Several times\u00a0 per minute is one required to negotiate an oncoming motorcyclist. And they always force the lowly bicyclist riding in the proper<\/em> direction to venture out of the shoulder and into the road to get around them. Yeah, of course, I tried playing chicken with a few of them, so they\u2019d get the message that it was they<\/em> who should be required to swerve out into the street \u2013 but at the end of the day, I ain\u2019t so willing to plow into an oncoming motorcycle just to prove a point.<\/p>\n There\u2019s a big Fresh Market over there, but they want to charge money to park a bicycle<\/em>, so I told them to fuckoff. At another, smaller Market across the street, the prices are much higher than downtown. So, to Hell with them, too.<\/p>\n But once you get out of town, the cycling is pretty decent, in that the shoulder is nice and wide, and there are far fewer oncoming drivers with whom to deal. This is the road to Phnom Penh, so there\u2019s lots of traffic noise<\/em> to suffer, and the sun was already becoming quite relentless on this day.<\/p>\n But after an hour or so, I successfully misinterpreted a sign and was off on the middle of a village somewhere \u2013 turned out, though, after finally stopping to consult the map, heading in more less the right direction. Having then<\/em> followed signs, however, to Prei Monti temple, I realised my next mistake had been.<\/p>\n That\u2019s it! This place is strictly for completists. And actually, in checking in with the guidebook, discovered that it\u2019s not even one of the three. Too bad they don\u2019t say this on the map<\/em>. So, that set me back about one-half of one hour; but the ride through the village area was pretty okay; peeps were nice and friendly and all.<\/p>\n Next of all, I did arrive to Bakong. This is the furthest from the main road of the three; so the ticket-checker-man had to study my pass closely before finally confirming that, yes, this was my first temple of the day. In other words, that he should punch the hole for this day\u2019s date.<\/p>\n Uh, if that\u2019s not clear, here\u2019s how the pass looks like.<\/p>\n So, they check to see that the given day\u2019s date has been punched (and, of course, that the pass-holder has not already totted up seven punches); if not, they bring out the Punching Tool.<\/p>\n Actually, I\u2019d been hoping that, stuck off out by themselves as the three are, maybe there\u2019d be nobody there to check the passes; and so one\u2019d attain a free day of templeism. But, it was not to be.<\/p>\n I liked the temple fine, especially its beautiful moat.<\/p>\n But it turns out the best parts of Bakong have nothing to do with the temple complex itself. First, the temple band.<\/p>\n Most of the larger temples have a band, comprised of landmine victims, playing traditional Khmer music. They\u2019re all quite good, but this one is exceedingly<\/em> good. The only one I\u2019ve seen with a female member, and also the only one to incorporate vocals.<\/p>\n I was sitting reading the guidebook\u2019s entry for Bakong when they arrived to begin getting ready for the day. This recording is more like part of their soundcheck than performance proper; but stunningly gorgeous all the same. Let\u2019s listen.<\/p>\n Bakong Band<\/a><\/p>\n The other best part was a modern temple on the grounds. The murals are so exceptionally well done, I almost had to shed some tears.<\/p>\n Apart from being so lovely, they\u2019re also neat \u2018cause the subject matter isn\u2019t the same-old same-old Life-Of-Buddha stuff.<\/p>\n Preah Ko, like Neak Pean has been blessed with a brilliantly worded info sign.<\/p>\n It’s not so very big, but it\u2019s a nice joint.<\/p>\n Seems to be a unifying theme these last few days: knock-out amazing carving.<\/p>\n Lolei, the third temple, is on the other side of the highway. Even smaller that Preah Ko, it, too, features delicious carving work.<\/p>\n And like at Bakong, there\u2019s also a modern temple here. The murals aren\u2019t nearly as satisfying as Bakong\u2019s (but then, whose are?); though they\u2019re certainly very colourful, nicely complementing the hall\u2019s delightful columns.<\/p>\n The shrine is pretty odd, however: all the Buddhas look like they\u2019d been purchased down at the five-and-dime.<\/p>\n It is kinda neat, I\u2019ll say, that Buddha Mon\u2019s heavenly aura is painted onto the ceiling above his head.<\/p>\n Finally, I quite love the way this mural incorporates into its design the building\u2019s corner.<\/p>\n And that was the Rolous group. The ride back into town seemed to go by more quickly the ride out, though the sun was even more hotter. But once I arrived to the east-river city limits, it was Hellride City again \u2013 even worse, I dare say, during lunchtime rush than during morning rush. Ack!<\/p>\n Snagged me some lunch back in town. This was a pretty nice luxury; as, except for the one day when I\u2019d got the bananas at Banteay Samre, I\u2019ve not been eating during the Angkor excursions \u2013 having to wait until returning to town at 6:00 in the PM or so before the day\u2019s first morsels. That can get famishing.<\/p>\n I\u2019m becoming something of a folk hero with the tuk-tuk drivers who\u2019ve staked out the Lucky supermarket as their home turf. Yeah, I get my watermelons from the store here. Only place in Asia I\u2019ve purchased food from the store rather than Fresh Markets and street vendors.<\/p>\n Had been becoming more and more unsatisfied with the inconsistency of the Markets\u2019 watermelons, so decided to give this \u201cLucky\u201d place a try. It\u2019s almost too<\/em> consistent \u2013 think I\u2019ve only got one sub-par melon from there \u2013 and the price is the same as at the Fresh Markets. I\u2019ve even got all the checkers trained that I don\u2019t need plastic bags for the watermelons.<\/p>\n Anyhow, as I say, the tuk-tuk drivers are astonished at my watermelon-eating exploits. (Heh, for all they know, I\u2019m just taking them out and dumping them in the river!) On this one particular day, I was leaving the store, and said something about, \u201cSee you tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n But then I corrected myself, \u201cOh, maybe tonight<\/em>!\u201d Ha, and when I did<\/em> return that very same night, this one really friendly driver smacked his head to his forehead with his palm; just like good ol\u2019 Spanky from Little Rascals (or what). That<\/em> was a riot!<\/p>\n Figured I may as well head up to the Park, being that my pass had already been punched for that day. I knew a place where no cars go; viz., the East Gate. I had wanted to make visit for this reason, but even more importantly because it\u2019s AKA \u201cDeads Gate\u201d or \u201cThe Gate Of The Dead\u201d. Spooky!<\/p>\n The trail out to the gate from the Bayon area was pretty rocky, and not much fun. But it didn\u2019t take too long to arrive to the gate.<\/p>\n Whaddya think: does it look more ominous that the other gates? It did kinda feel<\/em> more ominous \u2013 but perhaps that\u2019s just my wanting to impute characteristics in order to justify my trip out there.<\/p>\n So then, I did set out for West Baray, which is this big ginormous reservoir out past the West Gate. There\u2019s also an East Baray; but it\u2019s totally dry now. Turns out, this road was also a place where no cars go; though there were some motorcycles, it was a rather nice ride, sheltered by the trees from the sun\u2019s midday might.<\/p>\n I was soon joined by a young teen name of \u201cJom\u201d, who proceeded to batter me with the usual array of questions. When he asked where I was headed, I mistakenly told him, \u201cWest Bayon.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWest Bayon? You\u2019d better check the map! This is West Gate right here.\u201d We were coming up on West Gate.<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, and isn\u2019t West Bayon just a bit further on?\u201d<\/p>\n He explained that West Baray<\/em> was up ahead, and I quickly amended myself. After this, we were joined by a friend of his, name of \u201cWon\u201d. He too proceeded to batter me with the usual questions his friend\u2019d just finished asking; but a lot more besides. A talkative little cuss.<\/p>\n But it was cool, \u2018cause I was digging his pronunciation of \u201cCambodia\u201d. He stretches the long-O sound, which made me happy every time he employed the word \u2013 more than one might\u2019ve guessed, incidentally, as he began many sentences with, \u201cIn Camb-ohhh-dia, we\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n Among his questions was whether we had to pay for schooling in the US of A. I explained it to him; and then he explained to me that in Camb-ohhh-dia, they pay a small percentage of the cost for primary school, a little higher percentage for secondary, still more for high school, and the entire enchilada for university.<\/p>\n Uh-uh; not what I wanted to hear! But I decided to let it pass with an, “Okay…”<\/p>\n So, they were all into taking a route to the Baray that didn\u2019t seem, according to my interpretation of the map, to be the most direct route possible. But I went ahead and followed them. Turns out I was right, as I used my proposed route on the way back. However, though their route was less direct, it was not bad, as it was a tree-lined road through their village, providing much-needed shade.<\/p>\n At last, we turned off and headed up to the Baray. They parked their bikes to go down to the water\u2019s edge; but I wanted to ride all the way around first \u2013 and also didn\u2019t quite trust them, somehow — and so rode on. When they seen this, they got hopping mad, and tried to convince me to go down to the water with them.<\/p>\n After a bit, Won rode up beside me and told me that it was too hot to ride all the way around. \u201cHope you brought your water!\u201d I chided him. When he then protested that the distance was too great, I playfully chirped, \u201cGreat exercise!\u201d He agreed; but then complained that this road was dangerous, as there are many thieves in Camb-ohhh-dia.<\/p>\n Noticing that I\u2019d not been deterred, he asked whether I’d \u201chelp\u201d him with his studies, if he would take me around the lake? Fuckin’ I knew<\/em> I’d smelt a rat! When I wouldn\u2019t “help” him, he asked if I\u2019d help him, \u2018cause he\u2019d already taken me this far? When I wouldn\u2019t, he asked me if I\u2019d help him, just for the Hell of it. When I wouldn\u2019t, he gave up and left me to ride it around alone.<\/p>\n Turns out, scammer though he was, he was right about mine having been a suckass idea. What he hadn\u2019t<\/em> warned me was that the road is very sandy. Makes for very slow\/difficult cycling under the baking heat. But even worse, every time one of these big trucks carrying a load of rocks would come by \u2013 which was about every five minutes \u2013 it would scare up a huge cloud of dust for me to be breathing.<\/p>\n Eventually, I proposed to myself, \u201cFuck this,\u201d and turned around to head back whence I\u2019d come. After a while, I passed Won and Jom sitting by the side of the road. Kinda had to eat crow a little bit there, but it was okay.<\/p>\n When I shortly thereafter stopped to take a picture of an island the Angkorites had built out in the middle (there\u2019s a temple on the island), they sprang back into action. Won offered to take me over to the island \u2013 one can get a boat, if one so desires.<\/p>\n When I declined, he asked if I\u2019d got a guidebook; and asked where I\u2019d bought it from. \u201cI borrowed it from the guest house \u2013 nice, eh?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBorrowed it?! Do you want to buy it?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOf course not! Once I leave here, I\u2019ll have no need of it.\u201d<\/p>\n He explained that I would<\/em> have need of one, for all the memories, and the historical and cultural learnings imparted by the book, and so forth. Said he would be able to sell one to me, if I wanted.<\/p>\n Finally<\/em>, we came to the road where he was to turn off and head back down to the village. He warned me again that I ought not to take the path upon which I was thence traveling. It was a pretty half-assed warning, however: by then, I\u2019d completely broken his spirit.<\/p>\n Y\u2019know, I did feel a little betrayed that these nice cats who\u2019d genuinely seemed to want to be friends for friendship\u2019s sake turned out to be just two more hustlers out trolling for gullible tourists. But in truth, I\u2019ll always be grateful to ol\u2019 Won for learning to me his pronunciation of Camb-ohhh-dia.<\/p>\n So, back at West Gate, I realised what I\u2019d not on the trip out, having at the time been preoccupied and such. Namely, that it\u2019s probably my favourite of the five gates (East, West, North, South, and Victory). Not for the gate itself, which is fairly pedestrian. But rather, \u2018cause it\u2019s got the best ambiance, all tree-shrouded and enveloped in the cicadas\u2019 and birds\u2019 jungle symphonics and all.<\/p>\n Thought I\u2019d then pop in and see what was doing at Angkor, but instead got sidetracked at the monkeys.<\/p>\n I\u2019d thought I\u2019d read somewheres to not feed the monkeys. But here, there were a bunch of street vendors selling<\/em> crap to feed to them. So I guess it\u2019s allowed. Still, this can\u2019t be good:<\/p>\n![\"monti\"](\"http:\/\/durianapocalypse.net\/travel\/wp-content\/uploads\/2012\/03\/monti.jpg\" "\\"monti\\"")
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