

Our
last day at Angkor Wat - our $40/3 day pass expires today, so we set
off early again to get the most of our time. We'd chosen two last temples,
the first being Preah Kahn (yes, I had to write the names down - there's
no way I would remember all of these tomorrow!), which seemed an endless
succession of dark passageways. Emily loved exploring through them,
seeing what she could find, and seemingly trying to get lost!


Emily
and Charlotte also both enjoy 'praying to Buddha' - at the heart of
each temple, old women sit with joss sticks, encouraging tourists to
make an offering to the temple by lighting sticks and bowing three times
- followed by an offering of dollar notes into the indicated receptacle
(which always seems to be mysteriously nearly empty). Fortunately, I've
got some low denomination riel notes (4,000 Cambodian riel to $1) which
means the girls can do it, and the old lady gets the cost of her joss
sticks back, but without the multi-dollar profit that goes straight
into her back pocket.

Then
it was onto our very last temple, Ta Som. Again, the girls sat in the
shade in the tuk-tuk, while we went in for a look around. The entrance
was guarded by a gateway topped with the omnipresent Angkor face - this
one had plants growing out of the cracks, and you could see daylight
through some of the huge cracks which split the face. Every temple is
undergoing some form of restoration, after years of neglect. Originally
the French were the only country allowed to work on them, because they
were the colonial power, but now Japan, the UK, India, America and others
are all involved, and each has been allocated their 'own' temple to
work on. And each seems to be restored differently - some towers are
strapped together with ropes, awaiting further work, while some are
completely dismantled and completely rebuilt. In the case of Ta Prohm
(the overgrown one) the Indian restorers are busily working on how to
get rid of all the trees growing around the temple (which is a shame,
because that is the major attraction of it).

We
also had the chance at Ta Som to take a couple of pictures with an obliging
monk. From pictures we'd previously seen we'd expected the Angkor temples
to be flooded with bald men in orange robes, but the reality is different.
Many, many monks were killed during the Khmer Rouge rule, and we’ve
seen less monks here than in neighbouring countries. Inside Angkor,
most of the monks seem to be tourists too - from Thailand and Vietnam
- who are visiting to see the sights just like us. We saw monks taking
pictures of each other while they posed in front of temples.


In
the evening, we went to the FCC, the Foreign Correspondents Club, which
is a bar and restaurant offshoot of the famous Phnom Phen club. We'd
managed to track down Daira, who we'd made friends with on the long
bus journey from Bangkok. She was lucky enough to have friends in Siem
Reap, who were the resident managers of a very exclusive hotel in town.
She'd had a tough few days, with the hotel pool to cool off in, and
some very special attention in a place where it would be really noticed.
So Happy Hour at the luxurious FCC probably meant more to us - splashing
out on $1 beers, with sugar-roasted peanuts to nibble on - and after
so long without much beer, we managed to get merry on $10 of drinks!
(My friends will at this point say something like
"No change there
then...").
Then we retired to her friend's apartment at the hotel, where Charlotte
and Emily got to play with children their own age, while we ate pizza
and talked about everything from living in Cambodia to the price of
Sydney houses.