| Dawn over Angkor Wat. Takes a lot to get me out of bed. Posted Saturday, 04 November 2006 | ||
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| In a cunning play on words one of the biggest bars in Siem Reap is called 'Angkor What?' - a very big nod to the very big complex of temples just down the road. In a less cunning play on words 'Angkor What?' is located, along with many establishments of its kind, on Bar Street. Bar Street is, perhaps, Cambodia at it's most stark; a country running full pelt away from its dark past but still yet to reach its bright future. On Bar Street all the Western sensual neon lit pleasures are to be enjoyed, but how does one sup one's ice cold beer without being interrupted by a local in a town reliably known as the hassle capital of South East Asia? How can one watch Liverpool vs. Arsenal without guilt in a place where the beggars are the most pitiful, the most persistent and the most numerous? The solution, on Bar Street at least, to save the average backpacker the indignity of having to tell a blind man playing an accordion to stop blocking the view of the football, is that the authorities have simply barricaded each end of the street and stop anyone slightly dirty or carrying an accordion from getting in. Is the begging as bad as people say? Well, yes. Mucky-faced children, smaller siblings balancing on their shoulders, roam the streets in a money-extracting competition with an old lady or two, eyes flooded with tears, hands clasped together impeaching you for a dollar or two. But, awfully, you get used to them. You avoid the hot hassle spots when you can and you get used to saying 'no'. Maybe you try and hand out pens and food, but most want hard currency. You might walk away and some will follow, and some won't. In the end I felt much better giving a blind lady $5 for an hour long massage knowing she had a trade and a kid to support. As with much of Asia you either get with or get out of there. But if you can learn to relax about it and even have a laugh with the kids (who, it’s easy to forget, are still only kids) it won't get to you. In the Khmer language Siem Reap means 'Siam defeated'. In truth, however, Thailand has always been rather better at overrunning Cambodia while Bangkok has rarely been in danger of a Khmer army. But like the way Waterloo keeps its name as London's Eurostar terminal, despite it commemorating a great English victory over the French, so the Cambodians are in no rush to rename towns for modern mores or historical reality. The city is at once covered in red billowing dust and yet dotted with manicured expanses of watered lawns; it's a town of dirt poor beggars and moneyed tourists, of pavement noodle stalls and cool Japanese coffee shops. People who wouldn't touch the rest of Cambodia with a sanitised barge pole jet in from Bangkok and Singapore for the weekend just to zoom around the enormous Temples of Angkor and get out again as fast as their Visa cards will take them. Because of this Siem Reap is dotted with luxury hotels - the Le Meridians and Sofitels of this world. They sit there in verdant splendour like it's normal to have a heated pool and solarium metres from a child who's only entertainment is pulling a flip flop attached to a piece of string across a dirty potholed track. But ask any local and they'll tell you serving the needs of cashed-up tourists is a whole heap more fun and profitable than ploughing the local fields. The green shady banks of Siem Reap’s river give the place an elegance sometimes lacking in some other Indochinese cities; while in some parts of the town, where the alleyways narrow and become clogged with restaurant tables and the buildings become whitewashed with mopeds leaning against their walls, it feels more like the Med than the Mekong. But there’s only one reason we’re all really here - Angkor Wat and its fellow temples. The Lonely Planet says you should spend at least three days at Angkor, if not seven, soaking up the ancient atmos of these temples erected to the Hindu gods and assimilated into the Buddhist faith. Yer, whatever - we spent one day. You could spend several days and do it at a slower pace but we were tight with cash and time so had a long and exhausting day that lasted from dawn to dusk. But it was magnificent. Dawn over the iconic Angkor Wat towers, breakfast by the enigmatic faces of Bayon, lunch at the elephant carvings of Angkor Thom and the afternoon at hidden temples lurking in forests that are so old mature trees have sprung from their ruins. Finally, near dusk, the ruin of all ruins - Ta Prohm - where huge spaghetti like branches of the silk cotton tree slowly strangle the stone walls. And you can walk all over it and speed up its demise - like holding a blow torch to the Great Barrier Reef. Marvellous. Also, like Siem Reap, it’s a top place to get children forcing you to buy stuff. We get to a restaurant and - wham - four kids are around us, charming and fluent in English but with one goal - your dough. They played a game with us - the capital cities game. If they can't name the capital city of a country you name, they go away; if you can't name the capital city of a country they name - you buy. So you start, easy like because they're only six or something "What's the capital of the UK?", "Umm", says the urchin, pausing for thought as a look of confusion darts across the face, "London?" The child asks tentatively. Well done. Then they ask you "What's the capital of France." "Oh," you say, playing along, "Is it, umm, Paris?" One to you. "Australia", you say, making it a little trickier for the blighters "Canberra!" OK - not so stupid then. Then they turn to you with a knowing smile and a cheeky grin "What's the capital of..." Holland, you're thinking, maybe New Zealand? "What's the capital of...Madagascar?" Madagascar? Madafuckinggascar? Who the hell knows that? "Madagascar Ville? Port-au-Madagascar?" You say knowing your fate. "Nope." And then game over, check mate, and you come home with a full-colour illustrated book on the temples, a golden monkey key ring, a bouncy toy made of plastic feathers and a wooden twig which sounds like a didgeridoo if you twang it. Some people may have received these as gifts. | ||
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