Banteay Chhmar (Photo: http://www.peaceofangkorweb.com/BanteayChhmar.htm)
Banteay Chhmar is still in ruins and it isn't easy to get to, but the lucky few who make the journey find serenity and solitude.
By JOHN BURGESS
Special to the Washington Post
Last update: July 1, 2009 -
It's early on a Sunday morning in Cambodia, and I'm standing at a 12th-century moat. Traces of mist hover above the lotus leaves that dapple the water. Across a causeway, through a tumbled-down gate, lies Banteay Chhmar, one of the largest temples ever built by the ancient Khmer Empire. My friends and I are going to have the place all to ourselves.
We walk in. It turns out that we do end up sharing it, with a local man who brings his cows onto the grounds to graze. And with an affable mason who leads us across acres of fallen stone to see a message from the past, an inscription chiseled into the doorjamb of a holy tower. This kind of company we welcome.
Cambodia's great temples of Angkor, 65 miles away, have long since been rediscovered after a quarter-century of being closed by war. They now draw more than a million foreign visitors a year, not a few of whom regret that so many other people had the same idea. At peak hours, human traffic jams can form at temple steps once reserved for kings and priests.
But go beyond Angkor and you can find places that serve up the old solitude and sense of discovery. You can explore at your own pace, to the sounds of birds and the breeze that stirs the leaves overhead. In postcards and e-mails home, you will search for words worthy of your sentiments of wonder.
Banteay Chhmar is among the most spectacular of these places. Getting to it entails hours on bumpy and dusty dirt roads.
Staying the night means making do with primitive accommodations: candlelit rooms in local homes, bath water drawn from that same moat.
I stayed the night, and it turned out to really make the visit. The next morning I rose early, as everyone here does, and took a walk in clean country air. I passed mother hens foraging with their chicks, boys tending to a mud oven in which charcoal was being made. I was seeing not only a temple but a way of life.
Banteay Chhmar is still in ruins and it isn't easy to get to, but the lucky few who make the journey find serenity and solitude.
By JOHN BURGESS
Special to the Washington Post
Last update: July 1, 2009 -
It's early on a Sunday morning in Cambodia, and I'm standing at a 12th-century moat. Traces of mist hover above the lotus leaves that dapple the water. Across a causeway, through a tumbled-down gate, lies Banteay Chhmar, one of the largest temples ever built by the ancient Khmer Empire. My friends and I are going to have the place all to ourselves.
We walk in. It turns out that we do end up sharing it, with a local man who brings his cows onto the grounds to graze. And with an affable mason who leads us across acres of fallen stone to see a message from the past, an inscription chiseled into the doorjamb of a holy tower. This kind of company we welcome.
Cambodia's great temples of Angkor, 65 miles away, have long since been rediscovered after a quarter-century of being closed by war. They now draw more than a million foreign visitors a year, not a few of whom regret that so many other people had the same idea. At peak hours, human traffic jams can form at temple steps once reserved for kings and priests.
But go beyond Angkor and you can find places that serve up the old solitude and sense of discovery. You can explore at your own pace, to the sounds of birds and the breeze that stirs the leaves overhead. In postcards and e-mails home, you will search for words worthy of your sentiments of wonder.
Banteay Chhmar is among the most spectacular of these places. Getting to it entails hours on bumpy and dusty dirt roads.
Staying the night means making do with primitive accommodations: candlelit rooms in local homes, bath water drawn from that same moat.
I stayed the night, and it turned out to really make the visit. The next morning I rose early, as everyone here does, and took a walk in clean country air. I passed mother hens foraging with their chicks, boys tending to a mud oven in which charcoal was being made. I was seeing not only a temple but a way of life.
Getting to Banteay Chhmar from Angkor takes about four hours, maybe longer. And in Cambodia you need to be game for some adventure, or at least for some delays. But other ancient sites beyond Angkor can be reached more quickly.
The 12th-century temple complex of Beng Mealea lies about 1 1/2 hours by road -- a good road -- east of Angkor. Being so close, it has some tourist bustle, but nothing like Angkor's.
The temple was built at roughly the same time as Angkor Wat and shares many of its style characteristics. Perhaps Beng Mealea was a trial lab for the better-known temple's style. Visit and you may wonder: If the ancient Khmers had Beng Mealea, why would they need Angkor Wat?
Another site, Koh Ker, lies an hour and a half beyond Beng Mealea by a generally rough road. Koh Ker is an area, not a single temple, that for centuries was a center of provincial culture. In A.D. 928, when its prince became King Jayavarman IV, the capital came to him, rather than vice versa, for reasons perhaps related to his feuding with the previous king.
Today Koh Ker has dozens of stone creations, some large and imposing, some small and intimate. The most spectacular is a complex that is three temples in one, including the Prang, the largest pyramid that Khmer architects built. Faced in sandstone, it has seven levels and stands about 115 feet tall. This was Jayavarman IV's state temple.
From that complex, we drove a circuit through wooded land, coming to smaller but still remarkable temples every few hundred yards. Prasat Krachap has many images of the god Shiva. Banteay Pichean has two brick towers standing in front of a collapsed central sanctuary. At those places and others, I encountered only a guard who was posted there to prevent art theft.
Without question, the most spectacular of the Khmer monuments outside Angkor is Preah Vihear, built atop a 1,700-foot cliff. The visitor ascends a long stone-paved avenue, arriving at ever-larger holy buildings. At the top is the main sanctuary and, a few steps beyond, a jaw-dropping view of Cambodian countryside.
But for now, Preah Vihear is best left off your schedule. Situated in Cambodia right at the border with Thailand, it has since last year been the scene of a military standoff between the two countries' soldiers. This is the latest flare-up in a long feud over the temple, which the World Court ruled in 1962 belonged to Cambodia.
But if on a future trip the soldiers have left, give thought to a visit. Going from Siem Reap is daunting: perhaps five hours each way over very rough roads, then a hike or motorcycle taxi in the heat up the cliff. Accommodations are minimal. The more comfortable and common way to reach the temple, assuming the border is open, is from Thailand. Thai tour companies can make the arrangements.
The 12th-century temple complex of Beng Mealea lies about 1 1/2 hours by road -- a good road -- east of Angkor. Being so close, it has some tourist bustle, but nothing like Angkor's.
The temple was built at roughly the same time as Angkor Wat and shares many of its style characteristics. Perhaps Beng Mealea was a trial lab for the better-known temple's style. Visit and you may wonder: If the ancient Khmers had Beng Mealea, why would they need Angkor Wat?
Another site, Koh Ker, lies an hour and a half beyond Beng Mealea by a generally rough road. Koh Ker is an area, not a single temple, that for centuries was a center of provincial culture. In A.D. 928, when its prince became King Jayavarman IV, the capital came to him, rather than vice versa, for reasons perhaps related to his feuding with the previous king.
Today Koh Ker has dozens of stone creations, some large and imposing, some small and intimate. The most spectacular is a complex that is three temples in one, including the Prang, the largest pyramid that Khmer architects built. Faced in sandstone, it has seven levels and stands about 115 feet tall. This was Jayavarman IV's state temple.
From that complex, we drove a circuit through wooded land, coming to smaller but still remarkable temples every few hundred yards. Prasat Krachap has many images of the god Shiva. Banteay Pichean has two brick towers standing in front of a collapsed central sanctuary. At those places and others, I encountered only a guard who was posted there to prevent art theft.
Without question, the most spectacular of the Khmer monuments outside Angkor is Preah Vihear, built atop a 1,700-foot cliff. The visitor ascends a long stone-paved avenue, arriving at ever-larger holy buildings. At the top is the main sanctuary and, a few steps beyond, a jaw-dropping view of Cambodian countryside.
But for now, Preah Vihear is best left off your schedule. Situated in Cambodia right at the border with Thailand, it has since last year been the scene of a military standoff between the two countries' soldiers. This is the latest flare-up in a long feud over the temple, which the World Court ruled in 1962 belonged to Cambodia.
But if on a future trip the soldiers have left, give thought to a visit. Going from Siem Reap is daunting: perhaps five hours each way over very rough roads, then a hike or motorcycle taxi in the heat up the cliff. Accommodations are minimal. The more comfortable and common way to reach the temple, assuming the border is open, is from Thailand. Thai tour companies can make the arrangements.
No comments:
Post a Comment