Si Phan Don - Don Khone

Railway hike following the old rail bed

Rusting locomotives at the abandoned rail service yard

Abandoned French loading pier

Abandoned French loading pier

Cambodia just across the river

which explains the abandoned loading pier and railway line: someone must've thought it a good idea to have a loading pier facilitating trade across or along the river and then distribute the goods via train to the surrounding area. Or vice versa. And when the French left, they took away its dreams of development with them - probably for the better.

Dong Kralor - border crossing

Stung Treng shyness

Kampong Cham to Stung Treng via Kratie

Today has been nothing short of an adventure (of sorts). It all began when I met two Israelis also on their way to Laos and decided to travel with them. Looking back, I'm still not sure if it was a good or bad idea.

Bad idea. One of them was simply unbearable: a big brutish bully; spoilt, rude and foul-tempered. Everything had to be done his way and if he couldn't get it, he'd throw a violent tantrum, hurl obscene insults in English and Hebrew as well as physically threaten anyone involved.

Traveling with him was an unpleasant experience but to be associated with a person such as himself made me feel absolutely terrible. Doesn't he know that getting angry won't get him anywhere in this part of the world? Written in retrospect: he developed malaria overnight at Stung Treng. Karma's a bitch, but for once, I'm not complaining.

Good idea. The other guy, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. Certainly more brains than brawn; he was soft-spoken and mild-mannered with a calm and rational mind. Talking with him was a pleasure as he was also quite well-travelled and had strong opinions on the places he had visited so far.

***

Kratie

Upon arriving at Kampong Cham, we tried to get to Stung Treng on the very same day. Asking around, we were told that it was impossible as the last bus had just left. Desperate not to stay at Kampong Cham any longer, we bargained hard with a taxi driver to drive us all the way to Stung Treng via Kratie for US$80. Yes, I shared a taxi with four other passengers - the driver found two other local passengers to cut down the cost. In the end, we had two sitting in the front passenger seat with us three at the back. This trip to Kratie lasted four hours.

At Kratie, we had to change taxis: this time with a total of seven passengers. Three in front, four at the back. This was one of the longest two hours in my entire life.

***

Passing through the Cambodian countryside is weird: the further we drove away from towns, the more wild and untamed the countryside became. Cultivated fields give way to wild grass. Houses become sparse and cars morph into buffalo-driven carts. Every now and then, village people can be seen herding their cows across the road. Like being home in a dream - surreal.

Angkor National Museum

Like the Cambodian Museum, I highly recommend the Angkor National Museum before you visit the Angkorian temples, especially if you're not planning on hiring a tourguide. It's a bit pricey, but you pay what you get for: a really luxurious building with spacey exhibition galleries. the halls are air-conditioned, offering respite from the heat and the amount of information is just right - not too much to overwhelm you but not too little not to learn about anything. Information on the Khmer civilization , its religion and rulers as well as its culture are disseminated by excellent use of multimedia. You'll definitely spend more than two hours here.

Roluos - Preah Ko

Roluos - Bakong

Roluos - Lolei

Bang

The ominous rumbling of a large vehicle behind me - probably a bus carting off tourists to Angkor Wat for the sunrise. Its powerful headlights light up the dark road before me instead of my weak dynamo-powered bicycle lamp. The furious roar of its engine. A loud bang and a violent jolt.

You know what they say about your whole life flashing before your very eyes just before you die? It's bullshit. Revisiting the incident, all I could think of whilst flying through the air was to stay alive. Seconds later and thump I'm on the road. Instinct tells me to breathe after having the air completely knocked out of me but the force of the impact still has my body in shock. With some effort, I manage a small gulp of air, like a gasping fish out of water. Auto-pilot takes over and I scramble to the side of the road to avoid the oncoming traffic.

Within an hour, I'm being rushed to a hospital. The sound of an ambulance's siren is not strange to me but hearing it from inside an ambulance itself, especially after being placed on a stretcher like they do on television, is surreal.

White fluorescent light on white ceiling. Beige walls. Sterile. The doctor wants to administer an anaesthetic. I refuse for many reasons: the cost (I'm not insured), the HIV scare in Cambodia and the fact that pain tells me I'm still alive. As they clean my wounds, I grip the bed railings so hard that they start to rattle.

This is where the true Cambodian spirit reveals itself and thank goodness they live up to their name. Whilst lying on the ground, I saw the bus carry on down the road and I thought the driver was going to pull a hit-and-run. Thankfully, he stopped and other motorists stopped to help. The tourist police was very helpful but I found the guy from the insurance company to be the most helpful, surprisingly. Maybe it was because I could've filed a lawsuit but didn't. All I wanted was the company to pay for the medical fees and the rented bicycle which was wrecked - (which they did). I just wanted it all to be over and done with. Besides, you can't set a price on everything: on the pain I'll have to endure? On the missed sunrise and wasted time? On distress and shock? On limbs or life itself? Ridiculous. I get further with an apology.

Looking back on the accident, I was awfully lucky. The angle of my front wheel could have been different or the vector of the force with which I was hit could have been different, and I would've been flying to the middle of the road in the path of the bus itself. I could've been decapitated, my head smashed against the front of the bus with brain splattered all over like the watermelon in seatbelt or safety helmet advertisements. The irony being that I wasn't wearing a helmet either.

Oh how weak and fragile our bodies are? Pathetic. How insignificant and puny our lives? Like the scene of the video I saw at the Reunification Palace: gun to head, bang, falls down to knees, dead. Next scene. Moving on. All I can see in my mind's eye is a candle flame. Exposed. Blow. Out. Blown out. Snuffed out. Just like that. Poof.

The thing is; everyone's going to die and to be honest, we can't control the way we die (naturally). So is there any point in trying our best to live when it's actually this hard?

I've not broken any bones. My lungs did not collapse. But I've yet to analyse any psychological effect this accident might have on my mental state. I hope it's nothing serious, if not permanent.

Angkor - Pre Rup

So I've been cycling for five days now and I'm thinking, 'Enough is enough.'

Firewood

So I'm cycling to Preah Kahn when these two little girls by the side of the road call out to me. Replying their call, I carry on with my journey. Cycling back from Preah Kahn, I see them again: this time with firewood stacked on the back seat of their bike. This is what always gets to me.

Angkor - Preah Kahn

Preah Kahn is a must-see only because it's supposedly similar to Ta Prom. However, whilst most of Ta Prom has been left to the mercy of nature with many of its structures a mere collection of large stones, Preah Kahn has undergone a lot of conservation work.


As a result, you get a good rough idea of how these temples would look like back in the days of its glory: a long symmetrical rectangular arrangement of pillared galleries and covered shrines. In fact, almost the entire part of the temple is roofed, plunging most of the temple into semi-darkness or even complete darkness where the windows - mere squares in the wall - are absent. Goodness knows how they lit up the place: candles probably.

Angkor - Neak Pean

Neak Pean is definitely one of my favourite sites. It's not even a temple, I don't think. It's basically a circular mound of stairs leading up to a shrine built in the shape of a tower. The whole structure rises up from the middle of a square hollow lined with steps. This centrepiece itself is surrounded by four other smaller and shallower but otherwise similar square hollows at each of the four compass directions.


In the past, when Angkor was the capital of the Khmer empire, every one of these hollows would have been filled with water - sacred water even. Today of course, they've all dried up and are now covered with grass. It would be prettier if they were still filled with water. And although these pools must have served a religious purpose back then, I can imagine this place being a hotspot for local children to swim in during the evenings.


I like this place because it's not a very popular site and tourists are countable with my fingers. It's so quiet and peaceful here. Ta Prom would have undoubtedly been my favourite if not for the hordes of tourists.

Angkor - Ta Som

Angkor - Ta Prom

Ta Prom: where Man and Nature engage in a battle for supremacy.


Angkor Wat and many of the other popular tourist sites are the result of decades of conservation effort - trees and undergrowth have been cleared, walls and roofs cleaned of moss, and structures have been restored or completely rebuilt.


Here, trees grow everywhere: on the walkways and in the courtyards, on walls and even on the roof of the temple. Their enormous roots search out every crevice, grow long and deep, cracking and breaking up slabs of stone in courtyards and causing walls and structures to collapse. A slow but definitely steady process of destruction.


There is a lesson to learn from Ta Prom: the impermanent nature of existence - both the works of Man or the fruits of Nature. Man set out to conquer Nature when the Khmers undertook the task of building their great city here at Angkor. After their decline and subsequent abandonment of the area, Nature sought to reclaim what was once hers. Now, conservation work is being carried out and it seems as if Man has won once again. But for how long more? One thing's for certain: not forever.

Breakfast at Bayon

Breakfast in front of Bayon again. It's cheap here so I cycled from Angkor Wat to see if it's open. It's not, so I made my way to Ta Prohm. Only a few metres ahead, the same girl calls out to me on the opposite side of the road on her bicycle heading towards her stall. She recognises me and I her.


There, I hear the music again and tracing its source, I come upon a house on stilts where the monk who resides there invites me in for a look. Inside, little children from the countryside were learning to play instruments.

Angkor - Angkor Wat III

Sitting by the northwestern baray, there's a sort of earthly peace as the sun slowly rises above the towers of Angkor Wat. Somewhere in the distance, traditional Khmer music - similar to the one I heard at the Royal Palace - floats on the early morning breeze. In the gloom just before the break of dawn, the priests carry out their ablutions. With their prayers, they celebrate the dawning of a new day.

Angkor - Angkor Wat II