After taking a filling breakfast and a refreshing bath (but still no real sleep!), we headed out for our very first temple visit. Since we did not have a tour guide yet, Mr. Hav suggested two temples we could see to make the most of the day, considering that the The Angkor Archaeological Park’s visiting hours are from 5 am to 6 pm only. It was already 1 pm when we left The Villa, so that didn’t really leave us with much time.
Before we could see the temples though, we had to secure an admission pass at the main entrance of the Park. Passes are sold in one-day (US$20), three-day (US$40) and seven-day (US$60) blocks, which must be used on consecutive days. The temple pass will be checked whenever you enter the park and when you visit major temples, so be sure not to lose it lest you wish to be fined.
After receiving our three-day temple pass we made our way to Banteay Srei/Srey, which was perhaps the farthest temple we visited in our trip. It is 37 kilometers away from Siem Reap, and it took us about an hour’s tuk-tuk ride from the Park entrance to get there. The journey was no picnic, and it was there where we saw how simple life in Siem Reap really was – away from the bustling tourist center, away from the seat of government, away from urban progress in general.
Once again the sights along the road to Banteay Srei/Srey resembled that of life in rural Philippines. Since the trip was long there was nothing for us to do but amuse ourselves with the scenery, which began with rice paddies and plains that stretched out across the horizon and disappeared into distant mountains or hills; a few trees, bushes, and canals appeared once in a while to break the monotony.
It was difficult for us to talk to each other during the trip because if the partially-paved roads in Siem Reap Town are dusty enough as it is, the outskirts of the town had to do without the benefits of paved roads at all. It was dusty and uneven, and if we opened our mouths we would soon chew on the red clay dust stirred up by our tuk-tuk’s wheels. It was even worse when trucks, tourist coasters and cars (which, incidentally, come in both left-hand and right-hand drives in Cambodia) would pass us by, as if literally asking us poor tuk-tuk passengers to eat their dust.
The houses along the roads were like the nipa huts in the Philippines, except that well, they weren’t made of nipa. They were a combination of wood and cement, with usually the foundation made of cement while the houses themselves were made of wood. They were elevated, one-floor houses surrounded by livestock and plants outside. We noticed that most, if not all houses, had wells and stone burners/ovens out front, indicating a less-than modern mode of life. (It was easy for us to see that electricity had not reached this part of town yet.) They also had wooden makeshift stalls parked in front of their houses, which carried various handmade goods such as wood carvings, weave baskets and hats. They also sold other souvenir items like shirts, kramas (traditional Khmer scarf), batik skirts, etc.
It made us wonder how these people felt about “intruders” like us, for the sound of all those vehicles passing by certainly did not fit into the plain and quiet life of this province. They must hate it – or perhaps have grown to like it – having outsiders disturb their peace, because it seems they have no other choice but to live with the most profitable trade of their town.
(Somewhere along the way we also saw a fenced compound called “Cha-Cha,” but no, it’s not related to the dance. From the sign outside the gate we read that it was a center where the victims of landmines worked to make souvenirs, which explained the sign’s accompanying appeal to us to support these products. Tourists are still of some use, after all.)
Anyway, this entry is running a bit too long now (sorry, got carried away describing the journey). The visit to Banteay Srei/Srey deserves its own, dedicated space, which we promise will be the focus of the next entry. In the meantime, here’s a picture of the temple to keep you curious:
Before we could see the temples though, we had to secure an admission pass at the main entrance of the Park. Passes are sold in one-day (US$20), three-day (US$40) and seven-day (US$60) blocks, which must be used on consecutive days. The temple pass will be checked whenever you enter the park and when you visit major temples, so be sure not to lose it lest you wish to be fined.
After receiving our three-day temple pass we made our way to Banteay Srei/Srey, which was perhaps the farthest temple we visited in our trip. It is 37 kilometers away from Siem Reap, and it took us about an hour’s tuk-tuk ride from the Park entrance to get there. The journey was no picnic, and it was there where we saw how simple life in Siem Reap really was – away from the bustling tourist center, away from the seat of government, away from urban progress in general.
Once again the sights along the road to Banteay Srei/Srey resembled that of life in rural Philippines. Since the trip was long there was nothing for us to do but amuse ourselves with the scenery, which began with rice paddies and plains that stretched out across the horizon and disappeared into distant mountains or hills; a few trees, bushes, and canals appeared once in a while to break the monotony.
It was difficult for us to talk to each other during the trip because if the partially-paved roads in Siem Reap Town are dusty enough as it is, the outskirts of the town had to do without the benefits of paved roads at all. It was dusty and uneven, and if we opened our mouths we would soon chew on the red clay dust stirred up by our tuk-tuk’s wheels. It was even worse when trucks, tourist coasters and cars (which, incidentally, come in both left-hand and right-hand drives in Cambodia) would pass us by, as if literally asking us poor tuk-tuk passengers to eat their dust.
The houses along the roads were like the nipa huts in the Philippines, except that well, they weren’t made of nipa. They were a combination of wood and cement, with usually the foundation made of cement while the houses themselves were made of wood. They were elevated, one-floor houses surrounded by livestock and plants outside. We noticed that most, if not all houses, had wells and stone burners/ovens out front, indicating a less-than modern mode of life. (It was easy for us to see that electricity had not reached this part of town yet.) They also had wooden makeshift stalls parked in front of their houses, which carried various handmade goods such as wood carvings, weave baskets and hats. They also sold other souvenir items like shirts, kramas (traditional Khmer scarf), batik skirts, etc.
It made us wonder how these people felt about “intruders” like us, for the sound of all those vehicles passing by certainly did not fit into the plain and quiet life of this province. They must hate it – or perhaps have grown to like it – having outsiders disturb their peace, because it seems they have no other choice but to live with the most profitable trade of their town.
(Somewhere along the way we also saw a fenced compound called “Cha-Cha,” but no, it’s not related to the dance. From the sign outside the gate we read that it was a center where the victims of landmines worked to make souvenirs, which explained the sign’s accompanying appeal to us to support these products. Tourists are still of some use, after all.)
Anyway, this entry is running a bit too long now (sorry, got carried away describing the journey). The visit to Banteay Srei/Srey deserves its own, dedicated space, which we promise will be the focus of the next entry. In the meantime, here’s a picture of the temple to keep you curious:
Let the camwhoring of the temples begin!
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