Thieves in the temple (Kampong Cham, Siem Reap, Angkor Thom, Cambodia)

We were awake at 5:30am, dear reader. Our bags were outside our stateroom before the appointed hour and we were seated at breakfast shortly after 6:15. Breakfast was the usual affair, although we had been warned by our tour guide not to imbibe too much coffee or tea because of the long bus trip ahead. (He was concerned about incontinence amongst his charges). Service was perhaps a little slow. I think they were focussed on the arriving crowd rather than the departing group.

I discovered something else last night, dear reader. There is a coffee machine on our level. A real one with beans that need to be ground. The working class boy inside of me eschewed the concept of our “butler” providing us with a morning coffee and now it was time to regret. We could have been having proper coffee every morning. Ah well.

Everyone assembled in the lounge at 7:40 for the final disembarkation from the Mekong Serenity. We were back in our three colour groups, one specially modified bus (allegedly) per group. Apparently, a number of seats had been removed to provide more space to stretch your legs. It is, after all, a 5 and a half hour bus trip to Siem Reap.

The seats were certainly larger than usual, think Business Class on a plane plus they had a foot rest and could also decline. I was more interested in sitting my seat up straighter and tried to adjust the seat back. The end result was my seat reclined into the lap of the person behind me. All much to Jayne’s amusement. “Oh, Liz, you could give Brad a head massage while we drive along!” she managed to get out between fits of laughter.

Seat re-positioned, I extracted the computer from my pack and began editing photos and catching up the blog.

We stopped after an hour for people to use the “happy room”. They are unable to say toilet over here. Maybe it’s an APT thing. The toilets were quite visible, to the amusement of some. The urinals may as well have been on the driveway for all the privacy they offered. The women’s toilets were more secluded and, hanging on a hook by the mirror, was a grimy green comb, presumably for anyone to neaten up their hair before resuming their journey.

Back on the bus, I had just settled into writing the blog and the announcement was made that we were stopping again. I swear we hadn’t been driving for more than 20 minutes. Anyway, we stopped at Preypors River. Actually, it’s more of a lake, which apparently never dries up and is obviously a major stop for APT tour buses. 

This was not a mat.

The complex consists of a restaurant, takeaway fast food and a souvenir shop full of weird toys, packets of strange food, along with clothing and other keepsakes that we have seen in countless markets along the trip.

The "special" view. Not so special. A lake, not a river.

The takeaway was doing a roaring trade, especially in ice creams, but they actually had a real coffee machine and the temptation to try a decent coffee, after several weeks of disappointment, became overwhelming. An espresso was ordered and, while it was delivered in a paper cup, joyously it contained the best coffee since leaving Australia!

Barbequed salted fish, anyone?

While I luxuriated in sipping this liquid gold, we wandered out the back to the restaurant on the lake to sit and take in the view. The lakeview, however, was hard to focus upon since, hanging all the way along the edge of the roof, was a series of clear plastic bags, tied up by string and each showcasing liquid of varying colours: red, green, yellow. A couple had presumably suffered a rupture and were flapping emptily in the light breeze. But the rest glinted in the sunlight, dancing and posing the question, “Why?” No answer was forthcoming and so we re-boarded the bus, bound for one more detour before our intended destination, Siem Reap.

Just weird.

The bus rolled into the carpark of a large complex, 5 minutes from our hotel, so that we could all obtain a temple pass that would be used over the next two days to allow us to enter the precinct for which Siem Reap is world renowned. These passes are mandatory and their pre-purchase expedites the entry of large groups of people into the UNESCO listed 401 square kms parcel of land that houses many temples. This site would be where we would be spending the majority of our time over the final days of the APT tour. Perhaps it should be renamed an AFT tour. Come on dear reader, use your imagination, you can work it out.

Our temple pass, valid for three days over the next week, comes resplendent with our photos. The process of getting our photos taken and having the passes in our hands was remarkably efficient. However, the photos. Oh my! The camera must have been “made in China” a line which is a local joke. My likeness bears a stronger resemblance to Barnaby Joyce than it does me. On second thought, I’m not even certain the beetrooter could go that red in the face.

We later learned that these passes also provide a donation of $2 per pass towards the provision of a free children's hospital and maternity unit for the local community - a precious resource in this developing country.

The welcome at the hotel.

We arrived at the Sofitel in Siem Reap to collect our room key and have a quick light lunch. Then it was straight to our room where our bags were waiting at the door. My Accor membership paid dividends once again and we had been upgraded. Our suite comes with a sitting room and a bowl of fresh fruit.

Almost more space than at home.

Then it was back to foyer to board our buses for Angkor Thom which translates as ‘great city’. The temple passes were clipped at a checkpoint and then we were required to change from the big bus to a Toyota Coaster. They limit the size of the vehicles in particular areas of the park to minimise vibration and to fit through narrow ancient stone entry points. The first stop was the Bayon Temple, also known as the temple of the faces for reasons that are obvious when you see the photos.

The money shot.

The whole area is surrounded by a moat that is 100 metres wide and access was across a narrow bridge and through a gate in the wall. The bridge was adorned with statues of the heads of gods on one side and demons on the other. We scheduled a photo opportunity on the return journey.

Watching out of the corner of his eye.

Ever feel like you're being watched?

Our guide, Reaksmey, was brilliant and he steered us away from the big crowds to the best vantage points. It really is a special place and I was constantly imagining how the temples and other structures originally looked. From Bayon, we visited the Terrace of the Elephants, a long, elevated platform with an edifice of elephants on both sides where the king would watch parades and games of polo. No really, polo. The grassed area directly in front of the relief was extremely boggy and I didn't have the big telephoto lense.

The wall of elephants.

In discussing our experiences later that evening, it became apparent that we really did win the tour guide lottery. People from the other two groups didn’t get to see some of the things we saw, or indeed do some of things we did. We were the only group to climb the steps to the king’s platform.

The climb up to the King's platform.

Looking down on the peasants. Well peasant.

We retraced our route and stopped briefly on the other side of the bridge where it began to rain. How refreshing. I was unconcerned because I couldn't get any wetter than I was already.

All in a row.

A close up of a god.

We drove to our original bus and returned to the hotel to remove our dripping wet (perspiration, not precipitation) clothes and prepare for dinner. The afternoon temperature had reached over 30° and the humidity was over 75%. Combine that with the distance walked and the fact that some areas lacked any breeze and it made us all pretty moist. Not in a good way.

One of the garden ponds at the hotel.

Dinner was a “freedom of choice” affair and a number from our original entourage chose to dine at Malis. The food was very good but the entrée serves were ridiculously large. The bowl of noodles we were individually served, could have fed 2 or 3 people. At another table that was not part of our group, the same meal was served and it was half the size. None of us consumed the entire dish because we wanted to be able to eat the main. Service was slow and inconsistent and, overall, the night was not a brilliant success.

The tuk tuk drivers that earlier had delivered us to the restaurant, waited outside to return us safely to the Sofitel hotel. We were driven home via Pub Street. This is the place where it all happens. Apparently. It was loud and neon lit at the entrance: not really my style. Perhaps I’ll check it out during the day.

Back at the hotel it was strictly time for bed. We have a 4:15am wake-up call tomorrow to see the day dawn over Angkor Wat.

Although we didn't see any thieves in the temple, I'm sure they preceded us by many years. The British Museum would have been among them as they "acquired" exhibits. Anyway, this is a classic by Prince. Enjoy.

Until next time.