Temples of Angkor Wat (1)

The sky is just lightening as me and the bike head north along the river, cool and clammy morning air sliding past as I pedal easily out of town, into the park as forest encroaches the road, school kids in uniforms everywhere.

After the sunrise rush the ticket gate is empty, and when the road meets the Angkor moat, I go right, as mist hangs over the water and the sky reflects pearly behind the shadows of trees.

As the sun begins to climb, I am one of only a handful of admirers overlooking the basin of Srang Sray before delving into Banteay Kdei.

I have the place almost to myself, save some green-clad sweepers clearing away fallen leaves and leaving smooth dirt behind. And two small children, tour-guides in the making, who tail me for awhile, giving bits of advice pointing out interesting features. And, though cuter than most tour guides, I ignore them and wander where my eyes take me, and they soon lose interest and disappear to find other potential customers for their books of post cards.

I follow a zig-zag path through the temple, East to West and back again, down side corridors and under intricately carved doorways, dodging spider-webs and gazing up at towers and figures caught dancing in mid-step, tree roots creeping and stones tumbling in corners.

****

Stop #2 is Ta Keo, found after sharing the road with lines of tuk-tuks and tour buses for stretches at a time. 

Ta Keo is an unfinished temple complex, 5 towers rising bold against the now-blue sky, and I wander around perimeter in solitude, walls and windows in various stages of disrepair, before ascending a set of steep stairs to the next level.

 It is here, using hands and feet for purchase on the narrow and uneven steps, that I fully realize the depth of what I am experiencing.

That these stones are ancient.

Sacred.

And here I am, not just treading upon them, but connecting with all my senses.

There is something about stone that speaks to me in a way that concrete, glass and steel can not.

Perhaps because it comes from the earth, and speaks of a connection to something far greater and more powerful.

Piles of small stones stand as testament to previous moments of inspiration.

Yet white lichen spreads and plants take root in the cracks.....Angkor is proof of the fact that stone that was brought from the earth can be brought down by it – trees overtaking, crumbling, creating a stumbling, tumbling chaos. 

A beautiful breeze moves through the topmost tower, incense burns as I kneel to receive a blessing, a slim braid of red yarn knotted around my wrist, small hands cupping mine and bowing three times.

I decide on a strategy of quality over quantity, choosing temples that sound intriguing to enjoy at my leisure, avoiding guides and tours and anyone urging me to hurry along. Eager to balance this with doing this place justice, however, I tackle one more temple while the morning cool is still at least pretending to linger.

Preah Khan.

Sprawling.

Passages leading to passages.

Trees reaching roots and breaking stone.

Stone slabs tumbling.

Carvings in relief.

Food, coffee. 

A few moments of shaded rest.

It doesn’t take much to make me happy.

But I’m tired.

So I tell myself.

Just one more temple.

You don’t even have to take pictures this time.

Just wander. Enjoy.

And return again for a closer look.

And thus I discover my favorite place.

It’s just a pile of stones, man-moved and man-marred.

But it still somehow has the power

To move me to tears.

In theory, this temple has three levels, but in reality, it is a tumble, jumble, amazing mess: stairs lead to passages lead to courtyards. Bats squeak from tower recesses, and even though I know there are people everywhere, I steal a few moments of solitude -  after circling over, under, around and through - before joining the rest of the visitors on the top level, circling and gazing at the myriad of carved faces keeping watch in all directions. Out comes the camera, as I just can’t help but capture a few of them.

Riding back to town through the slanting golden rays of late afternoon, I am part of the ebb and flow, of tuk-tuks and motos and cars and bikes....


**Note: I took A LOT of pictures. If you're interested, check them out here on smugmug!**