Adventures in the Cardomoms

Well it was to be expected, the ride through the Cardomoms was an adventure alright. More of an endurance perhaps even a litle torturous. It was one of those occassions that you never forget. It is imprinted on Jacqui's and my memory, hard wired forever. We experienced incredible countryside, terrifying terrain and a road that was more an enormous trials track than thouroughfare.

The whole thing started with our bus trip to Phnom Penh from Battambang. We were sad to leave Battambang because we had such a good time there. I was a little bummed at the thought of Phnom Penh because of all those disgusting old men (who look like me) with very young girls on thier arms. I get so angry I want to hurt them, the rotten peadophiles! My imaginings were not too great in reality. We saw them but it was not too intense. We had booked a very nice hotel close to the river, but quiet enough to avoid the excess. As we had arrived on the Friday evening we had to wait till Saturday arvo to pick up the bike so that we could leave on the Sunday at sparrows fart and avoid the traffic. Phnom Penh competes with Saigon for traffic easily. It is chaotic and very dangerous. On Saturday we spent an interesting time in the Russian and main markets buying trinkets and essentials for the trip, I got a fan, a penknife, bungy straps and some chopsticks. Jacqui got some long sleeved fingerless gloves. We picked up the bike, a very tall Honda Baja 250cc dirt bike. It had a rack on the back and seemed to be everything we needed. We made it back to the hotel without too many life threatening incidents with the crazy traffic and we only got lost once. Rush hour traffic should be avoided at all costs!

The next day very early we left Phnom Penh for Prasat (halfway back towards Battambang). The trip was easy, the first bit where the roads were effectively dirt or dust should I say managed well by the bikes suspension. It was good to experience the suspension of the bike... so comfortable compared with the little scooter we took to Bantey Chammar. We arrived in Prasat at midday and found a hotel that suited. We had lunch in a local resteraunt where you got to point at one or two of a miriad of pots simmering on charcoal burners. We met an interesting Canadian there who was riding a bycycle around Cambodge. We spent a pleasant time chating and eating. During the afternoon we explored the district making sure we found the road to take to the Cardomoms. No worries or so we thought!

The next day we set out bright an early. We were headed to a place that sounded like Anglung or so I thought. We had met this bloke in Battambang who knew the Cardomoms well and I thought he had told me that there were plenty of backpacker hostels in Anglung. The books all talk about Veal Vieng or Promoui as the place to stay. The bloke told us that you turn left in Veal Vieng at a round about with a black elephant on it and then go on to Anglung. I had all this in my head as we set off. The road at first was very easy, bitumen and not very crowded. We made good time to a place called Kravanh. There we crossed a bridge and hit the dirt. Again the road was not bad, quite a few potholes and some very creative bridges but no serious problems. Again we made good time cruising along at about 40 - 60 km. I was worried that we were on the right road because we were not climbing into forest or mountain, but were on the flat agricultural land interspersed with small villages, the mountains were a distant view. We made it to Veal Vieng/Promoui/another name I can't remember by lunchtime. This business with name changes does my head in. It is very frustrating, and very difficult to plot a journey with. Anyway I decided to push on to Anglung as things were going so well. Given the road I thought this thing was going to be a doddle..... WRONG! My mistake was misunderstanding the Bloke in Battambang. He was talking about Veal Vieng as being the place with all the accommodation! The minute we left the round about with the elephant, things descended into a nightmare of extremely deep ruts and potholes that were a good example of a trials track. Anglung was a tiny village (the last one before the other side of the mountains) of maybe 20 huts and shanties. Definitely not a hostel in sight. We had gone too far to turn back and anyway you would be flat out turning round on the goat track we were on.

The climb out of Anglung was terrifying, one long series of impossibly deep ruts created by some daemonic truck that had got bogged in the wet season some months before. Most of it was rock hard but on some of the sharper bits had broken down into this powdery dust. The only good thing is that we were going uphill so I was able to use the power of the  bike and its big nobbly tyres to launch myself up and over it all. Once up the top it was a matter of navigating the ruts and potholes mostly in second gear. Doing this with a pillion on the back doubled the drama because the extra weight on the back made it swing around like some demented semi trailer. Holding the whole thing upright was a seroius job! We were definitely in the mountains now and the forest all around was dense and lush, very much a jungle. We pressed on for what seemed like hours, as it turned out it was hours! It took us another 6 to get to the coast. The hardest bits were going down the mountains. The ruts were no smaller and the sides of the roads dissappered into perilously steep mountain sides. The views were breathtaking but I had little time to take them in as I needed to stay fixated on the road surface which varied only with the size of the rocks that made up the road, the boulders that were sunk into it or the ruts that cut thier way through it all. The worst ruts were the ones that cut along the length of the road rather than across it. They were made by rains and were very deep and steep sided. Once in them it was a mammoth job to extract yourself. This is what caused our first "off"! We were going down this almost vertical slope and I slipped into a rut. There wasn't really a choice or should I say it was a choice of which rut to choose as there were more ruts than road! Anyway my rut was terminated by a big rock which terminated our motorised progress. Jacqui and I both left the machine on the left hand side, she falling free and me having my left boot trapped under the bike. Stupidly all I could think of was getting up quick to avoid getting hit by something coming from behind.... yeah sure in the middle of nowhere there would be traffic! Jacqui pulled the bike off me and we got it upright. No damage, great! Back on the bike we made it down the hill and got back into the trip. I noticed that there were problems getting more than 3 gears. So at a convenient spot I stopped to look. Jacqui got off and I bent down to have a look at the gear lever. It jumped into gear, stalled and threw me off on the same side as before face first (I am so thankful I had a motocross full face helmet on as I would have lost my face to the rocks!). There I was sitting in the dirt with the bike on the floor and my bloody phone starts to ring! We are in the middle of the jungle miles from anywhere and the phone goes off! It turns out to be some Cambodian woman speaking Khmer, which I can't Understand trying to sell me something! I am sorry to say I was a bit rude to her. I solved the problem with the gear stick, it was bent and we continued on. At one stage we came across a small village which was good  because we could get some fuel, we were running very low and this was a godsend. There was a huge lake created by this chinese dam, we skirted this for a couple of hours. There were times when we got close to a building connected to the dam and we would get onto a concrete strip. This was heaven and we relished the smoothness only to be thrown back cruelly onto even more horrendous dirt and rock. This went on and on and on. Finally about 30Km from Koh Kong, our destination we got onto another strip of concrete. I thought it was there just to tempt and to torture but it stayed with us till the end halleluliah! There were a couple of extra bits when we came across trucks going in the opposite direction and we had to get off the concrete, a twelve inch drop to the dirt but we managed. After the trip we had just done that was easy. You can't imagine my relief at arriving in Koh Kong. We went straight to a resteraunt on the waterfront and ordered mix juice shakes all round. The people there were impressed by our state, covered in dust and dirt, bloodied and bent but ecstatic that we had made it. My oh my what wonders life throws up. Someone asked us if we had seen any animals? I asked what kind of animals and they said tigers or elephants. I was nonplussed, I had not even thought about tigers! My god the road was enough of a tiger for me!

Artworks in Battambang

There are times when you travel when kismet steps in and you get the most incredible experience, unsought, uplifting, unforgettable and totally life affeciting. This happened to Jacqui and I in Battembang. It started with a simple meeting of minds and ended with us both in raptures that we are still talking about 2 days later. On our third day in town we decided that we wanted to find a cafe that served coffee and cakes. A search of the books and the maps revealed the Cocoart cafe. We found it after a little walk, a very pleasant little establishment run by young people with some incredible paintings on the wall. They were all very good, all very different and some quite disturbing, evocative and full of pain. We met this Belgian man there (Igor) who had just bought a painting. It was a self portrait of the artist but in a very confronting way. He had painted it with the canvass (about 2m X 1.5m)  lying flat on the floor. He had used unconventional methods to create the image, flinging the paint onto the surface. Then he had stood it up and "let it bleed". The effect was dramatic. Anyway we got talking to Igor and the artist who invited us to the grand opening of a new gallery in town the next night at 6pm. That was the day we had planned to hire a bike and go 120Km north to a Khmer temple at Bantey Chammar. We promised that we would be back by 6pm for the opening.

The next morning bright and early we rode off to Bantey Chammar. It was one hell of a trek. Cambodian driving would have to be described as "creative" as there appeared to be no rhyme or reason to thier actions. We dodged and dived and ducked our way for 3 hours north. The final 30Km was on dirt, the last 5km peppered with deep potholes filled with the finest bulldust. Luckily I did not put the bike down although it came pretty close a couple of times. I got bogged in one hole that fit the entire bike, Jacqui having to bail out so I could drag the thing up and out of the hole. We made it to the temple a huge sprawling complex that renewed our tomb raider theme. There was virtually no one about, in fact we had to search out someone so that we could buy a ticket. Being honest and honourable folk we wanted to pay because we believed in supporting the upkeep. The temple itself is on the scale of Angkor Wat but it is almost totally pulled down by the surrounding trees and vegetation. I reckon it was built on the same lines as the Bayonne at Angkor Thom, the one with all the towers with faces on them as it had similar towers with faces. We clambered over the ruins for about 2 hours. It was even more spectacular than Beng Mealea several days before. We were completely alone and  made our way through by intuition and luck. We found amazing freezes on the walls depicting battles and daily life of the time and many armed gods with fantastic adornments. We finally made our way back to the bike and went to have lunch in the local village. The trip back to Battambang was quicker as I knew where a lot of the potholes were and we were familiar with the route. We were only nearly killed once when this bloody great truck did a U turn in front of us. Thank the gods for my experience, reflexes and good brakes as without them I would not be writing this now! We made good time getting home so were able to have a "Blueberry and coconut freeze" (a kind of shake that Jacqui and I love and crave) and a shower at our hotel before the opening.

Now comes the really good part. We rocked up to the gallery, which was next door to the place that sells the Blueberry and Coconut freeze called unsuprisingly "The Kitchen". We  met Igor and the Artist and walked into the gallery. Out the front was a life sized Water Buffalo made out of recycled tyres and inner tubes. It felt like buffalo skin and was very impressive. Inside was an array of paintings and installations that caught and challenged the imagination and the mind. Some were confronting and some were just "Wow"! There were a number of different styles and also mediums. There were projectors showing different and strange scenes of cambodian life as art and fortunately a lot of food to nibble on. Waitresses from The Kitchen wondered through dispensing a prodigious variety of cocktails some tasty some fruity and all alcoholic. There is a burgeoning art scene in Battambang and we had stepped bang smack into the middle of it thanks to Igor. We wondered through the rooms around a huge crowd of people enjoying the space and the atmosphere. Because they had so much going on the fuses kept blowing and the place would plunge into darkness every so often. This did not deter. At one stage we went down the road to another bar/resteraunt with a woman from Melbourne to have a drink and sit down. When we got back the "performance" had just got started. To explain.... we had stumbled onto (when we went to the Chocoart cafe) a group of amazing young artists who had been working together and supporting each other for a couple of years. The "performance" was thier collective work. The scene was set in the middle of an alley (street 1.5) out the front of the gallery. There was a very large blank canvass upright in the middle of the street. In front by a few metres were two "trees" in pots. At one side a man was standing on a small wooden step. He was naked except for underpants and completely covered in white paint. He stood there motionless. One of the artists came round from the back of the canvass and with a straw broom/brush he began to hit and brush the canvas with paint. His movements were full of energy and emotion. The effect was spellbinding. The artist finished his work and went behind the canvas. A second appeared and using the brush applied more colours. Another appeared who had very long hair. He proceeded to dip his hair into the paint and wip the canvas with it again with energy and emotion. By this time I am beside myself, it was so powerful! When he had finished his work and had gone behind the canvas the painted man began, slowly at first, with just a twitch to move. He walked to the painting and took up a position like a crucifix in front of the canvas. Two of the artists appeared with knotted hessian ropes that were quite thick and began to whip the canvas with these ropes dipped in paint, right beside the man painted white. The effect was extremely violent and intimidating. The white man began to push the men with ropes away violently from the canvas as if to protect it. Then a third artist appeared carrying a chain (about 2m long). He proceeded to beat the canvas after dipping the chain in paint. Again it was violent and intimidating and to me evocative of Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge period. He then wrapped the bloodied chain (it was red paint he used) around the body of the white painted man and dragged him to the ground. The red paint scouring his white body. The effect was electric! Then the light went out and the street plunged into darkness. Flaming torches were lit and the trees in front set on fire. This provided the light. The artists surrounding the hunched painted man on the floor. They appeared to go through an epiphany, realising that they had made a serious mistake. They seemed lost and bereft. One went behind the canvas and returned with some orange scarves. He gave each artist a scarf. They then stood the white painted man up. He was smeared with red from the chain. They lifted his arms to form the crucifix and wrapped the scarves around his body, his arms and his head. It was done in a gentle, caring and compassionate way, full of sad emotion. He responded in a forgiving way. They then stood together and bowed. The crowd erupted. I was beside myself, my heart swelled, I felt  so much joy and emotion. I was overwhelmed. To have had the chance to see this whole thing was incredible. We were soooo LUCKY. As people wondered we stayed to talk with one of the artists (he was the one that painted Igors painting he bought the previous day) he was a very young man, like they all were. He was such a lovely person, gentle, self-effacing, I felt very humble and very grateful for his gift. Jacqui and I are still blown away by the memory. I  certainly won't forget it.

I tried to post the videos I made of the performance but this program won't let me. It will only accept photos. So that will have to do. I will try  to upload the videos to facebook directly and you will have to find them there. Sorry.

Artworks in Battambang

There are times when you travel when kismet steps in and you get the most incredible experience, unsought, uplifting, unforgettable and totally life affeciting. This happened to Jacqui and I in Battembang. It started with a simple meeting of minds and ended with us both in raptures that we are still talking about 2 days later. On our third day in town we decided that we wanted to find a cafe that served coffee and cakes. A search of the books and the maps revealed the Cocoart cafe. We found it after a little walk, a very pleasant little establishment run by young people with some incredible paintings on the wall. They were all very good, all very different and some quite disturbing, evocative and full of pain. We met this Belgian man there (Igor) who had just bought a painting. It was a self portrait of the artist but in a very confronting way. He had painted it with the canvass (about 2m X 1.5m)  lying flat on the floor. He had used unconventional methods to create the image, flinging the paint onto the surface. Then he had stood it up and "let it bleed". The effect was dramatic. Anyway we got talking to Igor and the artist who invited us to the grand opening of a new gallery in town the next night at 6pm. That was the day we had planned to hire a bike and go 120Km north to a Khmer temple at Bantey Chammar. We promised that we would be back by 6pm for the opening.

The next morning bright and early we rode off to Bantey Chammar. It was one hell of a trek. Cambodian driving would have to be described as "creative" as there appeared to be no rhyme or reason to thier actions. We dodged and dived and ducked our way for 3 hours north. The final 30Km was on dirt, the last 5km peppered with deep potholes filled with the finest bulldust. Luckily I did not put the bike down although it came pretty close a couple of times. I got bogged in one hole that fit the entire bike, Jacqui having to bail out so I could drag the thing up and out of the hole. We made it to the temple a huge sprawling complex that renewed our tomb raider theme. There was virtually no one about, in fact we had to search out someone so that we could buy a ticket. Being honest and honourable folk we wanted to pay because we believed in supporting the upkeep. The temple itself is on the scale of Angkor Wat but it is almost totally pulled down by the surrounding trees and vegetation. I reckon it was built on the same lines as the Bayonne at Angkor Thom, the one with all the towers with faces on them as it had similar towers with faces. We clambered over the ruins for about 2 hours. It was even more spectacular than Beng Mealea several days before. We were completely alone and  made our way through by intuition and luck. We found amazing freezes on the walls depicting battles and daily life of the time and many armed gods with fantastic adornments. We finally made our way back to the bike and went to have lunch in the local village. The trip back to Battambang was quicker as I knew where a lot of the potholes were and we were familiar with the route. We were only nearly killed once when this bloody great truck did a U turn in front of us. Thank the gods for my experience, reflexes and good brakes as without them I would not be writing this now! We made good time getting home so were able to have a "Blueberry and coconut freeze" (a kind of shake that Jacqui and I love and crave) and a shower at our hotel before the opening.

Now comes the really good part. We rocked up to the gallery, which was next door to the place that sells the Blueberry and Coconut freeze called unsuprisingly "The Kitchen". We  met Igor and the Artist and walked into the gallery. Out the front was a life sized Water Buffalo made out of recycled tyres and inner tubes. It felt like buffalo skin and was very impressive. Inside was an array of paintings and installations that caught and challenged the imagination and the mind. Some were confronting and some were just "Wow"! There were a number of different styles and also mediums. There were projectors showing different and strange scenes of cambodian life as art and fortunately a lot of food to nibble on. Waitresses from The Kitchen wondered through dispensing a prodigious variety of cocktails some tasty some fruity and all alcoholic. There is a burgeoning art scene in Battambang and we had stepped bang smack into the middle of it thanks to Igor. We wondered through the rooms around a huge crowd of people enjoying the space and the atmosphere. Because they had so much going on the fuses kept blowing and the place would plunge into darkness every so often. This did not deter. At one stage we went down the road to another bar/resteraunt with a woman from Melbourne to have a drink and sit down. When we got back the "performance" had just got started. To explain.... we had stumbled onto (when we went to the Chocoart cafe) a group of amazing young artists who had been working together and supporting each other for a couple of years. The "performance" was thier collective work. The scene was set in the middle of an alley (street 1.5) out the front of the gallery. There was a very large blank canvass upright in the middle of the street. In front by a few metres were two "trees" in pots. At one side a man was standing on a small wooden step. He was naked except for underpants and completely covered in white paint. He stood there motionless. One of the artists came round from the back of the canvass and with a straw broom/brush he began to hit and brush the canvas with paint. His movements were full of energy and emotion. The effect was spellbinding. The artist finished his work and went behind the canvas. A second appeared and using the brush applied more colours. Another appeared who had very long hair. He proceeded to dip his hair into the paint and wip the canvas with it again with energy and emotion. By this time I am beside myself, it was so powerful! When he had finished his work and had gone behind the canvas the painted man began, slowly at first, with just a twitch to move. He walked to the painting and took up a position like a crucifix in front of the canvas. Two of the artists appeared with knotted hessian ropes that were quite thick and began to whip the canvas with these ropes dipped in paint, right beside the man painted white. The effect was extremely violent and intimidating. The white man began to push the men with ropes away violently from the canvas as if to protect it. Then a third artist appeared carrying a chain (about 2m long). He proceeded to beat the canvas after dipping the chain in paint. Again it was violent and intimidating and to me evocative of Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge period. He then wrapped the bloodied chain (it was red paint he used) around the body of the white painted man and dragged him to the ground. The red paint scouring his white body. The effect was electric! Then the light went out and the street plunged into darkness. Flaming torches were lit and the trees in front set on fire. This provided the light. The artists surrounding the hunched painted man on the floor. They appeared to go through an epiphany, realising that they had made a serious mistake. They seemed lost and bereft. One went behind the canvas and returned with some orange scarves. He gave each artist a scarf. They then stood the white painted man up. He was smeared with red from the chain. They lifted his arms to form the crucifix and wrapped the scarves around his body, his arms and his head. It was done in a gentle, caring and compassionate way, full of sad emotion. He responded in a forgiving way. They then stood together and bowed. The crowd erupted. I was beside myself, my heart swelled, I felt  so much joy and emotion. I was overwhelmed. To have had the chance to see this whole thing was incredible. We were soooo LUCKY. As people wondered we stayed to talk with one of the artists (he was the one that painted Igors painting he bought the previous day) he was a very young man, like they all were. He was such a lovely person, gentle, self-effacing, I felt very humble and very grateful for his gift. Jacqui and I are still blown away by the memory. I  certainly won't forget it.

I have purposely not attached any photos to this blog. The next blog hopefully will contain three videos that I hope will convey most of what happened. The whole performance took about 30 minutes so I could not hold up my tablet for the whole time. If the videos are too big for the blog to post, I will post them individually.

Artworks in Battambang

There are times when you travel when kismet steps in and you get the most incredible experience, unsought, uplifting, unforgettable and totally life affeciting. This happened to Jacqui and I in Battembang. It started with a simple meeting of minds and ended with us both in raptures that we are still talking about 2 days later. On our third day in town we decided that we wanted to find a cafe that served coffee and cakes. A search of the books and the maps revealed the Cocoart cafe. We found it after a little walk, a very pleasant little establishment run by young people with some incredible paintings on the wall. They were all very good, all very different and some quite disturbing, evocative and full of pain. We met this Belgian man there (Igor) who had just bought a painting. It was a self portrait of the artist but in a very confronting way. He had painted it with the canvass (about 2m X 1.5m)  lying flat on the floor. He had used unconventional methods to create the image, flinging the paint onto the surface. Then he had stood it up and "let it bleed". The effect was dramatic. Anyway we got talking to Igor and the artist who invited us to the grand opening of a new gallery in town the next night at 6pm. That was the day we had planned to hire a bike and go 120Km north to a Khmer temple at Bantey Chammar. We promised that we would be back by 6pm for the opening.

The next morning bright and early we rode off to Bantey Chammar. It was one hell of a trek. Cambodian driving would have to be described as "creative" as there appeared to be no rhyme or reason to thier actions. We dodged and dived and ducked our way for 3 hours north. The final 30Km was on dirt, the last 5km peppered with deep potholes filled with the finest bulldust. Luckily I did not put the bike down although it came pretty close a couple of times. I got bogged in one hole that fit the entire bike, Jacqui having to bail out so I could drag the thing up and out of the hole. We made it to the temple a huge sprawling complex that renewed our tomb raider theme. There was virtually no one about, in fact we had to search out someone so that we could buy a ticket. Being honest and honourable folk we wanted to pay because we believed in supporting the upkeep. The temple itself is on the scale of Angkor Wat but it is almost totally pulled down by the surrounding trees and vegetation. I reckon it was built on the same lines as the Bayonne at Angkor Thom, the one with all the towers with faces on them as it had similar towers with faces. We clambered over the ruins for about 2 hours. It was even more spectacular than Beng Mealea several days before. We were completely alone and  made our way through by intuition and luck. We found amazing freezes on the walls depicting battles and daily life of the time and many armed gods with fantastic adornments. We finally made our way back to the bike and went to have lunch in the local village. The trip back to Battambang was quicker as I knew where a lot of the potholes were and we were familiar with the route. We were only nearly killed once when this bloody great truck did a U turn in front of us. Thank the gods for my experience, reflexes and good brakes as without them I would not be writing this now! We made good time getting home so were able to have a "Blueberry and coconut freeze" (a kind of shake that Jacqui and I love and crave) and a shower at our hotel before the opening.

Now comes the really good part. We rocked up to the gallery, which was next door to the place that sells the Blueberry and Coconut freeze called unsuprisingly "The Kitchen". We  met Igor and the Artist and walked into the gallery. Out the front was a life sized Water Buffalo made out of recycled tyres and inner tubes. It felt like buffalo skin and was very impressive. Inside was an array of paintings and installations that caught and challenged the imagination and the mind. Some were confronting and some were just "Wow"! There were a number of different styles and also mediums. There were projectors showing different and strange scenes of cambodian life as art and fortunately a lot of food to nibble on. Waitresses from The Kitchen wondered through dispensing a prodigious variety of cocktails some tasty some fruity and all alcoholic. There is a burgeoning art scene in Battambang and we had stepped bang smack into the middle of it thanks to Igor. We wondered through the rooms around a huge crowd of people enjoying the space and the atmosphere. Because they had so much going on the fuses kept blowing and the place would plunge into darkness every so often. This did not deter. At one stage we went down the road to another bar/resteraunt with a woman from Melbourne to have a drink and sit down. When we got back the "performance" had just got started. To explain.... we had stumbled onto (when we went to the Chocoart cafe) a group of amazing young artists who had been working together and supporting each other for a couple of years. The "performance" was thier collective work. The scene was set in the middle of an alley (street 1.5) out the front of the gallery. There was a very large blank canvass upright in the middle of the street. In front by a few metres were two "trees" in pots. At one side a man was standing on a small wooden step. He was naked except for underpants and completely covered in white paint. He stood there motionless. One of the artists came round from the back of the canvass and with a straw broom/brush he began to hit and brush the canvas with paint. His movements were full of energy and emotion. The effect was spellbinding. The artist finished his work and went behind the canvas. A second appeared and using the brush applied more colours. Another appeared who had very long hair. He proceeded to dip his hair into the paint and wip the canvas with it again with energy and emotion. By this time I am beside myself, it was so powerful! When he had finished his work and had gone behind the canvas the painted man began, slowly at first, with just a twitch to move. He walked to the painting and took up a position like a crucifix in front of the canvas. Two of the artists appeared with knotted hessian ropes that were quite thick and began to whip the canvas with these ropes dipped in paint, right beside the man painted white. The effect was extremely violent and intimidating. The white man began to push the men with ropes away violently from the canvas as if to protect it. Then a third artist appeared carrying a chain (about 2m long). He proceeded to beat the canvas after dipping the chain in paint. Again it was violent and intimidating and to me evocative of Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge period. He then wrapped the bloodied chain (it was red paint he used) around the body of the white painted man and dragged him to the ground. The red paint scouring his white body. The effect was electric! Then the light went out and the street plunged into darkness. Flaming torches were lit and the trees in front set on fire. This provided the light. The artists surrounding the hunched painted man on the floor. They appeared to go through an epiphany, realising that they had made a serious mistake. They seemed lost and bereft. One went behind the canvas and returned with some orange scarves. He gave each artist a scarf. They then stood the white painted man up. He was smeared with red from the chain. They lifted his arms to form the crucifix and wrapped the scarves around his body, his arms and his head. It was done in a gentle, caring and compassionate way, full of sad emotion. He responded in a forgiving way. They then stood together and bowed. The crowd erupted. I was beside myself, my heart swelled, I felt  so much joy and emotion. I was overwhelmed. To have had the chance to see this whole thing was incredible. We were soooo LUCKY. As people wondered we stayed to talk with one of the artists (he was the one that painted Igors painting he bought the previous day) he was a very young man, like they all were. He was such a lovely person, gentle, self-effacing, I felt very humble and very grateful for his gift. Jacqui and I are still blown away by the memory. I  certainly won't forget it.

I have purposely not attached any photos to this blog. The next blog hopefully will contain three videos that I hope will convey most of what happened. The whole performance took about 30 minutes so I could not hold up my tablet for the whole time. If the videos are too big for the blog to post, I will post them individually.

Beng Mealea photos only

Eating Amok in Siem Reap

Well I'm here in Siem Reap. I arrived in the Arvo the day before yesterday. I caught up with Jacqui Elizabeth and we had a very pleasant afternoon near Pub Street in a cool (as in cold) place having iced drinks and cheesecake. Yum. We ate that night in my favorite Cambodian BBQ place. All you can eat for $5:00. You get to cook it for yourself on a charcoal stove with a special dish on top. It was lovely. The next day we lazed around the place. I needed a sd card for my new "Action Camera" ( Thank you so much Cat). I also needed a sim card for my phone and we both wanted needle and thread. We finished our wonders back in the same cool place as the day before. As you may have worked out Siem Reap is very very hot and very very humid. So far my hotel rooms have both only had fan rooms.... no AC. So I crave places with air con. You could cut the heat and the humidity with a knife here. It sucks your energy. I reckon I have lost weight just through sweating! We ate that night at a swish place just near our hotel. I had Amok fish. It was exquisite. The fish was steamed in Banana leaf with a sauce of coconut milk, coriander and kaffir lime. Fantastic.

Today Jacqui E. and I went to 2 temple complexes some 150km from Siem Reap and Angkor. One was Kol Ker (pronounced Kol Kyee) it was built between 928AD  and 944AD. I am not sure of the builders name but it was the capital of the Khmer Empire for that time. It was a huge city with a footprint  9km by 4Km. In this area there are 42  major structures. We saw about half a dozen and they were all very interesting. Each structure  had something to say. Whether it was the enormous linghams to be found in several towers or the amalgam of stone building blocks and those impossible brick towers that the Chams were famous for. The biggest temple we saw was Prasat Krahom. It was very big with lots of ruined walls and buildings but the most impressive thing was the enormous pyramid at the back of the complex. It was a huge 7 tiered thing that brought to mind the Mayan temples in Mexico! It sat by it's self in an area devoid of trees. I spent quite a bit of time just absorbing the view and the atmosphere. Splendid. On our way out we stopped at several towers that housed these enormous lingas, the phallic symbol which is a representation of the god Shiva. Each time we stopped we were passed by this rather nice herd of cattle. It was lovely to hear the sounds of thier bells as they sauntered along the track. It was quite musical and added to the eastern mystery. I was grateful to see all the mine clearing signs. I could imagine it very difficult with a herd of cattle without them.

The second place we went to was called Beng Mealea. It was a single structure built in the 12th century by Suryavarman II. The structure is the same as Angkor Wat but you wouldn't know just by looking because the whole thing is swamped by the jungle or should I say surrounding vegitation as it is more open forest than jungle. I don't know why Angelina Jolie ponced around with the area around Angkor Wat and Angkor Thom because Beng Mealea is the ultimate in tomb raider times. It is a huge hodge podge of partially and fully ruined buildings. You walk over the top of everything on a walkway occasionally dipping into a shadowy corridor or passing through an enormous lintel. We spent 2 hours clambering and climbing. It was really fantastic. There were far more tourists here as we were closer to Siem Reap. There was no one at Kol Ker! When you consider that this place was the same size as Angkor Wat you can understand why we took 2 hours just to get the first view. I'll be back.

I took copious amounts of photos not all of which I will post here, there are too many! I will post the ones from Kol Ker on this blog and then the ones from Beng Mealea on a second blog.

Jacqui and I have resolved our travel plans. On Monday we will go to Battembong for about 3-4 days. We will hire a bike there and go north to another Khmer ruin complex up on the Thai border. Then we will get a bus to Phenom Penh. There we will hire a bigger dirt bike and do a big loop of the south. We will go through the Cardomoms to the coast. We will then go along the coast to Rabbit Island and then back to PP. I plan to do cooking lessons in Kampot and I want to eat crab in KepJacqui goes on to Indonesia and I have to decide whether to go back to Vietnam or come home. I will leave that decision to then. See youse campers