The gods and demons are churning an ocean of milk using a giant serpent, trying to produce an elixir to make them immortal. But it’s not going well – the mountain they are using as a pivot starts to sink, the sickening motion makes the serpent spew a mortal venom, and when the god Shiva drinks up the poison, it just burns through his throat. Oh dear.
But things get better: with the help of the god Vishnu in the guise of a giant tortoise and then a four-armed human, and with another 1,000 years of churning, they eventually succeed. Their reward is not only immortality, but also a three-headed elephant, a milk-white horse, a victory shell and a cow of plenty - so probably worth it?
I’m entering Angkor Wat, admiring the wonderfully carved stone ‘bas relief’ friezes which ring the outer wall of the temple complex, animating scenes from Khmer mythology. And this is only the entrance - I hadn’t realized how extensive or intricate the buildings would be - this is, after all, the largest religious building in the world (a religion, incidentally, which whilst now Buddhist, from the story above is clearly has Hindu roots).
It really is pretty stunning, particularly early in the morning, as the sun rises over the lotus domes which make this the most recognizable of Angkor’s monuments. I’m beginning to understand what all the fuss is about.
And beautiful as Angkor Wat is, it’s only the beginning - Angkor is a great city, the centre of the Khmer empire which at its height stretched hundreds of kilometers from Thailand to Vietnam. Even the present site covers 300 square kilometers; walking round it in a day is not an option.
It’s old too: Angkor thrived for 600 years, from around 800 and 1400, with a population of around 1,000,000. (And as you insist on playing international top-trumps, at that time London had a paltry 50,000 people and took another 5 centuries to come up with poxy St Paul’s!).
Cycling to a second area of temples in the ancient city of Angkor Thom I approach Bayon, centred round a huge sculpture of a head with four faces, beautifully preserved, strange and enigmatic. The image is probably King Jayarvarman VII, with the multiple faces representing his ‘omnipresence’. It would seem that big-brothery police-states have a long pedigree here.
Once away from the tour parties I had a blissful time scrambling over monuments on the two stone causeways, the Terrace of the Elephants and the Terrace of the Leper King. I feel a bit guilty about climbing about on an ancient moment, and maybe one day it won’t be allowed, but I have to confess I loved the freedom to roam over such an amazing site. (Incidentally I had drinks later on the rather opulent Terrace of the Elephants balcony in Siem Reap – no sign of a Leper King pub though).
A brisk bike ride brought me to a third group of monuments, including the ‘lost temple’ of Preah Khan. This illustrates the recent history of the Angkor Wat city rather well – when it declined along with the Khmer empire in the 1400s, it was gradually overgrown, and by the time the French colonials ‘rediscoverd’ it in the 1860s many buildings had been completely reclaimed by the jungle.
Angkor is certainly a man-made wonder, but here it is also a natural spectacle too - the jungle has grown back and huge trees have taken over and slowly overcome large parts of the buildings. To their credit, the teams looking after the monuments appear to appreciate that both the man-made and the natural elements contribute to the special atmosphere here, and the ongoing preservation efforts seem to be sensitive to trunks and branches intertwining with sandstone.
I spent a full day at Angkor Wat - only a day, so there’s plenty more to see (and the tantalising prospect that more will be discovered). It was actually my second visit here - I came in early December to run a 10k, which was a great experience. Admittedly on that occasion I spent as much time contemplating tightness and timings as temples and tombs, but it was a great introduction all the same. I was chuffed to get round in 50 minutes, though was put in my place as Trish, the volunteer I replaced, won the women’s race in 40 minutes. Even more impressive were the many amputees who made it round the 10 and even 20k races, an impressive achievement, but also a sobering reminder of this country’s more recent, less celebrated history.
So now I know what all the fuss is about, I will certainly be back for more. Returning to my modern-day chores of shopping in the nearby town of Siem Reap, I’m delighted to find that here is one of the few places in Cambodia where you can buy butter, a true god-send. Perhaps all that demonic churning in the ocean of milk was worth it after all.
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