girl and I shared a half-hour’s peaceful contemplation as we gazed at, what-must-be, one of the most ethereal and magical monuments ever made by human hands. I can’t describe the sense of well-being and calm that came over me as I watched the lengthening shadows creep up those magnificent walls...I just knew it was somewhere I had always wanted to be and it was as if, by fulfilling this dream, I was making a connection with an unknown past.
Back in Siem Reap, I found myself in the plush, leather-upholstered surroundings of the Foreign Correspondents Club, drinking (very slowly!) expensive beer, served by immaculately turned-out and extremely attractive and friendly staff. I wasn’t trying to recall the high-life of the London clubbing scene…merely taking advantage of the establishment’s wi-fi hotspot to use the laptop. I toddled off to bed at 10 o’clock in preparation for dawn back at Angkor Wat.