Words and Photos by Jan Michellardi
Perfect reading spot, outside Angkor Wat
It began early morning.
I have this belief that most memorable trips always begin early in the morning—when it is still dark and cold and there are not many people (or people you know) out in the street to see you go away. It’s the perfect getaway time. Nobody knows and the world is silent.
We were in Bangkok. In Rambuttri Road, a corner away from the famed Khao San, waiting for a taxi to take us to the bus station.
We were headed to Cambodia.
It was a last minute decision. We were supposed to be heading to Laos but due to time constraints, we balked and chose the kingdom of wonder instead.
Outside Angkor Thom
The Thai taxi driver was asking for my number. Mr. Paipoon, in his broken English, was asking me for my number, even letting me speak to whom I thought was his sister. She speaks good English; I pretend not to understand. Note to self: never sit in the passenger seat of foreign taxis ever again. My friends snicker at the back and they tease me in our native tongue. Morchit 2 bus station—we are here. No numbers were given. It was time to board the bus.
It was a long road journey. Four and a half hours from Bangkok to the border town of Aranyaprathet, a short tuktuk ride to the immigration and finally, finally, my feet touch different soil. Welcome to the Kingdom of Cambodia, the arch said.
We met our taxi driver and we began another road trip. Two hours with nothing but the view of barren and red-soiled Cambodia flashing quickly through the Camry’s window while Mariah Carey’s tunes blast from the speakers. Then suddenly, the town of Siem Reap sneaks in like an oasis. After seeing nothing but dry land, five-star hotels emerge like a mirage. It is sparkling, it is beautiful and it is touristy. We gaze in awe. Welcome to Siem Reap.
We only had a few hours in Cambodia—a few precious hours to make the most out of this once-forsaken country. So we began.
Red. Sunset atop Phnom Bakheng
The clock read 4:32 PM and we are aboard a tuk tuk, zipping through smooth pavements. We were on our way to the city of Angkor specifically, to the temple ruin of Phnom Bakheng to catch the sunset. The view of the lush jungle blurs and, like everything in Cambodia, the lake that surrounds the famed Angkor Wat slips into our vision, a welcome surprise. It was bathed in the light of the golden hour and it was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. We do not blink; we just stare.
Treelined roads of Angkor Thom
Angkor Wat, east wing, the path leading to the jungle
There is a short hike up a hill, a steep climb up the temple ruin’s steps and alas, a 360 view of Angkor and its surrounding areas greets your eyes. It was January and Cambodia was filled with tourists all huddled in corners and steps, cameras in hand, waiting, eagerly waiting for the sun to set.
And then it happened and all we saw was orange an orange sky and a red sun and all we felt was magic.
It was getting dark—it’s time to hike back down.
My teeth are chattering; it’s cold. Cambodia is still cloaked in a sleepy darkness. It’s around five in the morning and we are on our way to the famed religious monument. There are food stalls in the parking area and we are hungry but we disregarded our stomach’s desires and made our way to the temple. Flashlights are the only sources of light but look up and you see a million stars littered in the early morning sky, adding mystique to an already mystical experience.
Again, we wait, coffee mugs in hand, this time, for the sun to rise.
Angkor Wat, dawn
And when it did, Angkor Wat and its majesty presented itself to the throngs of tourists and travelers sitting near the lake. It is beautiful. This is the reason we were here. A dream destination is a dream no more. It was there, it’s still there and we’ve explored every inch of it (plus that of Angkor Thom, effectively getting lost in Tomb Raider heaven). Finally, another place scratched off the bucket list.
9:00am, morning monks (Angkor Wat, west wing) 
Watercolor artist, Bayon temple
There is a market near our hostel. Dear travelers, always go to local markets. It is where you meet interesting locals, eat delicacies and shop—of course we did all three. There was a slew of cheap Lonely Planets on a woman’s store. A friend of mine flipped through one before moving on to another stall until there was shouting. The woman is calling my friend, and I quote, “you crazy!” for not buying the book. She was seething and we were shocked, trying not to laugh. The locals were staring. Let’s get out of here.
And out of that market we went and out of the country did. It was time to go back to Thailand. The white Camry was waiting, Mariah Carey was waiting. The clock read 3:00 PM—twenty-seven hours, I counted. For some, this was not enough time to see all the wonders this country had to offer. True, but we’ve pocketed enough moments to last us a lifetime.
Magic. Cambodia, you are not only magical, you are magic.
