Bicycling through Angkor, Cambodia

December 7, 2009 by Nancy
Filed under From the Travelogues, Travel

“Wait. So do we get helmets with this thing?”

“Look around, Nance. Does it look like anyone’s wearing a helmet?” My friend Trevor smiled with amusement.

I looked down at my rickety bicycle, a slightly rusty, wobbly contortion of metal that had seen its fair share of riders. Nervous as I was, at a rental cost of $1 per day, I couldn’t complain about the lack of safety equipment. The vendor gave us one last pump of air on our tires, and we took off down Pokambor Avenue toward our destination: the ancient ruins of Angkor, Cambodia.

Although tuk-tuks are the vehicle of choice to the many tourists who visit the famed Angkor temples, our intrepid group of four — on the suggestion of my friend Trevor, who had visited once before — decided to take the scenic route by bike. Time slows down when you’re moving at a jaunty 10 mph, the rhythmic undulation of your legs sending your mind into a daydream. Rusty dust kicks up at your feet. The wind sweeps across your face and neck, bringing temporary relief from the thick Cambodian humidity.

Our first requisite stop was Angkor Wat, the temple built for King Suryavarman II in the early 12th century and the national symbol of Cambodia. Dedicated to the Hindu god Vishnu, Angkor Wat was one of the kingdom’s primary religious centers — the temple is adorned with ornate bas reliefs depicting various Hindu gods and goddesses and scenes from Hindu mythology. Relics of Buddha statues remain from its latter days as a Buddhist temple, though many of the heads were removed by the Khmer Rouge when they lay siege to Angkor Wat.

From there we meandered through Angkor Thom, the largest complex within Angkor, covering 9 sq km (3.5 sq mi). Angkor Thom served as the capital city for the Khmer empire under the Mahayana Buddhist King Jayavarman VII in the late 12th and early 13th century. We came through the Victory Gate located on the east side of the city and headed toward Bayon, the official state temple of Jayavarman.

The striking sculptures and bas reliefs here have been labeled as “baroque” compared to Angkor Wat’s classical style of architecture. Mystical faces emerge from each side of Bayon’s tall towers, their individual expressions both playful and harmonious. I marvel at the sheer logistics of construction for these massive stone heads. Each sandstone block is stacked on top of each other to create the base, and then anything that doesn’t look like a face is chiseled away.

As Trevor astutely pointed out, structures such as these temples will never exist in history again. It’s true — as advanced a civilization as they were, Jayavarman had the benefit of slave labor and seemingly endless riches to fund such a project.

The gentle rolling fields of Angkor Thom lend themselves easily to a little off-road biking, and we happened to stumble across a few hidden temples along the way. We ended up alongside the Terrace of the Elephants, a wall with majestic elephants charging from the stone.

Across the way, large trees shaded napping tuk-tuk drivers as they waited for their charges to finish touring the temples. Street vendors with fruits in each hand called out to the hungry. Children selling trinkets and postcards flocked to rich tourists.

“Five postcards… one dolla. OK, ten postcards, one dolla. Please missus… you gimme one dolla?” Their eyes pleaded with desperation. Every guidebook will tell you not to accommodate these requests, no matter how generous you feel. These kids are usually sent to major tourist attractions by their parents in hopes of making money — often in lieu of going to school. Donating to a reputable orphanage or non-profit group helping children is the preferred option.

I caught a rare glimpse of a child who had nothing to sell. Her innocence was refreshing after having to ward off so many kids that day.

The day’s heat hit its peak in the afternoon, and we decided it was time to rejuvenate ourselves in the hotel pool. We would have to come back tomorrow — an entire day’s worth of exploration, and we had barely scratched the surface of this immense kingdom, which covers 400 sq km (150 sq mi) and includes more than a dozen temples and a man-made lake. Tired, sweaty and bug-bitten, we headed back into Siem Reap, our minds and bodies content with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. To bike through Angkor is to claim freedom, to reconnect with youth.

We pedaled slowly, soaking in the sticky air, laughing as we made faces to the strangers zipping by on tuk-tuks and motorbikes. For the moment, we were just four carefree kids with no training wheels, ambling from one adventure to the next.