13/4/25
We got up at 6am so we had time to prep the bikes. We couldn’t help but feel apprehensive about cycling again after almost a week. We reassured ourselves it would pass. We moved the bikes into the courtyard and loaded the panniers. At 7am on the dot we ordered our breakfast. But they had no tofu. We ‘demanded’ extra baked beans instead!
Just as we were ready to leave some Americans from Colorado started picking our brains. We recommended they go with Pheak for an adventure tour. They were fascinated by our cycling journey. To leave Siem Reap we decided to take the ‘quickest’ route using National Highway 6. There was another option but it wasn’t surfaced. We opted for the extremely busy tarmac. It was beyond frustrating for our lives to be at the hands of such a large number of incompetent fools. The ones riding engines would just join the highway without looking. Cagers just sounded their horns and ploughed through.
Once we were outside the city we saw multiple motorcades. A police truck at the front and then a line of high end SUVs mashing down the centre of the road with hazards on. Elites or government we assume.
The first leg was about 15km. It could have been idyllic. The road was lined with trees. As we turned off to visit the Roulos temples we were immediately subject to a ticket check. It wasn’t possible for foreigners to even go down the road without one. We had to leave our bikes outside Bakong. They were literally cars and trucks driving in but our bicycles weren’t allowed. We guessed it wasn’t the bicycles that were the problem.
Bakong is a sandstone ‘temple mountain’. The first one to be built. We particularly enjoyed the beautiful elephants that adorned every corner, of every level, of the temple. A lot of them were deteriorated, but they were still distinguishable as trunked beasts.
Preah Ko was another temple dedicated to the good king as we call him. Jayavarman II. We think Bakong was also dedicated to him. It’s also known as The Sacred Bull on account of the three pretty little bull statues at the front.
We continued on National Highway 6 towards Phnom Penn. This side of Siem Reap was far busier than the west. Motorcades repeatedly came steaming through. They were even escorted by the police. The expensive vehicles behind had their hazard lights on and just drove down the middle of the road. Everyone had to out of the way.
We turned off the road we’d deemed insane after another 7 km. It had got worse and worse. The road to the brand new Siem Reap airport however, was perfect. Brand new, super clean, street lights, crash barriers, hard shoulder. The works.
We turned off onto a less well surfaced road after half an hour. We never did see the airport. We were soon passing through beautiful little villages again. Huge smiles on our faces again as everyone waved and shouted “Hello!”. We stopped to get some drinks and the woman gave us two free bottles of water. The can of ‘winter melon’ drink just tasted like cane sugar.
Once we hit the 64 it was the usual Cambodian style road. Just not as hectic as the 6. The road surface was poor. The road was lined with shops including clothes stores. We didn’t see as many tourists even though the road led straight to more temples. It was 20km to the next temple and it was already midday. It felt very hot. We stopped to buy water and mixed up some electrolytes. We just had to suck it up. We debated how much the breakfast was worth.
We were headed north. More and more blackened fields surrounded us. It was surprising that some of them still had trees like a light burning had taken place. As we got closer to the next temple, we could see a ridge line appearing on our left. We hadn’t seen many hills in Cambodia.
Beng Mealea was a long way from the main Angkor complex. At least on bikes. We had expected to see lots of westerners here. Not one. Only Cambodians it seemed. But only the elites. We willingly left our bikes at the entrance. Only pedestrians were allowed in. And the rule applied to everyone. Two small girls tried to sell us postcards. The photos weren’t actually of Beng Mealea, but Banteay Srei, miles to the north. They kept saying it would pay for them to go to school. We had a feeling their parents told them what to say.
After having our tickets checked, we walked down the long paved path towards the ruins. In front of us piles of stone blocks lay mounded up. The jungle and trees had subsumed the temple in front of us. A wooden boardwalk had been installed to lead visitors through the remains. Stairs led us up and over the walls. It was really the most fantastic experience. The best temple we’d visited by far. Zero ‘restoration’ had taken place. It was an exploration of how nature could take back.
We returned to the bikes and managed to cycle another 7km. It was uphill the whole way. And now it was the hottest part of the day. We were so glad to arrive at Choeng Phnom Kulen, the guest house, just outside the town. As we looked around for the owner a woman arrived on a scooter. She must have been watching. The room was $12.50 a night. It was a simple room we were used to.
There was a restaurant ten minutes away that according to google had an English speaker. We went there and managed to get some rice and vegetables. A win of sorts. Back at our room we lay in the cool air and watched some television. We were back on the road once more.
Surly They Won't Make It 