Navigating Cambodia’s Holiest Grounds

When I Say Angkor, You Say Wat

The below is a guest post written by myself, Travis. I have traveled with Simone since the high-rises of Manhattan, and he has made the mistake of granting me guest-blogger status. About me: I am a non-observing Aquarius. My latest project is a compilation of cat videos as seen through the framework of post-modernist Bratislavan literature.

Please enjoy this insight into our travels.

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A thunderous birdcall rang out over a sea of parked tuk tuks.

KA KAAKAOWW

“A Ha!” We raced towards the call! Simone had found our man — Kenny, as we usually called him — and we quickly climbed into his tuk tuk.
“On to the next, Kenny!” We told him, disregarding his latest money-for-temples sales pitch.

We were “doing Angkor Wat”, if those sorority itineraries are to be believed, and we were exhausted. We lacked sleep to begin with, due to an interesting nightbus experience the day before, and the morning’s highly touted sunrise expedition had prompted a 4:30 a.m. wake up.

The sun had risen over the temple to a score of shutter clicks — Simone’s bluetooth boom box mysteriously quiet — and we, along with the internationally diverse masses, were made to reflect on the power and beauty of an ancient civilization, on the passage of time, and eventually our own mortality.

All of that really left us famished, so we took breakfast amongst the geriatrics before setting off for more temple madness.

I silently cursed as I counted the stairs of each majestic temple we happened upon while exploring the place, the world’s largest Buddhist temple complex, a proclaimed Wonder of the World; a dump without a single escalator.

We climbed and scrambled up these colossal artifacts amidst false-alarm bathroom emergencies, architecture lessons, and conversations with a man who had worked at the same temple for eleven years, and who yelled at me to put my shirt back on. The man was clearly good at his job.

Throughout the day we went on to encounter both our barefooted pubcrawl-promoter friend, and our favorite vagabonding Swedish couple, along with a veritable division of selfie-stick-wielding tourists, all vying in their formations for control of the most photogenic angles. Horses grazed, monkeys scampered, little kids hawked goods from their cardboard concession stands. It was all very spiritual.

But it was hot and our fatigue worsened, so we told Kenny that no, we wouldn’t accept his brand new ‘just for us’ price, and decided to head for home.

Back at “I Win Hostel,” we recharged our batteries with sleep and leisure. We paid extra to use the air conditioning in our shared room, and counted it as money well spent.

After dinner we hit the town and quickly befriended some truly lovely and unique people whose names I instantly forgot. We had a raucous time both on and off of Pub Street, and the night ended in contented collapses into bed.

There was excitement and a great vitality in Siem Reap and amidst the ruins of Angkor Wat, but if we learned anything from all of this, it is that love and life are fleeting and should be enjoyed and celebrated in real time. So with that in mind, we left to go to a full moon party on a beach on an island in Thailand with 30,000 drunk people.