The Two Sides of Venice

Canal, gondolas and the Bridge of Sighs

April 4 – 5, 2012

Photo set on Flickr

Day 1

First Impression and the Doge’s Palace

The tripod fiasco had left me extremely mad walking out of Venice Marco Polo Airport (full detail in this entry). The grey sky and light drizzle that greeted us outside only reinforced my poor mood – which got even worse when we found out a one-way vaporetto (water bus) ticket to Venice cost €15 per person. Venice’s reputation as one of the most expensive destination in the world had upon our arrival been proven to be well-deserved.

The journey navigating through the choppy water under limited visibility lasted for a full hour that felt like double the time. Getting off at San Marco – San Zaccaria threw me off a little bit. Between the suffocating amount of tourists, Carnival costume wearing street performers and the general circus-like atmosphere, I thought I had just landed in a Disney theme park. Our hotel Gabrielli Sandwirth, a ten minute walk east from St. Mark’s Square on Riva degli Schiavoni, was by far this trip’s most expensive accommodation ($160 USD for one night, booked through Easyjet). Our pitifully small room was 40% the size of its counterpart in Sorrento but also almost 30% more costly.

Lunch was a disaster. We were served microwaved risotto that’s loaded with salt at a family-run eatery close to our hotel. Fortunately in this case, the portion was only a few spoonfuls. In my mind our time in Venice was beginning to feel like a sunk cost. Travel is very trivial; catching a few bad breaks like poor weather and inedible food can turn an otherwise premier destination into a regrettable experience.

Like everyone else, we ended up at St. Mark’s Square. Places like this are more than attractions – they are tourist magnets. Tourists like to linger around even though there is nothing in particular to do. Some pay for overpriced drinks at cafés, some eagerly feed the pigeons even though the practice is supposed to be banned and most others take random snapshots of poorly framed pictures of the square. Most of them seem perfectly content to spend much of their time in St. Mark’s Square and maybe one or two other attractions and happily declare that they have been to Venice.

Oddly, even though the Doge’s Palace is one of the key buildings of the St. Mark’s Square, nobody was lining up outside, though its €16 admission price could help explained why. Those who don’t pay a visit would have missed out on the palace’s vivid projection of the bureaucratic life during the Venetian Republic. The “Scudo” Room and the Chamber of the Great Council are especially impressive.

Castello

Castello, Venice

The clock had just turned 17:30. Our brief tour of St. Mark’s Basilica that felt like a pushing contest had left us exhausted of the encompassing tourist circus. We took refuge by heading down a quiescent alley from Riva degli Schiavoni and soon there were just the two of us.

We were in Castello, the district where the obsolete Venetian Arsenal (shipyard) is located. The gloomy weather fit well with this neighbourhood of crumbling buildings and desolate canals. I generally have a reliable sense of direction but after just a turn or two we had become hopelessly lost. Not that we minded at all; we enjoyed having the area all to ourselves. For the first time of the day, we were able to appreciate Venice for what it is instead of getting sidetracked by other factors.

It took us much effort to find our way back to a relatively promising looking restaurant. The food was passable. Before calling it a night we caught a Vivaldi’s Four Seasons quartet concert at Santa Maria della Pietà (€ 25 per). Always worthwhile to listen to a composer’s pieces in his hometown.

Day 2

Early Morning at St. Mark’s Square

Early Morning, St. Mark’s Square

Immediately after waking up I walked over to St. Mark’s Square, fully pumped up because of the sunny weather, hoping to take some photos of the famous square before the crowd arrived. My wish was granted – at 8:00 am the square was almost devoid of anyone. Only in this state could I appreciate Venice’s beauty – there is truly nowhere else like this on earth.

Being able to roam around the heart of Venice without the accustomed horde of tourists is more than enough of a reason for anyone not to day trip to Venice but actually spend at least a night in the town.

Rialto

Rialto Bridge, Venice

While the St. Mark’s Square is its most famous landmark, Venice’s most photographed spot is undoubtedly the Rialto Bridge. The Rialto district is at the very centre of the lagoon where the S-shaped Grand Canal is narrow enough for a camera to capture the buildings on both sides.

And there is no escaping from the crowd there. No matter where we turned we couldn’t find so much as an inch of space to separate ourselves from the surrounding mass of people. We had a filling buffet breakfast at our hotel so we didn’t have to choose from Rialto’s generally overpriced options. After taking a brief walk and taking some mandatory photos of the Grand Canal and the Rialto Bridge, we were relieved to board a vaporetto and leave Rialto behind.

Burano

Burano

I kept telling myself if there’s one place I must go in Venice, it’s Burano. Traveling there would take up our entire afternoon, but to me it was a no-brainer.

From Rialto, we first had to take the No. 2 vaporetto to Ferrovia, then boarded the No.41 to Fond. Nuove before finally hopping on the No.12 water bus to Burano. The whole trip took a little more than an hour.

Burano didn’t disappoint. The brightly-painted houses and their reflections on the canals were a delight to take photos of. Best of all, only a few dozens visitors were on the island and they tended to stay along the main canal. We wandered through the empty side streets pondering if any people still lived there. Soon enough we saw a few housewives sweeping their front yards and a kid ambushing his older brother/friend with a broom.

Venice has long been criticized of being an extremely touristy museum city. These points are hard to contest if one only stays in the popular tourist spots like the St. Mark’s Square and the Rialto, but those who venture slightly away will be rewarded an unassuming side of Venice where locals, often subjugated into being the minority in their own town, continue to quietly go on with their lives.

Three Days in Sorrento

Gulf of Naples from Sorrento

April 2 – 4, 2012

Photo set on Flickr

Sorrento

The train ride

Our Naples-bound IC train (two hours/ €22) was nearing the terminal. Naples, the birth place of pizza but more renowned for its trash problem and mafia (the Camorra), was just outside the train window. The sight was not a pretty one – the area next to the station resembled the shady neighbourhoods in City of God. We didn’t give ourselves any chance to discover Naples’ more engaging side, moving on immediately to the adjacent station to take the privately owned Circumvesuviana train to Sorrento (€4).

The train was absolutely packed. Its interior was akin to a long-neglected subway train, with limited seat and no storage room for luggage. Well aware of its reputation of theft and pickpocket, we stood among the crowd and held tight to our belongings. Already moving along at a glacial pace, we were grounded in Barra, the third stop, due to some technical failure with the engine.

The already rowdy crowd immediately began to gesture their displeasure. We followed the mass off the train and onto the platform, although those lucky enough to get a seat remained inside. We didn’t know what’s going on, not when there was no instruction at all from the staff. When the broadcast finally came, it was as expected in Italian only. Drenched in cigarette smoke coming from all directions, we resigned this as an integral part of traveling in Italy.

A man kindly came over and briefly explained the situation to us in English, “They had no idea what’s going on too. Might take them awhile. I am just trying to go home (near Pompei) and this happens.” He shook his head and laughed at this familiar but unwelcome predicament.

A good 45 minutes later, we could finally resume our journey.

Thoughts on Sorrento

Sorrento is a convenient base, nothing more than that. It is situated at a beautiful location overlooking the Bay of Naples that probably won’t attract many tourists if not for the vast wealth of nearby attractions like the Amalfi Coast, Pompeii and Capri.

We stayed at Hotel Caravel (€90 per night) in Sant’Agnello, a town that borders Sorrento. The shuttle to Sorrento’s town centre takes around ten minutes.

We didn’t particularly seek out any special places for dinner. The three restaurants we tried were Ristorante Moonlight, L’Abate and S.Antonino. The first one was disappointing while the other two offered good value.

Amalfi Coast

Positano

Several ways to approach this famous coastline in a day:

1. There is the Sita Bus that runs from Sorrento all the way south to Salerno. Ideal pace is to cover one to two towns.
2. Rental car. More flexibility – probably enough time to drive from Sorrento to Ravello and back.
3. There is also private driver for those who can justify the cost. I have seen online postings on some mad dashes that covered several different towns and Paestum.

We opted for the first option. Driving along the coast in a convertible is probably the most gratifying, but we just wanted to chill out and linger in a single town for the day. My first choice was Ravello, a two-hour bus ride away excluding bus change in Amalfi. Decided to spend as much time on the ground as possible, we instead went for the closest town to Sorrento – Positano.

The bus ticket cost €7.20, which allowed for unlimited rides between Sorrento and Amalfi within 24 hours. It was a leisurely 45-minute ride with light traffic. The cliffside road, SS163, is infamous for being extremely narrow and full of hairpin bends. From my passenger seat the road didn’t look that much more difficult than the familiar Tai Hang Road and Magazine Gap Road I drive in a weekly basis in Hong Kong, though I was content to concentrate on the scenery rather than the oncoming traffic.

After entering Positano, our bus switched to an even slower gear to navigate through the town’s tight turns. Without any warning the driver suddenly shouted “Positano”. We quickly followed a few others off the bus. While everyone headed left down a gradual slope, for some reason I walked towards the opposite direction. It was only ten minutes later I at last heeded my wife’s suggestion and turned around.

There is always the urge, when traveling, to maximize my time and to take advantage of what the area has to offer. But Positano, like most hedonistic seaside towns, is a good remedy to ease my impulses – we simply spent our day rambled along its steep roads munching on lemon granita and pistachio ice cream and had our trip’s first proper lunch by the tiny beach with dark brown sand that lasted for three hours.

Our return trip was a minor nuisance. The 16:40 bus didn’t show up until an hour later – packed and standing only. Leaving behind the photogenic Positano, we were back on the cliffside road, which to me is the real draw of the Amalfi Coast. Tilting with the bus at every turn, our idle day to recover from our hectic time in Rome ended in a rather unrelaxed way.

Pompeii

Herculaneum Gate, Pompeii

When people mention ancient wonders, names like Machu Picchu, Angkor, Petra, the Great Wall and the Pyramids always come up. Pompeii, even with its tragic but captivating back story of being completely buried by volcanic ash almost two thousand years ago, doesn’t seem to as readily capture the general public’s imagination. The reason is rather simple; Pompeii doesn’t contain an iconic structure that is still intact after the devastation of the volcanic eruption. It is more educational than awe-inspiring.

Even so, spending time in Pompeii offers an unrivaled insight into the daily life during the Pax Romana. Walking past the city gate, there is the port on the left and the basilica on the right. Further right are the Temple of Apollo and the macellum (indoor market), which ultimately leads to the Forum. What sets Pompeii apart are not these public buildings, which are honestly a dime a dozen in Western Europe, but rather its intact town centre, along with its network of wide roads and narrow side streets, rows of residential houses and several richly decorated villas and public baths.

Some pointers on visiting Pompeii:

1. The modern town Pompei is a 30-minute Circumvesuviana train ride away from Sorrento (€7 round trip). The ruin is right next to the train station (Admission: €15).
2. Pompeii is huge. After trying to cover the entire site, I think it is more enjoyable to focus on the town centre (the Forum, the port, the basilica and other public buildings), then eastward to the Grand Theatre, move north to take in a few villas and public baths and finally finish off at the Villa of Mysteries.
3. The amphitheatre does not justify the long trek to get there, and the time saved is better spent at the places mentioned above.
4. Most people travel in tour groups, so it is quite easy to escape the crowd as they tend to congregate at a few spots.
5. Pompeii is very dusty and isn’t the most interesting photographic subject. A standard zoom lens with a polarizer should be more than enough.

Vicenza and Verona – A Day of Ups and Downs

Villa La Rotonda, Vicenza

April 7, 2012

Photo set on Flickr

 

Vicenza

Three reasons why I chose to spend our trip’s second-to-last night in Vicenza:

1) Venice’s accommodation was ridiculously expensive over the Easter weekend

2) We would fly back home from Milan

3) I wanted to visit Villa La Rotonda

The third point is the most important. Villa La Rotonda is a privately owned villa designed by Andrea Palladio and its opening times is infamously restricted (Admission €10, Wed and Sat only, 10:00 – 12:00, 15:00 – 18:00). While researching on Vicenzia before the trip the one constant thing I found was how people mistimed their schedule and ended up failing to enter the villa.

We booked the night of April 6th at Hotel Continental (€75 for a double room). Compares to what the Venice hotels were asking (for example, Hotel Gabrielli Sandwirth‎’s rate was €240), staying in Vicenza was an absolute bargain.

The next morning, we intended to store our luggage at the train station before taking the hourly No. 8 bus to the villa but were shocked that there wasn’t any available. To save the trouble and buy some time, we hired a taxi to Villa La Rotonda and asked the driver to wait for us at its entrance. I wasn’t certain that the villa was opened over the Easter weekend until I received the tickets from the doorman – to be able to see a site that so many had tried and failed was curiously satisfying.

And Villa La Rotonda justified the effort. After a week-long onslaught of some of the best cathedrals and palaces on earth, we were still in awe the moment we stepped inside. The fact that it is a private property offered us a different perspective – some form of social gathering in one of the living room might very well take place and a formal dinner could be held in the dinning room on any given day outside of Wednesdays and Saturdays. It is a house still in use and apparently very well taken care of, more than four hundred years after its creation.

We lingered at the villa and its garden for a full hour even though every second was literally money. For the ride back to the town centre I requested to be dropped off at another Palladio’s masterpiece and the world’ oldest surviving enclosed theatre – the Teatro Olimpico (Admission €6.50).

Teatro Olimpico

I looked after our luggage while my wife went in first; when she came out ten minutes later she said she could have stayed for much longer if I wasn’t waiting outside. Past the reception were some displays on the play, Sophocles’ Oedipus the King, the theatre was intended for. The theatre, designed to represent the streets of Thebes, was only in-use for a few productions and has been left as it is since. The highly detailed wooden structure onstage wouldn’t look out of place next to the Roman Forum.

We headed west for the train station on one of the main street Corso Andrea Palladio. Probably because Vicenza is slightly off the beaten path, the street was quite empty and we had a leisurely walk through town, passing by the pleasant Piazza dei Signori and the town’s Duomo and then detouring into some side streets.

 

Verona

Arena di Verona

 

Given the choice of spending our trip’s last afternoon in Verona or Milan, I chose the former. For obviously reason Milan doesn’t hold much appeal to me. My wife had already done her shopping in Rome so she was also happy to give it a pass.

The weather turned for the worse as our train approached Verona. Heavy rain poured from the sky – a first on this trip. No surprise about luggage storage this time – it’s located next to the entrance (€5 for five hours). We boarded the No. 13 bus and got off at Piazza Bra where Verona’s most famous attraction, Arena di Verona, is situated.

We took advantage of the suddenly cleared sky to check out the arena (Admission €6). The ancient structure was in the midst of its annual preparation for the summer opera season. Unlike the Colosseum visitors are allowed to climb the tiered limestone seats, which was a slippery ordeal after the rain.

Besides the arena, Verona has a good mix of attractions spanning across the Roman era to the Renaissance like Castelvecchio, the Roman Theatre, the Basilica di San Zeno and the Duomo. Of course there is also the tourist trap Juliet’s House. Given our limited time and general lethargy, we chose instead to focus on what we like best – to simply walk around and count whatever we come across as bonus. It seemed like an infallible decision, especially in what’s said to be one of Italy’s most attractive towns.

But part of the fun of traveling is being wrong. Verona, at least on this day, was as crowded as any place I have ever been, including Venice. The weather was also a factor as the rain returned after a brief halt, giving everything a grey hue. The underlying reason of my rather unfavorable impression of Verona, however, was that the town failed to enhance what we had already experienced at previous stops on the trip. We had seen better roman architecture or churches elsewhere; our casual strolls were more enjoyable in Rome or Venice. Or Vicenza just a few hours ago.

Looking back, we were bound to see only Verona’s downside with just a few hours in town over the Easter weekend at the tail end of our trip. I can see why so many people love it – it is a pretty town with a diverse range of sites. Still, I can’t come up with a good reason for recommending Verona besides to watch the amusing scene of people of all ages gathering to rub a bronze statue of Juliet for good luck.

Traveling in Italy during the Euro Crisis

Train broke down at Circumvesuviana Barra Station

March 29 – April 8, 2012

When I traveled to Germany last year, I found a country that’s gradually coming into its own after an agonizing two decades of reunification. There was a feeling of forward-thinking that’s absent in most of Europe. The German people, perhaps because of their historical burden, seemed more determined to focus on the future rather than the past.

Italy, on the other hand, is quite the opposite. Even before the ongoing economic crisis, Italy was caught in a long, slow decline. Current developments such as Silvio Berlusconi’s resignation, the country’s unsustainable debt level and stagnant growth rate have put Italy squarely among other troubled Mediterranean economies such as Greece, Portugal and Spain.

GDP per capita PPP

flat like Japan – strong domestic travel

diminished influence – but people come for its attractions, food, design

Mention train + airport + general unreliability + first night taxi

expect problem and accident though might not happen

Compare with Germany and Greece – no forward looking like Germany, but foundation still solid enough to avoid total social collapse like Greece

Italy 2012 – The Plan

Sorrento, April 3, 2012

March 27, 2012

Two more days to go.

After an extremely busy February and March, I am more than ready for my ten-day break over Easter. But inducing unwelcome stress is my lack of progress in finalizing my itinerary and making the necessary bookings. It is joy killing to search for bargain accommodation deep into the night.

We initially wanted to travel to Turkey, but Aeroflot’s promotion is just too enticing. Fly into most of the major European hubs from Hong Kong cost only 5k HKD, so it becomes a choice of which city out of Paris, Amsterdam, Vienna and Rome/Milan. Italy is by far the warmest, so although the current poor economic condition would worsen Italy’s already notorious street crimes, I am happy to revisit it. This will be my third time to Italy; in 2000 I spent two weeks in Florence and Rome with my family. The other time was in 2007 when I stayed in Florence for four days with my then-girlfriend/future-wife.

My Itinerary (Still subject to last minute changes):

March 29 – Fly out of Hong Kong with Aeroflot at 10:55; arrive Rome at 20:50
March 30 – Vatican in the morning; Hop-on Hop-off bus in the afternoon
March 31 – Roman sites in the morning; Trastavere at night
April 1 – Day trip to Tivoli
April 2 – Base in Sorrento; day trip to Pompeii
April 3 – Day trip to Amalfi Coast and maybe Paestum
April 4 – Store luggage at Naples train station; spend the day in Naples, sleep near airport
April 5 – Fly to Venice with Easyjet at 8:45; arrive Venice at 10:00; stay in Venice
April 6 – Stay in Venice; visit Burano
April 7 – Base in Verona
April 8 – Fly out of Milan at 12:50

Koh Ker and Beng Mealea

On they way to Koh Ker

December 20, 2011

Photo set on Flickr

Koh Ker

Getting there

On the way to Koh Ker, our driver Raksmey suddenly asked us, “Why do you want to go to Koh Ker?”

We had been on the road for more than two hours, passing by small villages and rice paddies for the initial hour and a half until the paved road turned into a dirt track – nothing but trees since. Raksmey’s voice broke a long silence in the car and put into words the same question we all had in our minds.

“We wanted to visit some place off the beaten path,” I tried to speak for the group.

It was my idea to put Koh Ker, a capital of the Khmer capital from 928 AD to 944 AD, on our itinerary. I was not sure if it was wise because there are still many temples near Siem Reap that we had yet to explore, a remote site like Koh Ker might provide some diversity to what we had seen thus far.

“This is only my second time to Koh Ker. The first time was seven years ago with my mother.” Raksmey’s voice revealed a slight hint of excitement, “None of my clients have ever asked to travel there.”

Koh Ker’s ticketing booth was a little unusual – a family of three was watching TV in a wooden shack next to a gate. A man in plain clothes came over to our car and asked for $10 USD each for admission. He had no official proof although he did possess the tickets, so we handed over $40. Another twenty minutes of driving later we arrived at Prasat Thom, the largest temple complex at Koh Ker.

Prasat Thom

Prasat Thom, Koh Ker

There were no other visitors; besides the few kids at the parking, the only people we saw were a few middle-aged and elderly women praying at one of the few standing temples. Through Raksmey, we understood that one of the elder lady’s son had gone missing.

Far from the sleep deprived state he was in over the past few days, Koh Ker brought a change to Raksmey’s regular routine. There was a little more hop in his step as he led us along the surprisingly well-tended path to the seven-story sandstone pyramid that showed up on all my google searches on Koh Ker.

The Prasat Thom pyramid has a strong resemblance to Chichen Itza’s El Castillo. With none of its Mexican counterpart’s fame, I personally find the neglected and deserted Prasat Thom to be more mesmerizing. Just as I begin taking photos of the pyramid, Raksmey took me by surprise with his request – he too wanted to have a photo taken.

Since 2007, the authority had cleared up the vegetation across the site and climbing up the pyramid was banned. We understood the necessity to protect both the structure and the visitors, but not able to climb the pyramid was nonetheless disappointing.

Prasat Bram

Prasat Bram, Koh Ker

The only eatery around was opened by a policeman. The amok pork and stir-fried deer were nothing to shout home about, but to have a cop brought the dishes was a first for me.

Without any concise objective, we set out to see as much of Koh Ker as possible within two hours. The short-lived capital’s 42 temples are quite densely packed – each is no more than a drive of a minute or two from the last one. While most of them has been reduced to a pile of rubble, the possibility of climbing atop desolate ruins allowed us to become more than spectators for once. We had to thead carefully though; the area was heavy mined and Cambodian Mine Action Centre’s (CMAC) demining effort is still continuing at the moment.

Of the half a dozen or so temples we had time for, Prasat Bram was by far the most remarkable. It was like Ta Prohm on steroid – the tree roots were more untamed and the temples more neglected. Best of all, nobody else was in sight and there were no fences that restricted us from walking to wherever we liked.

For long day trip time is always in short supply. In order to visit Beng Mealea we had to get moving at 15:40, leaving behind many other temples in Koh Ker unexplored.

Beng Mealea

Beng Mealea

Our prospect of seeing Beng Mealea was getting dimmer by the minute. Arrived at 16:45, the forest in front of us looked all the more forsaken under the grayish sky.

Without a word, Raksmey led us on a mad dash to the ruins. Unlike any we had seen before, Beng Mealea was truly in a state of disrepair – a dilapidated pile of sandstone within minimal reconstruction or maintenance. There was no trail – we climbed atop the fallen columns and other chunks of sandstone and then walked along the top surface of the walls.

“Be careful – every year a few people misstep and fall to their deaths here,” Raksmey said with a slight chuckle while we were talking a breather. Not exactly comforting words, especially for our birthday girl Becky, who was wearing a pair of sandals and had some trouble keeping up.

“So how do people who are less fit visit Beng Mealea? Are they discouraged to come?” I asked, to which his reply was, ”Nooo… there is a regular trail. But we saved the admission fee by going this way. And it is much more interesting, don’t you think?”

Well it certainly was. Becky grudgingly agreed even though her flimsy sandals were as discomforting as ever and there was nowhere to go but down.

Grand Circuit, Angkor

Sunrise at Srah Srang

December 19, 2011

Photo set on Flickr

Sunrise at Srah Srang

A new morning. Another 4:30 start to the day. I have never get up in the wee hours on consecutive days just for sunrises. But since it gets really hot at noon even in December, it doesn’t hurt to get going early then head back to the hotel for a nap after lunch.

We left without Becky as she wasn’t feeling well. This morning’s drive was a little longer than yesterday’s but not nearly as many cars. Our destination Srah Srang is a royal bath and reservoir dug in the 10th century.

As we had experienced on the previous day, Angkor Wat is the preferred destination for sunrise viewing, leaving lesser sites like Srah Srang relatively free of tourists. With lots of space to roam along the shore, I set up my gear on the left side, a few hundred metres away from a Chinese tour group who curiously chose to shoot at a spot with a distracting tree in the foreground. The sun put on another splendid display; after seeing four sunrises/sunsets in a row this had become expected.

The emergence of sunlight couldn’t entirely sweep away our sleepiness. We swiftly got back to the car a little after 7, hoping the time we saved now could lead to an extended nap later in the day.

Banteay Srei

Banteay Srei

The 20 minutes car car to Banteay Srei was a torture for our sleep deprived bodies; there was enough time to start nodding off but not enough to fall asleep. My mind somehow tricked my body into believing the temple was the best thing since slice bread and I raced off towards it.

Three attributes of Banteay Srei immediately stood out: 1) Most of the structures are built of red sandstone. 2) The carvings on the temples’ walls are the most elaborate at Angkor. 3) Its miniature scale.

The red sandstone, shined upon by the direct morning light, was especially eye-catching. Better still, we were prepared for the temple to be overrun by tourists, but only a few others were present. Yet the third point was a huge downer. I guess the disappointment comes from a failure to manage my expectation; I knew beforehand that Banteay Srei is built mostly of red sandstone and contains some of the best Angkorian carvings, but I didn’t expect to cover the complex in a mere twenty minutes. Actually, Banteay Srei’s size was not as much an issue as the fact that all of its temples were roped off and a visit was limited to looking at the carvings without being able to walk inside and around the temples to search for alternative angles to explore and take photos.

Banteay Srei is still very much worth the effort to get to, but due to my own personal preference I didn’t enjoy it as much as I had hoped.

Preah Khan

Preah Khan

Temple overdose was a given at this point. Ideally we would take in two or three temples each day, but obviously our tight schedule wouldn’t allow that. Perhaps cycling the Grand Circuit is a better idea – turning some of the less noteworthy sites like Neak Pean into necessary breaks instead of a bunch of unrelated stops. That said, whatever the means of transportation couldn’t diminish the appeal of our last stop on the Grand Circuit – Preah Khan.

With minimum expectation, my opinion changed for the better after we walked past the entrance gate and into the main temple complex. Like Ta Prohm, overgrowth vegetation and unrestored temples are abundant at Preah Khan, and its fine carvings are not far behind Banteay Srei’s. Preah Khan’s arrangement of a central Buddhist temple surrounded by a series of latterly built Hindu temples gives a good perspective of the differences of the styles and how the religions coexisted and clashed during the Khmer era.

For me, what’s most memorable about Preah Khan is something rather minor. There is a two-story building north of the Hall of Dancers at the east side of the complex; its round columns, while seemingly barely worth a mention, are the only example of such in this land of the Khmer. A little diversity goes a long way for memory retention.

Angkor Wat, Revisited

Sunset at Angkor Wat

An unappetizing lunch and a one hour nap later, our full team was back at Angkor Wat to finish off what we started yesterday. The complex takes up a space of 820,000 square metres, although our focus was concentrated on the central mountain temple.

We went beyond the pools this time and got inside the temple where an ascend on two flights of steep stairs after passing through a series of darkened corridors led us to the central temple’s apex. The reward was a fine view over the entire complex. Crowd was much smaller at the top and we found it to be a good place to take a rest. We lingered until twenty minutes to go before the temple area closed at 17:00 and moved on to the inner rectangular gallery area by the pool. As the rest of the crew attentively studied the gallery’s bas-relief decoration, I was distracted by the weakening amount of sunlight from the west. Figuring the light might cast a warm glow over the ruin, I left the group and set up my tripod in front of the larger pool.

The image in my head didn’t materialize – a stubborn piece of low hanging cloud blocked all the sunlight and cast its massive shadow over the central temple. Awful light or not, I was standing in front of Angkor Wat, only there was a disconnection between what I saw and what I was feeling inside. I felt quite hollow – my experience with this iconic structure involved not much more than crossing it off my “to visit” list in my mind. Whatever the reasons, and the few that jump out of my mind are its fame, size and popularity, Angkor Wat failed to conjure up much room for imagination. Everyone comes for the postcard shot and that’s what everyone end up getting.

My friends patiently waited for me; I was the last person still standing by the pool. All this time sticking around was not a lost cause – behind us the sky had cleared up and became a blend of royal blue and fiery orange-red. Didn’t really matter that the gopura (entrance building) wasn’t too interesting a foreground – we were grateful that the sun provided us with another dazzling ending to our day.