The 4 AM alarm jolted me awake, and I eagerly rose, pulling on my linen clothes. Stepping into the lobby of my Cambodian hotel, I met my guide, Prom, and chauffeur, Pisey. Despite a restless night, I was brimming with excitement, eager to witness the archaeological treasures of Southeast Asia that had captivated my imagination for years.
We set off in a remork, the Cambodian version of a tuk-tuk—a sleek trailer towed by a motorbike. The cool pre-dawn air of Siem Reap, Cambodia’s second-largest city, enveloped me as we navigated the calm, misty streets. The invigorating air, tinged with the subtle scent of the previous day’s downpour, refreshed my lungs. I reveled in the simple pleasures of being an early riser.
After a quick stop at the ticket center to acquire our entry passes to the UNESCO-listed Angkor Archaeological Park, we reached the serene back gopura (entrance) of the magnificent Angkor Wat—the world’s largest religious monument and a testament to the brilliance of Khmer architecture.
Embedded like a jewel in the verdant jungle, the imposing 12th-century sandstone edifice, with its tiered, lotus-bud towers, inspired awe. The site was empty, allowing me to wander at my own pace. Prom handed me a steaming cup of black coffee before we ventured into the minimalist yet ornately carved complex, home to glorious temples, naturally-lit corridors, interlinked galleries, and graceful pools.
Within, sculpted bas-reliefs depicted everyday scenes from the Khmer Empire, the life of King Suryavarman II—who commissioned the construction of Angkor Wat—and mythological tales from the Ramayana and the Mahabharata. The vividly executed “Churning of the Ocean of Milk,” or Samudra Manthan, particularly captivated me. This scene portrays a tug-of-war between 88 devas (gods) and 92 asuras (demons), using Vasuki (the king of serpents) as a rope to churn the cosmic ocean for amrita, the elixir of immortality.
We ascended a flight of steep steps to reach the upper level. Prom explained, “They say it took over 300,000 workers, 6,000 elephants, and 30 years to build Angkor Wat, which is a miniature replica of the spatial universe.” As we took in the wider view of the spectacular complex, surrounded by a 190-meter-wide moat, I was amazed by the scale of this architectural masterpiece.
Among Angkor’s other highlights are carvings of over 3,000 enchanting, voluptuous apsaras, each adorned with a stylish hairstyle and a unique sarong. Prom pointed out an apsara ensemble with the iconic Louis Vuitton-esque monogram. It seems the affluent French fashion house might have taken inspiration from the ancient Khmer empire.
As a passionate writer and sketcher who captures my journeys in vivid pen and watercolor renditions, I was overwhelmed by the mystical beauty of Angkor Wat. I felt an irresistible urge to sketch every detail etched in stone. For architecture enthusiasts, this site is a quintessential example of perfection in size, scale, and symmetry.
Bathed in an inner glow, I hopped back into the remork. While savoring a breakfast of juicy pineapples, mangoes, and papaya, we were on our way to Ta Prohm temple, dedicated to the mother of Jayavarman VII. Built in 1186 as a Rajavihara (Monastery of the King), it served as a Buddhist temple and a center of knowledge.
As we wandered aimlessly through the site, I was astounded by the entrances, marvelously strangulated by the roots of centuries-old trees. Creeper plants and shrubs sprouted from gaps in loosened stones, roofs, and bas-reliefs. Hidden courtyards were obstructed by piles of carved, moss-covered stone blocks.
It’s no wonder that the makers of Angelina Jolie’s Lara Croft: Tomb Raider (2001) chose this atmospheric temple as their filming location. Ta Prohm stands as a poignant symbol of the intricate relationship between mankind and nature. As conservationist Rachel Carson aptly stated, “But man is a part of nature, and his war against nature is inevitably a war against himself.”
Back in the circular dining room at Amansara, my haven in Siem Reap, I enjoyed a light lunch of Poached Prawn and Pomelo salad, Cambodian fried rice, and traditional Khmer curry. Originally built as Villa Princière by French architect Laurent Mondet in 1962, it served as a retreat for guests of King Norodom Sihanouk—the royal descendant of Angkor’s supreme architect, King Jayavarman VII.
After lunch, I pulled out my sketchbook and spent the rest of the afternoon illustrating the otherworldly wonders of Angkor’s archaeological sites. In the evening, we explored Angkor Thom—a nine-square-kilometer walled city and the last capital of the Khmer Empire. We entered through its impressive Tonle Om, or South Gate, to reach the mind-boggling Bayon Temple, a unique masterpiece adorned with 54 gothic towers decorated with 216 iconic visages of Avalokiteshvara (the bodhisattva of compassion).
According to Prom, these faces symbolized the king’s omnipresence, signifying a striking shift in religious beliefs from Hinduism to Mahayana Buddhism. Surrounded by enormous heads gazing from different angles, I felt transported back in time, imagining the aura and supremacy of the structure in its heyday.
We spent some time interpreting the bas-relief chronicles: Khmer soldiers marching off to combat, Hindus worshipping a linga (phallic symbol), naval battle scenes between the Khmers and the Chams, locals playing chess, and selling fish in the marketplace.
For those seeking a deeper understanding of Khmer artistry, a local recommended a visit to the Angkor National Museum. “It’s also a great place to escape the typical hot and humid Cambodian afternoons,” he added.
We began at the serene, dimly lit Buddha gallery, featuring over 1,000 relics and statues of the wandering ascetic. Through literary works, sculptures, folk tales, maps, and interactive exhibits, other galleries unveiled Angkor’s mysteries, cultural and religious beliefs, and engineering plans. I particularly enjoyed browsing the collection of sculptures that showcased the sartorial flair of gods, goddesses, and apsaras.
A delightful entertainment venue in Siem Reap is the Phare Circus tent, a social enterprise run by Battambang’s Phare Ponleu Selpak, a non-profit school founded by survivors of the brutal Khmer Rouge regime. This “circus with a cause” is a unique spectacle, devoid of clowns, animals, and ringmasters. It seamlessly blends Cambodian art (several acts feature an artist painting live on canvas), peppy rhythms played using instruments like drums, guitar, xylophone, and khim, and jaw-dropping acrobatics.
Seated comfortably on one of the no-frills hardwood seats, I couldn’t help but clap and tap my feet to the live music. As the performers took me on a journey through Cambodian history, the artist in me was tempted to grab my notebook and sketch the scenes unfolding before me. However, the traveler in me understood that being fully present in the moment would allow me to recreate these scenes from memory later.
