Christmas Day was all about going to the airport: Once in the morning to try and confirm that Dave’s flight was still arriving in the early hours of Boxing Day as promise; and again in the afternoon with Harry, whose boyfriend had managed to book another flight to arrive at 3pm.
I cheered myself up a bit by calling everyone at home to wish them a Merry Christmas, but I was lonely – and more than a little sad – as I sat in my 1st class train compartment, looking at Dave’s empty seat as we pulled out of Bangkok station.
December 25, 2004
December 24, 2004
Christmas Cancelled
Christmas Eve dawned bright and sunny – temperatures approaching 30 degrees Celsius and (unsurprisingly) I didn’t feel myself missing the British winter – nor the awful pop music, crap television and frenetic commercialised pressure of Christmas shopping. As the day wore on, things just kept getting better: picked up the train tickets (for me and my best mate Dave, who was due to arrive in Bangkok on Christmas morning) for Samui without any trouble; found free wireless internet access and had several long pleasant msn chats with friends back home; and then discovered that Harry – one of the British girls from Serendipity Beach – was in town and arranged to meet her for Christmas Eve drinks on the infamous Khao San Road. The only slight downer was that Harry was a bit upset because her boyfriend’s flight from London had been delayed by a day and he wasn’t going to make it to Bangkok until Boxing Day. I thought it was lucky that she’d have a mate to hang out with and keep her spirits up for at least part of the wait. It certainly didn’t occur to me that her boyfriend would be on the same flight as Dave…imagining that he’d have flown from Manchester / Liverpool to a hub like Schipol and caught a connecting flight from there.
We met up that evening and I’d like to think my high spirits were doing a good job of keeping Harry’s mind occupied. It wasn’t long, however, before we’d established that Dave and Jim were actually booked on the same flight. After 2 rapid international phonecalls, my fears were confirmed and I was staring down the barrel of Father Christmas’ doom. I’d been excited about Dave’s arrival, not least in his role as present-deliverer from Blighty, but until that moment of realisation I hadn’t realised how much I was relying on him to connect me with my home, my family and my other friends. I’d enjoyed the previous 3 months immensely and, although I’d whiled away many a quiet moment reminiscing about my loved ones, it was only now that I understood just how much I missed everyone. I was devastated to say the least.
Ever a seeker of practical solutions in situations like this, I immediately went to a travel agent and bought Dave a connecting flight to Samui on Boxing Day morning – Christmas might have been cancelled, but nothing was going to stop us from getting to that Full Moon Party!
Having done as much as I could, I got back to Christmas Eve drinking…but with little gusto. Part of me was wallowing in self-pity, part was feeling for Dave, stuck in a bloody airport for Christmas. Mostly, I was just feeling unsettled because I didn’t know whether his rescheduled flight would make it in time for the big event. Dave missing the Full Moon Party would have completely defeated the object of missing his family Christmas…and I didn’t much fancy going on my own. I sloped off to my hotel two minutes after midnight, wishing Harry a Merry Christmas and arranging to meet for lunch the following day.
We met up that evening and I’d like to think my high spirits were doing a good job of keeping Harry’s mind occupied. It wasn’t long, however, before we’d established that Dave and Jim were actually booked on the same flight. After 2 rapid international phonecalls, my fears were confirmed and I was staring down the barrel of Father Christmas’ doom. I’d been excited about Dave’s arrival, not least in his role as present-deliverer from Blighty, but until that moment of realisation I hadn’t realised how much I was relying on him to connect me with my home, my family and my other friends. I’d enjoyed the previous 3 months immensely and, although I’d whiled away many a quiet moment reminiscing about my loved ones, it was only now that I understood just how much I missed everyone. I was devastated to say the least.
Ever a seeker of practical solutions in situations like this, I immediately went to a travel agent and bought Dave a connecting flight to Samui on Boxing Day morning – Christmas might have been cancelled, but nothing was going to stop us from getting to that Full Moon Party!
Having done as much as I could, I got back to Christmas Eve drinking…but with little gusto. Part of me was wallowing in self-pity, part was feeling for Dave, stuck in a bloody airport for Christmas. Mostly, I was just feeling unsettled because I didn’t know whether his rescheduled flight would make it in time for the big event. Dave missing the Full Moon Party would have completely defeated the object of missing his family Christmas…and I didn’t much fancy going on my own. I sloped off to my hotel two minutes after midnight, wishing Harry a Merry Christmas and arranging to meet for lunch the following day.
December 23, 2004
Thailand - An inauspicious start
Getting to Bangkok from Siem Reap probably appears somewhere in Milton’s seven levels of hell…and if it doesn’t it bloody well should! My guesthouse owner in Siem Reap (Mr. Pol of the Angkor Siem Reap Guesthouse, if anybody happens to be in the vicinity and would like to give him a stiff punch on the nose!) had assured me on selling the ticket – and on several further occasions! – that I would be taking a large, air-conditioned coach all the way from Siem Reap to the border…and another from the border to Bangkok. When a miserable excuse for a minibus arrived at the guest house to pick me up, he also assured me that this was merely transferring me to the bus station. After 6 hours shoe-horned into this (non-air-conditioned!) oven on wheels and bouncing up and down over every pothole crevasse, fissure, Grand Canyon and black hole on the appalling road to Poipet, I had temporarily forgotten all my affection for Cambodia. My mood wasn’t improved by sitting around on the Thai side of the border for 2 hours before the next coach came to pick us up. At least when this one turned up it actually was air-conditioned. I arrived in Bangkok late, tired and in a foul mood!
Fortunately, the hotel I’d decided on had one room left…and it was just up the road from a well-recommended restaurant. The crispy fried chicken with cashew nuts that I devoured at Vijit Restaurant was one of the finest culinary experiences I’ve had on the road. Several bottles of the local Singha beer and, all of a sudden, my days travails didn’t seem so great. The Thai reputation for hospitality was in full evidence and I found myself feeling well-disposed to my new temporary home.
Back at the hotel, things slightly derailed once again when I managed to stop the ceiling fan at warp speed, when pulling my T-shirt over my head. Still, my hand didn’t bleed too much…and the bed was comfortable enough for a good night’s sleep.
Fortunately, the hotel I’d decided on had one room left…and it was just up the road from a well-recommended restaurant. The crispy fried chicken with cashew nuts that I devoured at Vijit Restaurant was one of the finest culinary experiences I’ve had on the road. Several bottles of the local Singha beer and, all of a sudden, my days travails didn’t seem so great. The Thai reputation for hospitality was in full evidence and I found myself feeling well-disposed to my new temporary home.
Back at the hotel, things slightly derailed once again when I managed to stop the ceiling fan at warp speed, when pulling my T-shirt over my head. Still, my hand didn’t bleed too much…and the bed was comfortable enough for a good night’s sleep.
December 22, 2004
Leaving Cambodia
I enjoyed two further days exploring the outlying Angkorian and pre-Angkorian sites. I saw nothing that made as big an impression on me as the places I’d seen on my first day – but the sheer number and scale of the monuments really has to be seen to appreciate what the Khmer God-Kings bequeathed us.
The early-era monuments of the Roluos group, while lacking the fine detail of later constructions, are still resplendent in their beautiful symmetry. The capacity of ancient engineers to move and store water is widely demonstrated throughout the area…long channels, huge reservoirs and ceremonial bathing pools abound.
Banteay Srei, supposedly the site of the most exquisite carving, was a disappointment because large areas (including some of the finest stonework) were cordoned off for restoration work. I didn’t take a trip out to Beng Mealea as I didn't fancy sitting on the back of a bike for the long trip. At the very least, that’s two more reasons to re-visit Angkor.
There are a vast number of international and local restoration projects going on. The French and the Japanese, particularly, seem to be taking the lead and, while more people are inevitably going to come to Angkor, it seems there will be more to see…and perhaps one day it will be possible to see the sights as their architects intended. As for me, nothing made me happier than heading back to Angkor Wat on my final afternoon to see the sun set one last time on her magical walls.
It was also a time to reflect on my Cambodian adventures before my bus journey to Bangkok. Cambodia is an incredible place. As with many parts of the developing world, there is abject poverty juxtaposed with extravagant wealth. Unfortunately, this legacy has come from the organisations trying to help the country back on its feet. The massive influx of UN-workers and a variety of NGOs with well-paid staffers has served to create a dual economy, where the poor don’t really seem to benefit from the rich tourist dollar. More than anywhere else I’ve been, the shocking lack of infrastructure away from the main tourist routes makes rural Cambodia seem very wild and remote. I truly got a sense of the ‘road less travelled’ when I ventured into the northern hills. Serendipity Beach was like being back in the Philippines. Angkor lived up to my wildest expectations. Ultimately, though, in a country with such a disturbing recent past (and living with the legacy of its un-cleared landmines) the warm-hearts and smiling faces of the Khmer people are what made my sojourn here so pleasant. To have lived through what these people lived through and to still be capable of generosity, trust and kindness is truly amazing. Cambodia, above all the places I’ve visited on this journey, has a special place in my heart. I will definitely be back.
The early-era monuments of the Roluos group, while lacking the fine detail of later constructions, are still resplendent in their beautiful symmetry. The capacity of ancient engineers to move and store water is widely demonstrated throughout the area…long channels, huge reservoirs and ceremonial bathing pools abound.
Banteay Srei, supposedly the site of the most exquisite carving, was a disappointment because large areas (including some of the finest stonework) were cordoned off for restoration work. I didn’t take a trip out to Beng Mealea as I didn't fancy sitting on the back of a bike for the long trip. At the very least, that’s two more reasons to re-visit Angkor.
There are a vast number of international and local restoration projects going on. The French and the Japanese, particularly, seem to be taking the lead and, while more people are inevitably going to come to Angkor, it seems there will be more to see…and perhaps one day it will be possible to see the sights as their architects intended. As for me, nothing made me happier than heading back to Angkor Wat on my final afternoon to see the sun set one last time on her magical walls.
It was also a time to reflect on my Cambodian adventures before my bus journey to Bangkok. Cambodia is an incredible place. As with many parts of the developing world, there is abject poverty juxtaposed with extravagant wealth. Unfortunately, this legacy has come from the organisations trying to help the country back on its feet. The massive influx of UN-workers and a variety of NGOs with well-paid staffers has served to create a dual economy, where the poor don’t really seem to benefit from the rich tourist dollar. More than anywhere else I’ve been, the shocking lack of infrastructure away from the main tourist routes makes rural Cambodia seem very wild and remote. I truly got a sense of the ‘road less travelled’ when I ventured into the northern hills. Serendipity Beach was like being back in the Philippines. Angkor lived up to my wildest expectations. Ultimately, though, in a country with such a disturbing recent past (and living with the legacy of its un-cleared landmines) the warm-hearts and smiling faces of the Khmer people are what made my sojourn here so pleasant. To have lived through what these people lived through and to still be capable of generosity, trust and kindness is truly amazing. Cambodia, above all the places I’ve visited on this journey, has a special place in my heart. I will definitely be back.
December 21, 2004
Angkor Wat
People who know me are painfully aware of how I like things to be ‘just so’. That’s only the tip of the iceberg, I’m afraid. I’m actually a full-blown anal retentive…I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’m obsessive…there’s just a certain way I like things to be. My bookshelves must have books in descending order of size (although I’m thinking of switching to a computerised Dewey-Decimal system when I get back…;-)…I’m kidding!); there’s a certain place for the cutlery; each size plate belongs in a certain part of the cupboard; if I doodle, it’s in geometric shapes…and as everyone knows, I’ve got to have a plan…for everything. Now, I’ve alluded to this in this blog before and, as I said then, one of the great joys of travelling has been the opportunity to give up some of my order-loving ways and just go with the flow. However, one thing that my structured little mind will never tire of is symmetry. (Don’t worry, I’m coming to the point now…)
At a distance, as I walked down the great central causeway to Angkor Wat, the one thing that truly struck me was the beautiful, perfect, unreal symmetry of her great towers. This overwhelming geometrical perfection had the curious effect of making the main structures appear to hover above the grassed parklands and lakes. It could have been a trick of the light or a touch of weariness after my long walk in the sun, but the laterite walls seemed to shimmer like a desert mirage and the whole impression was of seeing something that wasn’t really there. Of course, I’d seen photos of Angkor before and I’d read many books about the monuments and their religious and cultural significance. However, as you come through the doorway of the outer gatehouse, nothing can prepare you for the ethereal sight that greets your eyes. The great stone causeway draws your eye several hundred metres to the temple steps, where this unearthly monument rises up to meet the deep blue sky. Seeing it in all its glory in the afternoon sun, literally stunned me. It must have caused me to gasp out as well because, when I noticed people eyeing me quizzically, I also realised I’d forgotten to breathe in again. Never has a man-made artefact had such an effect on me. I doubt the photos here will induce the same effect for you but, having witnessed this incredible illusion, I only need to see these pictures to see the temple floating again.
One of the unusual features of Angkor Wat is that it faces West (the direction of death). There is still some debate as to the Wat’s primary function, but this unusual orientation has led some scholars to claim that it was built primarily as a mausoleum. Yet the functional aspects, the powerful spirituality of the architecture and the fact that it seems to have been in use since its construction (a major factor in the startlingly good level of preservation) have led many to believe that it served a dual purpose, as both mausoleum and working temple. It is another (highly elaborate) symbolic representation of the mythical Mount Mehru and, as such, travelling through its outer precincts and climbing up into its central sanctuary is like journeying to heaven. In no hurry to make this spiritual transcension, I savoured each level and layer for its beauty and appreciated the role each part played in this enormous symmetrical puzzle’s whole.
From the bas-reliefs in the outer galleries, to the beautifully constructed libraries, the stonework and carving have an exquisite precision. I tried to imagine the pools filled with dark water, reflecting the soaring towers in brilliant sunshine. Climbing almost vertical steps gave the impression of how difficult the spiritual journey should be and looking out, down the towers and across the walls to the surrounding grassland, I felt remote and majestic on my lofty throne. Scurrying beneath me, like ants on the march, the tourist hordes were my loyal subjects, come to pay their dues. It is an unusual and overpowering place and, as I retired to the terrace to watch the sun’s evening colours play, I felt light-headed as I tried to shake of Angkor Wat’s bewitching spell. If there’s one place I’d recommend anyone to visit in Asia…this is it!
At a distance, as I walked down the great central causeway to Angkor Wat, the one thing that truly struck me was the beautiful, perfect, unreal symmetry of her great towers. This overwhelming geometrical perfection had the curious effect of making the main structures appear to hover above the grassed parklands and lakes. It could have been a trick of the light or a touch of weariness after my long walk in the sun, but the laterite walls seemed to shimmer like a desert mirage and the whole impression was of seeing something that wasn’t really there. Of course, I’d seen photos of Angkor before and I’d read many books about the monuments and their religious and cultural significance. However, as you come through the doorway of the outer gatehouse, nothing can prepare you for the ethereal sight that greets your eyes. The great stone causeway draws your eye several hundred metres to the temple steps, where this unearthly monument rises up to meet the deep blue sky. Seeing it in all its glory in the afternoon sun, literally stunned me. It must have caused me to gasp out as well because, when I noticed people eyeing me quizzically, I also realised I’d forgotten to breathe in again. Never has a man-made artefact had such an effect on me. I doubt the photos here will induce the same effect for you but, having witnessed this incredible illusion, I only need to see these pictures to see the temple floating again.
One of the unusual features of Angkor Wat is that it faces West (the direction of death). There is still some debate as to the Wat’s primary function, but this unusual orientation has led some scholars to claim that it was built primarily as a mausoleum. Yet the functional aspects, the powerful spirituality of the architecture and the fact that it seems to have been in use since its construction (a major factor in the startlingly good level of preservation) have led many to believe that it served a dual purpose, as both mausoleum and working temple. It is another (highly elaborate) symbolic representation of the mythical Mount Mehru and, as such, travelling through its outer precincts and climbing up into its central sanctuary is like journeying to heaven. In no hurry to make this spiritual transcension, I savoured each level and layer for its beauty and appreciated the role each part played in this enormous symmetrical puzzle’s whole.
From the bas-reliefs in the outer galleries, to the beautifully constructed libraries, the stonework and carving have an exquisite precision. I tried to imagine the pools filled with dark water, reflecting the soaring towers in brilliant sunshine. Climbing almost vertical steps gave the impression of how difficult the spiritual journey should be and looking out, down the towers and across the walls to the surrounding grassland, I felt remote and majestic on my lofty throne. Scurrying beneath me, like ants on the march, the tourist hordes were my loyal subjects, come to pay their dues. It is an unusual and overpowering place and, as I retired to the terrace to watch the sun’s evening colours play, I felt light-headed as I tried to shake of Angkor Wat’s bewitching spell. If there’s one place I’d recommend anyone to visit in Asia…this is it!
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