Beng Mealea

Volunteers Donna and Jill and I have had dinner together several times now and did so again Friday night, at the Red Piano, made famous by the patronage of Tomb Raider Angelina Jolie. Jill mentioned that she had a tuktuk booked to take her to Beng Mealea the next day and asked if we wanted to go along. 

I’d been before but agreed immediately to go again. I haven’t been doing much with my weekends recently so the chance of a long tuktuk ride out of the city and of flexing my IndiAnnie instincts clambering about amongst ancient ruins was impossible to resist. Donna hesitated as she was feeling weary after a long hot week at the volunteering coalface and, in the event, decided more sleep was preferable.

Not me! I set my alarm for 6am and got an early night, excited at the prospect of an excellent day out. Soon after 8 the next morning, I was at Jill’s hotel and we set off with Mr Ong, her favourite tuktuk driver, at about 8.20. Riding down national route 6 is always interesting, if a trifle scary with all the crazy drivers weaving madly in and out but Mr Ong proved capable and cautious, and saw us safely there and back for the very reasonable sum of US$35.

The road to Beng Mealea takes you down route 6 about 25kms to the town of Damdek, where you turn left and head out into the countryside through, at this time of the year, the bone-dry stubble of rice fields and an assortment of small settlements. The hot wind blasted my hair into the most unflattering of styles; I smiled and waved at small children playing by the wayside and women sitting gossiping outside their wooden shacks; I savoured the ubiquitous smell of wood smoke and used my ever-present krama to avoid choking on the equally ubiquitous red dust; and I snapped photos of locals perched precariously atop trailer-loads of wood or squashed four to a motorbike, plus shopping. These are some of my favourite things about Cambodia!

The entrance fee to Beng Mealea is just US$5, unrivalled value for the three hours we spent exploring. Most tourists probably take just half that time, but Jill turned out to be a like-minded soul, a Classics scholar like me, fascinated with ancient architecture and keen to explore every nook and cranny.

The name Beng Mealea means ‘lotus pond’ but the only flowers I saw in the 45-metre-wide moat that surrounds the site were water hyacinths. The tourist approach is across this moat from the south, along a causeway bordered by long balustrades representing the bodies of the seven-headed nagas that guard the causeway entrance. The south gate itself is blocked by fallen masonry, but authorities have constructed a series of wooden steps and walkways that carry the visitor into this masonry maze, up and over stone walls and cloisters to the rooftops and first floor levels so you can get an excellent idea of the layout of the temple complex.

One of the nagas, with the south gate in the background

Looking back out through the south gate from inside the complex

It is large – approximately one kilometre square – and has been greatly ravaged by weather erosion and rampant vegetation, with tree roots and strangler vines prising apart the massive stones, causing them to tumble into large mounds like some giant’s abandoned Lego. Nothing has been restored so you can get a good feel for what all the Angkorian temples would have looked like when first reclaimed from the jungle.

Little is known of Beng Mealea’s history or why it was built at such a distance from the main Angkor temples near Siem Reap, but its architectural similarities with Angkor Wat have led archaeologists to surmise that it was built by King Suryavaram in the early 12th century. Although it was primarily a Hindu temple, it also has some Buddhist carvings amongst its ruins. Few of the sculptural reliefs are in good condition but it is possible to make out scenes from the Hindu myth of the Churning of the Sea of Milk, apsara dancers can be spotted amongst the confusion of stones, and a lion’s feet sit alone, forever disconnected from their owner.

At approximately 75kms distance by road, Beng Mealea is far enough from Siem Reap to be spared the hordes of tourists that can nowadays spoil the Angkor Wat tourist experience, though the busloads have begun to invade here too. Luckily, it is still possible to find a quiet spot to marvel at the wonderful variety of butterflies fluttering around the stones, to linger while small lizards do battle over their territory, and to try to imagine what this enigmatic place was like in its heyday.

One word of caution … don’t wander off the well-trodden paths here. A sign near the entrance declares that 438 anti-personnel mines and 809 UXOs (pieces of unexploded ordinance) have been cleared from the area in the past 10 years but the work is ongoing!

More tuk-tukking round the temples

As we’d bought a 3-day, use-within-7-days temple pass the previous Tuesday, Saturday the 5th of January and Sunday the 6th were both spent templing. Although Marianne and I had seen most of these, Marianne’s friend (and now mine) Steve had not … as if we needed an excuse to go yet again!

On Saturday, after collecting Steve from his hotel, we headed south on the main road to Phnom Penh and hit the Roulos group of temples: first Bakong, then Preah Ko and lastly Lolei.

Bakong is purported to be the first of the state temples of the Angkor period, having been consecrated to Shiva in 881. It is in relatively good condition as it was restored in 1940 using the original stones. Across the causeway of the wide moat that surrounded the temple complex, there’s a modern wat (temple) housing an assembly of monks, and there I was befriended by a very cute little cat – but more on Cambodian cats in another blog.

Next was Preah Ko. Three mostly ruined sacred bulls guard the temple at the front of a platform holding 2 rows of 3 towers. There are lovely leaf, floral and geometrical designs on the carvings on the octagonal door columns of the towers and some of the lintels still show beautiful garlands and images of Kali, a Hindu god of death.

A young monk in the modern pagoda at Lolei

Next to Lolei, where the temple towers are mostly in ruins, That didn’t matter as we were spotted by a zealous local youth, who offered us some information about the site before leading us off to see the small school where he is taught by the local monks. Of course, it was a ploy to get us to donate some dollars to the school but that was okay, as these places desperately need supporting and he was a very nice lad so we were happy to give a few dollars.

We lunched at Lolei, at a small local stall opposite the temple platform. So many tourists ignore these little local places, terrified that they’ll pick up some dreaded stomach bug when the reality is that the food is delicious and it’s nice to enjoy a chat with the locals!

We took a break from the temples in the afternoon and, instead, had an excursion on the water. Marianne and Steve both work in the yachting industry in the south of France so being on the water seemed appropriate. We tuk-tukked down the long long road that leads towards Tonle Sap, the largest freshwater lake in South-East Asia, then clambered aboard our wooden long boat. They are rather primitive and extremely noisy contraptions but the breeze was very refreshing, and we were soon chugging along the waterways through Kompong Phluk, a lakeside village built entirely on high stilts to protect the houses, school, church, restaurants, etc from the floods of the rainy season.

Next day we headed out relatively early, hoping to reach that world wonder Angkor Wat before the crowds. Fat chance! But it was lovely to see again, to take the obligatory reflection photos in the pool full of water lilies and, this time, to be able to climb the precariously steep stairway up the central tower – the two previous times I’d visited, it had been under restoration so inaccessible.

Just as we were leaving, we were treated to the sight of a local wedding party, arriving to have their wedding photos taken. Here, the brides, in particular, are so heavily made up – with false eyelashes, layers of make up and hair-pieces - that they are barely recognisable. This group was happy to pose for tourists to take their photos.

My absolute favourite temple was next on the list: Bayon. The huge and magnificent faces on its stone towers always amaze, impress and delight me. Their expressions are mesmerising and every corner presents yet another photo opportunity. Thank god for digital cameras!

After another yummy lunch, we strolled leisurely around the temples of Phimeanakas and Baphuon, plus the elephant terrace and the Terrace of the Leper King – strolled because it was extremely hot and humid and we were all wilting a little.

Luckily, a long tuk-tuk ride followed, as we headed out of town to the West Baray. Baray is the Khmer word for man-made reservoir and this one is huge, approximately 8kms x 2kms. Construction was probably begun in the 11th century. The building method is unusual – they didn’t excavate, but rather erected dikes to contain the water. Although there are no beaches to speak of, the locals like spending a lazy afternoon or evening swimming, then eating and swinging on hammocks under small, open-air shelters at the waterside. As it was late afternoon and therefore beer o’clock, we finished off another perfect weekend sipping on cold beers while sitting on the steps down to the water.