Day 239 - SNOW!!!!!!

IT'SSNOWINGIT'SSNOWINGIT'SSNOWING!!!!!!!! Only flurries, but still, fluffy white bits tumbling out of a cloud-dark sky. I love snow, and this is my first snow in over a year. SNOW!!!!....And two days ago we were in t-shirts and shorts fighting off mosquitoes.

But that's just this evening. Once we shook off the two hour jet lag, we had a culture-filled day.

One of the plays we designed at UW was Oh Tae Sok's Intimacy Between Father and Son. The play is based on real events which took place in the 18th century during the Choson (Jeoson/ Joson) Dynasty. Documentation of the events ranges from royal papers supporting the king, to the published memoirs of the widow of the son he murdered, and none is even remotely unbiased. The tangled interpersonal relationships within the 18th century court mirror the complicated relationship of North and South Korea, and in fact, the original 1970's production made use of these parallels. All of this would have been valuable information on the project, yet most keys to discovering it remain firmly locked in-country.

Over the centuries, Korea had been invaded, occupied and torn apart. Victors and the powerful write the history books, dooming Korea to a fragmentory shadow in most Westerners' minds. For that show, most of us spent hours combing every library on campus, and coming up with a wealth of images from Japan and China, but virtually nothing from Korea. We have been lucky to uncover some of it in our short time here, but I feel that the full complexity of the play cannot be understood without 3000 years of history and a DMZ at the back door.

Being in South Korea is an interesting experience. There are hoardes of tourists, but mostly from Japan or other parts of Korea. We have seen very few Westerners at all, and of the few we have talked to, most, like us, did not initially plan on coming here. It almost feels like a forbidden kingdom, an unknown place, even though its doors have been open longer than most of the other countries we have visted over the past months.

South Korea is rarely on the front pages, but it is an economic powerhouse, boasting the 34th highest GDP per capita in the world. Among all the modern wealth and bustle, there remains a palpable sense of the past. Ancient palaces and temples rub shoulders with modern high-rise buildings. Rituals and relics of its agrarian past are carefully preserved in courtyards alongside highways teeming with modern SUV's. And lurking behind it all is the memory of repeated invasions by China and Japan, and the ever present shadow of the DMZ and the armies of the North sitting just 60Km from Seoul.

Today we visted Gyeobungkun Palace. As we left our guesthouse, we heard drumming and other music coming from a courtyard nearby. The gate was open, and we were greeted by a group of musicians, and scattered clumps of people trying on traditional Korean dress, and playing traditional games from the countryside. We assumed the merriment was to celebrate the new year (this assumption ws later confiremed at the folk museum - these sorts of games have been played every New Year for at least 1500 years).

As we walked, we passed a restaurant wth pictures of the food in the wndow. In a country that doesn't use the Roman alphabet, and in which English not widely spoken, a pictorial menu is a great invention. We each pointed to dishes what looked tasty, and were pleasantly surprised when the meals that appeared actually looked nicer than the pictures. We've never had that happen before!

By the time we finished lunch, we were too late to catch the tour of the palace complex nearest our guesthouse (which I just discovered is where the historical events of the play actually happened), but instead opted to visit Gyeongbokgung Palace, the largest palace in Seoul. In addition to the Josen buildings, the complex also houses several museums dedicated to preserving Korean art and culture.

We arrived right at 2PM, just in time to watch the changing of the guard. Like the beefeaters in front of Buckingham, the Korean palace guards never change expression as they stand before the palace. The changing of the guard involved all the usual pomp and ceremony, including a large drum, exchanging of secret passwords and identity cards, and salutes with swords. For one moment before the crowd surged forward to begin their palace tours, the guards appeared to stand alone and at attention before the massive gate.

The architecture inside the complex mirrored that of the outer wall and gate. Graceful curved roofs with elaborately painted eaves shelters austere rooms with minimal furnishing. Most traditional Korean homes are heated through ondol, or under-floor heating systems. As a result, life is lived near to the ground, with no need for the glut of furniture found in European palaces.

The finest of the museums was the Museum of Folk Culture. Our experience was greatly enhanced by an enthusiastic English interpreter/curator/volunteer guide who walked us through each exhibit. Through him, we learned that not only is kimchi a tasty snack, but that it is internationally recognised as one the 5 healthiest foods in the world. In previous centuries, Koreans would ferment huge vats of kimchi underground. Today, most Seoulites live in apartments, but they still make their own kimchi, and have even invented a special kind of refrigerator just for that purpose!

In the rural village part of the museum, he explained the symbolism and reasons behind everything from the village totem poles to the layouts of the houses. Had he not been there we would not have learned half as much as we did. There were placards explaining some things, but nothing so good as a some one who really knows and loves the meanings and histories of things walking you through them step-by-step.

I was especially excited about the costume exhibits. Most of the garments represtented different classes and professions from the Choson dynasty. If we did Intimacy Between Father and Son again, I could design the hell out of it!

This evening we ventured out to find winter woolies for Cz. As noted in the title of the post, while we were eating dinner, it began to SNOW. Cz was made doubly happy that we found a woolie hat, sweater, and scarf with minimal hunting.

As we walked the market and tucked into our pizza dinner, we were struck by the similarities between Seoul and NYC. Not just the weather, but the skyscrapers, the lights, even the extremely fashionably dressed couples breezing past in their identical black coats.

In other ways, Seoul reminds me of Europe. Just as 10th century cathedrals loom over modern city blocks in England and France, in Seoul, 13th century belltowers surprise in the shadow of ultra-modern skyscrapers. We took these pictures from the same street corner in our neighborhood. In one direction, a tiny park with a belltower from the 14th century, in another, the Jongho Tower, a monument to modern consumerism.

We have only been in Seoul 2 days, and are already feeling easy and comfortable because it is so like NYC, but at the same time bowled over by the sudden influx of history we never knew. Be prepared for more long-winded history and politics laden posts. I won't be offended if you just look at the pretty pictures.

Day 235 - Happy Chances

The Chiang Mai University which is near our hostel has an attached gallery. Said gallery is usually closed on Mondays, but I had seen a neat exhibit through the window when I passed by after closing on Sunday, and wanted to show Cz. When we arrived, the doors were open. Perplexed, we wandered in, and no one tried to stop us. The exhibit was called "In My Mother's Footsteps", about a woman who goes back to Germany and later Eastern Europe to trace the route her mother took during the Holocaust as a Jewish prisoner. It was a very good exhibit, and there is apparently a documentary film coming out about it if you are curious.

Better though were the exhibits upstairs. Little did we know, but we had stumbled into the last-minute setup of the undergrad thesis shows. Much of their work was far better than even grad level work at home, and we were duly impressed. That said, we couldn't help but feel a little warm and fuzzy nostalgia as we watched the kids frantically painting, stapling, and installing away.

After the museum, we debated having a sushi lunch or visiting the Wat nearest to our guesthouse. Luckily Wat won out - sushi is everywhere, Thai Wats, only Thailand. We were well-rewarded. This was the finest wat so far in Chiang Mai. The golden Chedi housing the Buddha relics sits serenely over a cluster of shining white stupas containing the ashes of departed royal family members. The temple itself had been destroyed over the centuries, but the golden Buddha collection still stands proud ina lovely painted shelter with some traditional architectural details. Best of all, there were only two other foreign visitors. Everyone else there were monks or locals. It was a fine way to end our Chiang Mai sightseeing.

We still had time for a quick late lunch, and indulged ourselves in another round of Mike's burgers before grabbing our packs and heading out to the train station.

When we arrived at our platform, the grimy cars and diesel-belching engines did not inspire confidence. When we purchased our tickets, all the cheap sleepers were sold, so we had to splash out on 2-tier AC (for all of $22 each for a 14hour night train). That was the best thing that could have happened to us. When in seat position, the chairs were soft and huge enough to curl up it. The train flashed through the mountains with nary a curve nor a bump - far better than a bus. We played cards on the nearly full-sized table provided us until bedtime. And then the real treat.

The seats tranformed into two almost twin-size beds one above the other. Not only that, but they came with 2" thick mattresses (on top of the already nice surface), sheets, pillows, a blanket, even curtains to block out light and noise from the other berths.

We should arrive in Bangkok bright eyed and bushy tailed with this kind of service.

Day 234 - White Elephants Cannot Be Trusted

According to legend, when a new Buddha relic was discovered by the king of Chiang Mai, no one could decide where to build a temple to house it. The king decided to put the relic on the back of a white elephant (sacred animal, but not too bright) and release him in the center of town. Wherever the elephant stopped, the temple would be built.

The elephant headed for the hills. Literally. He marched himself about 6km out of town before stopping on a crest overlooking the budding city. So a Wat and Chedi (Thai stupa - where Buddha relics go) were built on the spot. With the advent of automobiles, a winding road was subsequently added. And I do mean winding with bonus ups and downs.

By the time we arrived at the top of the hill all we could do was stare dizzily about and rub our roiling bellies. Dread in anticipation of the ride down did not improve moods.

We did manage to coax ourselves into the cablecar and the rest of the way up the hill to the Wat (That was one ambitious elephant!). The Wat itself was nice, but not any nicer than others we have visited. Same for the view over town - nice, but we've seen better. Furthermore, the whole complex was crawling with people, and the whole thing felt rather touristic. Of course this is probably coloured by the fact that we still hadn't completely recovered from the ride up.

We did meet this fellow guarding one of the entrances. Someone clearly had a 'complicated' relationship with their parents.

The ride down the hill was nearly as bad as the ride up. We didn't toss our cookies, but our tummies made their displeasure known for the rest of the day.

The owner of our hostel was a tourguide before going into hostelling, and so arranges outings for anyone who cares to join nearly every day. Today's agenda was to visit the oldest Wat in town, the first section of the city to be built, adn the Sunday Night Market, the biggest and best in town.

We began at the old Wat which was just as nice as the one on top of the hill, and far easier to reach. The light was perfect causing the old bricks and the saffron robes of the monks sweeping and tending the grounds to glow. The hostel owner was most knowlegeable, giving us not ony a brief history of the Wat, but of Thailand as a whole.

From there, we went into the old city wall where we learned more history, including the story of the ambitious white elephant. Once off the wall, it was only a short hop to the sunday market.

Every Sunday night, the two main cross streets in the old town close completely to vehicles and transform into a 2km by 2km open-air market. Anything and everything is on sale from crafts to mass produced goods to pirated CD's and DVD's. And food. Much of it is conventional (good) street fair - fruit, phad thai, spring rolls, soups - but some of it strays into the bizzare. When I say you can find any meat on a stick, I mean any meat on a stick. Including a giant cockroach. I should have made a video of me crunching him to bits to play in my kitchen in NY. It would be way safer to the cats than roach bombing...though perhaps it could put a dent in my social life...

After the market, we all piled into a shared taxi and headed back to our own quiet neighborhood. Where we had a lovely (and so conventional) soup and rice dinner before walking back to our hostel for another round of TV before bed.

Day 227 - Novice Monks...

...Are still teenage boys.

Today we decided to do a walking tour of Luang Prabang. Our first stop was the Wat right behind our guesthouse (the one whose monks we give oranges to each morning). While it did have some lovely old buildings, the best part were the novice monks living there. They lolled about studying or chatting, or goofing around in most un monk-like ways. One little monk was eating some fruit and hurled the peel at his friend. The other little monk promtly put him in a headlock and started pummling his back. Soundly proving that little monks are still teenage boys.


After all that excitement we thought it best to visit the more staid entertainment of Luang Prabang's oldest Wat, Wat Wisunalat. The Wat was nice, but no more exciting than others we've seen, but the stupa on its grounds is commonly known as 'The Watermelon Stupa'. I suspect there may have been some opium involved in that naming - though is quite plump and round like a fat watermelon. Personally I think it looks more like a bosom, but could probably get in trouble for saying so.

We continued on our walk along the smaller river flanking the city. Sounds of laughter coming from the water made us pause. A group of monks in their saffron robes were taking turns with a group of local boys in floating (and dunking each other, and tossing each other off of) a tire inner tube. I've heard that the little monks also like to practice Kung-fu (also forbidden), but that the older monks pretend not to know about it.

We tried to go to the Royal Palace museum, but it was closed. The Wat on the grounds (yes, more Wat) was open, and as gilded as one would expect a royal Wat to be.

Across the street we climbed Pu Si Hill where Wat Chomsi which offers commanding views over the city and surrounding countryside. One building was being re-painted by team of novice monks. As expected from a teenage boy paint team, they were getting nearly as much paint on each other and their robes as on the walls of the building.

Cultural duty done, we got some tasty snacks from the local street vendors, bought oranges for tomorow's alms, and picked up a few more presents from the night market.

Day 216 - The Wedding Crashers

Today we hired two drivers with their trusty Honda Heroes for a tour of the countryside around Kratie.

We began at a reconstructed temple, originally from the 16th century. The blue lights above are not fluorescent tubes, but the brilliant sky shining through slats in the wood. The temple now houses a handicrafts shop to raise money for local villagers. I came away with a pair of super-comfy braided grass flip flops. $2 well spent I think, seeing as my old sandals died in the Philippines.

From there we bumped along the dirt track to a bluff overlooking a Vietnemese fishing village floating on the Mekong. I do like the giant cantilevered fishing nets, but my favourite part of the floating villages are the little garden plots on nearly every boat. Each raft has at least one old oil drum, defunct canoe, or row of buckets brimful with herbs and vegetables.

After catching the little ferry to the island mid river, we motored up to another little bluff where there is a beach popular with the bovine crowd. The name "Kratie" actually comes from an old word in the local dialect meaning "place of the buffalo", as this is where the Mekong was tame enough, and interspersed with enough rest islands to swim herd of cattle and water buffalo across. Today it is popular with the working buffalo for a good wallow after a hard day of plowing. And in case you were wondering how cows stay so nice and white in a red-dust country, here you go.

Many people on the island make their living from processing sugar palm sap into sugar. Much like maple syrup, the sap is boiled and boiled in witch's cauldrons until it reduces to a blonde, caramel-tasting sugar. What sap is not used to make sugar is either drunk fresh, or fermented into palm wine. We were plied with several glasses of the fresh juice, which was surprisingly sweet and almost lemony tasting.

While at the sap-boiling vats, we heard some music in the distance. Our guides said it was a wedding, and asked if we would like to stop by and see a traditional Cambodian village wedding. Of course we did, and soon found ourselves not only invited, but pulled quite forcefully into the seats of honour right in front of where the ceremony would take place. All the older ladies fussed and clucked over us, bringing bottles of water and sticky rice with sugar palm fruit wrapped in banana leaves. I felt a little guilty about pulling focus away from the bride, but Cambodian weddings are far less formal and far more boisterous than our western affairs, with children running about, people chatting among themselves, and, as we discovered, an open invitation to anyone lucky enough to pass by.

After the wedding, we went to visit the family home of one of our guides. His mother owns a fruit orchard and gardens with peanuts, coconuts, grapefruit, and guava. Wielding a scythe on a long bamboo rod, our guide cut down a fresh coconut for each of us. The neighborhood chicks heard the coconuts falling and came running over to investigate. Cz created a veritable feeding frenzy when he set his half-finished coconut on the ground.

Our final stop was a Wat at which a monk had turned into a crocodile and eventually ate a local princess. There is a long and involved story leading up to the transformation involving many spells and plot twists, culminating in this monument and several temples being built along the river.

Had we more time and money, our guides were ready to take us down to see the other temples, but decided to return to Kratie by way of the next set of ferries. We arrived back at our guesthouse tired, covered in red dust, and very pleased.

No candles, but certainly a good way to spend a birthday.

Day 214 - Monuments and Museums

Today we decided to experience the brighter side of Phnom Penh. We started the day at the symbol of the city, Wat Phnom. Legend has it that a lady named Penh found 4 Buddhas washed up on the banks of the Mekong, and housed them on a hill near where she found them. The town the grew up around that hill became Phnom Penh - literally, The Hill of Penh.

Today, a simple Wat and a few stupas adorn the 27m high hill. One stupa also seemed to be home to a friendly butterfly that fluttered around and around the point, landing occasionaly nearby, and once even on my shoulder. The wat itself is very popular with students who come to pray for good grades on their exams. If they do get good marks, they return to make offerings of banannas and flowers. The offerings are much appreciated by the troupe of plump monkeys that gambol around the hill.

The hill is also home to many entrepeneurial vendors selling everything from incence for the Buddha to pickled mangos, to small birds. One purchases a bird to free it from its cage, but word has it that the birds are trained to return to the cages after liberation. Also abundant on the hill are the naked children of the vendors. They squeal, run about, and spray each other with the hoses intended to water the trees and grass of the monuments. Very cute.

From Wat Phnom, we opted to walk down the waterfront to the Royal Palace and National Museum. The riverfront is a bustling center with upmarket hotels, retaurants, and vestiges of French colonial architecture.

Wat Ounalum is tucked discreetly between the shopping area and the National Museum/Royal Palace complex. During the Khmer Rouge all of its Buddhas were therown in the Mekong or smashed. In the eighties, they were hauled out and restored - go Buddha! Anyway, when we arrived, the place was locked, and we feared that we had stumbled into a private area. Soon though, an old man came around the corner with a ring of keys and unlocked the door. The main Buddha supposedly contains an eyelash of Bhudda himself. We lit incense before that statue, and were blessed with jasmine-infused holy water.

When we arrived at The Royal Palce, it too was locked up tight. Turns out the guards lock up from 11-2 for lunch and siesta. While we decided what to do while we waited, a girl selling water came over to chat with us. She made a very persuasive argument, and we promised to buy a bottle when we returned.

The National Museum is a beautiful building with French Indochine architecture. It houses several sculptures and artifacts from Pre-Angkor Cambodia on. Best of all were the 'room o' Buddhas' and the fishponds in the courtyard. True to form, we were more excited about feeding the fish than about the exhibits.

We finished the museum at almost exactly two, and wandered back over to the now-open palace. Stuck off the end of one building in the courtyard was an incongruous, lacy white building, The Pavilion of Napoleon III. Oh, those wacky French.

The complex's claim to fame is the Silver Pagoda, which is not actually silver at all. It is so named because of its floor of several thousand silver tiles, each weighing over 1kilo. The Khmer Rouge claimed to leave the Royal Palace and Silver Pagoda intact to show their respect for Cambodia's history and culture. That said, much was still stolen or lost during their regime.

When we left the palce grounds, it was late afternoon, and consequently much cooler with nice, slanting light. We walked slowly home on the mercifully logical, gridded streets. Never again will I take for granted logical city planning!

Tommorrow morning, we depart for Kratie, then wilds of Laos. As stated in the update, don't worry if you don't here from us for a while. Computers are thin on the ground up there from what I hear.

Day 210 - Angelina Wuz Here

We spent most of the day at Tha Prohm, better known as "The Angelina Jolie Temple," or "The Tomb Raider Temple." As such, it is nearly as visited as Angkor Wat. When we arrived, there were a half dozen or more tour buses parked in front, and as many or more cars and tuk-tuks. That was at about 11:15. According to Lonely Planet, most tour groups head into town for lunch, leaving the temples pretty empty. We expected a thinning of the hordes, but nothing like the mass exodus that happened at noon on the dot. By 12:30, we had the ruins virtually to ourselves - a far cry from the maddening crowd when we arrived.

The temple itself, once everyone left, is a huge, eerie place where trees are slowly engulfing the remains of an enormous temple complex. Over a relatively short time, the Angkor Empire defeated the Jungle to build a massive capitol city. As soon as they left, the jungle set to work reclaiming its rights. In Tha Prohm it seems to be winning. Preservationists can do nothing to stop the forest, as many of the trees have wound their roots around and through the structures to such an extent that to remove them would destroy the buildings anyway.

In the afternoon, we decided to forgo further temples in favour of exploring the modern town of Siem Reap. It is amazingly Western complete with CD shops, sidewalk cafes, and bars with slick interiors and names like "Soho". There's even a gay bar called "Linga" (the word means Shiva's phallic symbol) . After scoping out the neighborhood by day, we headed back to our guest house to shower and wait until dark to see the neighborhood all lit up.

It did not disappoint. Narrow alleys came ablaze with lights and sidewalk seating. If not for the Khmer menus, it could easily have been Paris or New Orleans French Quarter. We ate dinner at Dead Fish Tower, which proudly proclaims "Don't serve Dog, Cat, Rat, or Worm"- a real concern when ordering 'unidentifiable bits soup' from street stalls. The owner of our guest house once even had his dog stolen - he found her the next day tied up in a kitchen about to be made into soup. Dead Fish's other claim to fame are its resident crocodiles. These fellows lounge in a pool near the back waiting for fish or the occasional drunk Aussie to fall their way.

After dinner, we and our friend decided to hit Linga for a few drinks. After all, how many people do you know who have frequented a gay bar in Cambodia? Linga oozed style, and would have felt just as at home in NYC or San Francisco. The clientele were an eclectic mix of backpackers, Asian 'moneyboys', and mustachioed ageing Castro Street types. We had a lovely time sipping overpriced martinis (only one each - one cost almost as much as dinner!) before that over-priced-ness, and knowledge that we had to be up at 5:00 to catch the bus to our boat tomorrow sent us home....but not before stopping at Warehouse, a pleasantly chilled out place where we opted for non-alcoholic treats for the reasons stated above.

Day 209 - Culture Vultures

That's the self-explanatory name for a tourist who wants to snap up every aspect of the culture they are visiting. And we were some intense culture vultures today. We woke up at dark-thirty in order to get a good place to watch the sunrise over Angkor Wat. It is more impressive in half light, but I was too distracted by the pony who came down to drink in the reflecting pool than any heap of stones. As the sun rose higher, we puttered around the complex admiring the light.

Soon we tired of our old friend Angkor Wat, and headed to Angkor Thom, whose main temple, Bayon is known for the giant faces carved on each side of most of its towers. We arrived early enough that the light still strafed across the faces and the tumbledown structure, making for some very dramatic shadows. Furthermore, the building had not seen so restored, and the jungle not so hacked away, so it felt much more like stumbling into an ancient world.

Best of all though were the monks. A group of monks from one the the Eastern provinces were visiting the temples of Angkor on a two day trip. Two little monks were fascinated by American tourists, and whipped out their cell phone camera (Yes, even monks carry the latest in cell phone technology) to take pictures of California Boy (a friend we met in Bangkok), and I. As we were leaving, we ran into their group again, and took turns taking pictures of each other. It was pretty funny to be the favourite subject of the Monk's pictures, when every Western tourist I know hope for a monk to cross into their frame as they snap away at the monuments.

From Bayon, we crossed the Terrace of Elephants (a terrace supported by hundreds of stone elephants), the terrace of the Leper King (a terrace supported by hundreds of stone...figures. I don't think they were lepers), and several minor temples. Finally we arrived at Preah Kahn, a good warm up for the 'Angelina Jolie Temple'(the temple that Tomb Raider was based on)

Preah Kahn from the front appeared deceptively small. Once inside however, the center corridor stretched on for 800metres (nearly a kilometre!) and the side corridors spread out to 600metres. We liked to call the palace the ranch home of Angkor Wat, as it was all one level, but sprawled out in a labyrinth of corridors and chambers. It too was partially consumed by the jungle, with parts collapsed completely. Signs warned tourists to check for 'live stone movement' before going under/any arch, as the last big collapse wast as recent as 1999.

By early afternoon, we had been looking at ruins for over eight hours, and were pretty well knackered. It took some doing to find a tuk-tuk driver willing to take us home for a reasonable price, but finally we agreed on a fare and returned to the guesthouse for showers, naps, and postcard-writing.

At 5-sh, we visited the local market street where hawkers offered everything from fake designer jeans to whole roast quail. I bought myself a fish and some fruit so I wouldn't be as hungry when we arrived at the swank restaurant where we were scheduled to have dinner.

We were having a swank (as in $6 a head) dinner in order to watch a shadow puppet and traditional Khmer dance performance. What we didn't know was that the entire performance was to be performed by children from a home for disadvantaged and orphaned kids. Not only that, but all proceeds form the show went directly back into the program to help in the kids' education, housing, and placement with families.

The children did a great job, and really seemed to be enjoying themselves. Best of all, the format was very informal, so we were 'free to move around and watch the puppeteers and musicians at work. It was a good way to spend the evening - a great show for a great cause, and a dose of theatre to boot.

Day 208 - Say Wat?!

We slept in a bit today before heading to Angkor Wat. As the largest religious building in the world, Angkor Wat rivals the Taj Mahal in fame. Unfortunately, because I had built it up so much in my mind, seeing it in person was kind of a letdown. Sure it's big, but it is very compartmentalized, so it doesn't feel that big. The area around it has also been thoroughly cleared, so the structures sit on a dusty field broken only by the admittedly impressive reflecting pool.

All that said, it is still a pretty impressive complex of buildings with many really lovely bas relief sculptures. Furthermore, there are several alleys and galleries occupied by Buddha statues wrapped in saffron with offerings at their feet and monks and tourists alike paying their respects. And, despite being a a little disappointed in it, there is still definite spark of excitement simply by being in the middle of Angkor Wat. It could simply be a heap of rubble, and the name and connotations alone are enough to make it feel exotic and exciting.

It might not feel so big, but it did in fact take us most of the day to visit. When we were finally 'templed out', we ate a late lunch at Angkor Cafe, and headed back to our guesthouse. Strangely, the cafe was not hugely overpriced despite being slap-bang across the street from the wat. I suspect that this is the case because most of the tour groups head into town for lunch and a rest in the middle of the day. Which has a double bonus of cheap eats at the ruins, and if you are willing to brave the sun or choose shady temples, you have the monuments almost entirely to yourself.

After a short rest and shower - Angkor Wat is DUSTY, we piled back into a tuk-tuk to take in the temple at sunset. Keen to avoid the zoo on the hill, we opted to watch the light change over the big temple itself. It was sort of nice walking into the complex as everyone else was leaving. I don't understand why the hill is so popular. The view was far superior (and far less crowded) right in the temple.