#fridayfaces – child beggars in Cambodia

I always struggle with how to deal with beggars when I travel – how can I help, am I making the problem worse? There were no easy answers when I was approached by this young beggar at Angkor Wat.

girl begging, Angkor Wat, Cambodia, 2006
girl begging, Angkor Wat, Cambodia, 2006

Photos of the faces of people I come across in my travels take me right back to that time and place.

#friday faces on Tonle Sap, Cambodia

After the heat of the ruins of Angkor Wat, it was a nice change to spend the afternoon out on nearby Tonle Sap, at the floating village. The kids of the floating village could certainly steer their tin tubs like a real boat and turn on the charm for the tourists.

boy, floating village, Tonle Sap, Cambodia
boy, floating village, Tonle Sap, Cambodia

The photos that make the most impact on me when I travel are the faces of people I come across in my travels.


#fridayfaces – hoi an, vietnam

The photos that make the most impact on me, that I remember the most, and which I enjoy taking the most when I travel, are the faces of people I come across in my travels. There is nothing like a unique expression to take me right back to that place, that time.

Hoi An woman, Vietnam 2005
Hoi An woman, Vietnam 2005

So I am starting my #fridayfaces series of photos today with this memorable woman in Hoi An, Vietnam, in 2005. It’s New Year’s day, and I have had a big New Year’s Eve, I am now suffering for it and have been sitting at a cafe for a good couple of hours, not really wanting to move, watching the world go by.

Marrakech – seventeen years between tagines

Marrakech first seduced me when I visited in 1988. So it might seem surprising it took me over seventeen years to get there a second time – what can I say, so many countries, so little time! And it just confirmed to me all over again, how much Marrakech enchants me. So what makes it so special

The colour pink.

How can you not love a city where all buildings are required to be an acceptable shade of pink. A dusky pink that mirrors the earth it is built on, the sand that blows through it. A shade of weathered pink that I imagine has survived hundreds of years, many sandstorms and a good few camel trains. In 1988 there was a lot more dust coating the average pink dwelling, by 2005 there is clearly a lot more renovation and repainting going on, but both create a feeling of being in a different time and place, a romantic vision of old explorers.

The food ( and drink )

Tagines – both the classic cone shaped lid and casserole, and the delicious melt in the mouth meat (or vege these days) stews with mouth watering spices, perhaps some softened dried apricots, soaked up with a good couscous. In 1988 I bought a solid terra-cotta glazed pottery tagine and have lugged it around every country I have lived in since, still using it regularly every winter.

BBQ’d garlic snails – this may not be the food most people associate with Marrakech, but it is for me. It’s partly the French influence – it also means the coffee is great and there are surprisingly good croissants and pastries. Like many towns, the night markets in Marrakech have all sorts of interesting food stalls.

I remember watching snails being grilled in their shells, and being dared by one of my fellow travelers to try one. Bear in mind this was a guy from England who had strong views on food – he would only eat meat and potatoes, no other veggies, and hated any herbs or spices, only salt – he wouldn’t even add tomato sauce. I certainly wasn’t going to let him win a food bet. The stall owner showed me how to fork the snail out of it shell, dripping in garlic butter, and savor it as it slid down my throat. Not expecting to like it, I found myself demolishing a dozen and coming back again the next night.

Oranges, dates, apricots and pistachios. Morocco is a fruit bowl slightly at odds with it’s reputation as a dessert destination, but I guess that where the oasis’ come in. The selection is much wider than I have mentioned but suffice to say, I have never taster sweeter dried apricots or dates, more delicious fresh orange juice or more moreish pistachios before or since. My mouth is watering just remembering that five years later.

The Souks of the Medina

You may have figured by now that I love a good market, and the souk in the walled old town in Marrakech is a good one indeed. It’s a maze of crooked alleys lined by stalls, occasionally opening onto a small square open to the sun, before you dive back into the covered alleyways again. The range of things to buy is endless, embracing tradition and more modern interpretations, and yet stays definitively Moroccan. It rarely falls into the generic “backpackers market craft” that turns up in so many markets around the world.

There are literal aladdin’s caves of bright multicolored and bejeweled pottery, while another stall is all minimalist pottery designs available only in bright red. There are traditional carved and punched leather belts and buckles, and studded punk inspired versions. There are stalls selling centuries old (dodgy) medicinal remedies along with chameleons and scorpions and bugs I don’t want to identify, and there are stalls of organic soaps and lotions worthy of any five star spa.

There are still donkeys carting in the market supplies, but vastly outnumbered by mobile phones for communication with suppliers, and credit cards are readily accepted.

On this trip I buy two kilims, strongly colored in the reds and blues of the land and sky, woven in intricate traditional patterns. Although new, they smell strongly of old dust and camel piss, a marketing trick I suspect, to make the whole buying prices strangely more evocative. Sealed tightly in thick plastic bags for the rest of my trip, to try and avoid stinking out my bag and clothes, I have to hang them in the sun for a week and then leave them on the garage floor for six months when I get home, before they can be safely brought inside. I think they look fantastic in my hallway.


The Djemaa el Fna

The famous central square of the old walled city is no square, it’s a huge crazy zigzagged open space, surrounded by buildings with great rooftop vantage points, usually on the third floor, many cafes, and the start of dozens of alleyways into the souks which surround three sides of the Djemaa el Fna. The open space fills up with stalls no more than a blanket on the ground and food stalls with tables and chairs to accommodate the local families who congregate every evening. Rows of juice stands are all arguing that their wares are the best, and for the tourists there are snake charmers and watch salesmen in equal quantities.

Every night the square is full of locals promenading, it’s like Edwardian England crossed with Arabian nights, it’s fantastic people watching. It’s a delicious and very cheap place to eat a wonderfully fresh dinner, and of course it’s where I originally experimented with snails.


The Riads and the people.

Accommodation options were a lot more limited in 1988, although given that usually we were sleeping in bunks in a double decker bus, the plain square room with a roof terrace overlooking the markets was a real luxury back then.

But now the old city is brimming with restored riads, the traditional housing, often three stories high around a central courtyard, which might hold a fountain or even a pool, and a roof terrace with billowing fabric overhead to give shade while lounging on the day beds. Most have been painstakingly restored, with beautiful mosaics of tiles, wrought iron and plush fabrics. They are some of the most glorious B& B’s I have found anywhere, and there is wide price range for just about any budget. And they are found in all the hidden lanes of the souk, but are cool and quiet as soon as you close the door to the street.

There are no vehicles in the medina, so your riad will send someone to meet your taxi at the medina gate, and wheel your bags through the medina to their front door, which gives you instant immersion into the culture. Don’t even think about staying in a hotel outside the walls of the old city, get online and book yourself a riad and ensure a unique and relaxing experience.

And as true here as anywhere, what ultimately makes the experience for me is the people. The Moroccans I encounter are friendly, shy, intriguing, hospitable,enthusiastic, and charming, and they make Marrakech great.

Return to the temples of Angkor Thom

Being surrounded by mysterious carved serene faces, scrambling through temple ruins held together by massive old tree roots, these are my favourite memories of my previous visit to Cambodian temples.

Sure, Angkor Wat is deservedly the star attraction, but it is the charm of the smaller temples in Angkor Thom that I am looking forward to experiencing again five years later.

The mysterious carved stone heads of the Bayon

Imagine being surrounded by 216 large carved stone heads, all smiling mysteriously, each one subtly different – that is the charm of the Bayon.

Depending on who you ask, the heads are images of the Buddhist god Avalokiteshara, or maybe they are King Jayavarman VII., the ruler who presided over the building of much of Angkor’s grandeur. Either way, they have a killer smile.

the Bayan 2005
the Bayan 2005

This is how I saw them the first time. The Bayon hides its treasures well. On first approach it looks a bit nondescript, a rough pyramid of three tiers of big blocks of stone. And suddenly, when I’m in amongst it, I see the bas relief carvings depicting scenes of battles, daily life and even a circus, on the first tier.  I scramble up very steep stone stairs to the third tier, and find myself staring at these intriguing heads with their hint of a smile –  they face north, south, east and west, from 54 stone towers. The light catches different faces at different times of the day, I recommend going at sunrise, in the early morning light, while the crowds are still at Angkor Wat.

Ta Prohm – held together by the tree roots.

My other favourite temple is Ta Prohm, a photographers dream.  It’s not exactly off the beaten track, but the sight of crumbling walls intertwined with massive curling tree roots is spectacular. It’s also very accessible, with walkways to guide the visitors around, and to give everyone a turn to see the best corners. It can be a challenge of patience to frame up a camera shot and then wait, and wait, for that split second when there is a gap in the crowds to steal that shot through, but it’s surely worth the effort.

Five years ago I remember there being one pathway through the middle, and lots of unrestored areas off to both sides, some marked as out of bounds but now I notice a marked difference. There is an extensive network of wooden boardwalks circling through the site, this takes away any pretence that we are hard core explorers, but it also handles the volume of visitors better. I see one wall which has completely collapsed in the last five years, leaving the tree looking ready to topple over itself, which reinforces just how hard it is to balance keeping Ta Prohm in its popular “state of disrepair”, without it either collapsing completely under the weight of tourist numbers, or being renovated into a disney version of what it once was.
Do you have a favourite story or picture of the Bayon or Ta Prohm to share, did you visit many years ago and get to see a much less restored version?

Return to the Temples of Angkor Wat

I get off the plane at Siem Reap at 7am into a wall of heat, and a wall of paper-pushers (literally). In a charming homage to colonial bureaucrats everywhere, the process to get a visa on arrival in Cambodia goes like this:  I hand over my visa form and cash, walk twenty metres to the other end of the long desk, and watch a row of nine uniformed officials – the first one stamps my passport and then tosses it nonchalantly to the person to his left, and so it continues, from hand to hand, person to person, flying freely through the air, via all nine people, and then passed back to me.

I am impressed by such a successful job creation scheme, and the great hand-eye co-ordination they have all achieved. It’s good to see they are taking me seriously now. When I visited five years ago,  I was greeted by a mere one immigration official.

Angkor Wat, Cambodia, 2005
Angkor Wat, Cambodia, 2005

Siem Reap – has it changed in five years?

Fast forward 4 hours and I am feeling the heat. Five years ago I was here in January, the coolest month, which I thought was very pleasant at up to 30 degrees during the day and cooler overnight. Now its 35 degrees during the day with about 98% humidity, and virtually the same at night,  except I can at least avoid the intense burning of direct sunlight then.

After exploring the town on foot I am melting with every step, so I retire to the pool and order an iced lime tea and settle in the shade. I have an added excuse, my friends aren’t arriving til early afternoon so I may as well hang around the pool and wait. Initially I thought that Siem Reap hadn’t really changed in the last five years,  in many ways it looks exactly the same, but the more I wander around the more I notice the differences. It’s like all the original bars, shops and hotels are still here, but then has been a lot of new ones added and they are all much more upmarket. There are also dozens of ATM’s, last time there was one, which generally didn’t work.

And perhaps the most noticeable change is the one I feel most conflicted about. Last time I was here, there were a huge number of beggars, mainly limbless people or really young child beggars who would grab onto your leg and hang on desperately as you walked by. On our arrival that time, we decided we would give money to every limbless beggar we saw, as their need seems so obvious and genuine. After giving to about ten in the first block from our room, we realised how unrealistic our plan was, and how overwhelming the need here really was.  Now, there are very few beggars on the street. I would like to think that the general increase in wealth and well being here has led to more orphanages and help for the needy in general, but I have a horrible feeling that it just means the government have moved them on to somewhere else, so that they don’t upset the tourists.

When Travellers J & K arrive we choose to take to the pool for the afternoon to plan the next few days. We head out late afternoon to go and catch the sunset at Angkor Wat. The passes for the temples are sold by no. of days, and the neat trick is that if you arrive at the office to buy your pass after 5pm, you get that evening for free and then get the next full three days as well.

Angkor Wat, Cambodia, 2005
Angkor Wat, Cambodia, 2005

Sunset at Angkor Wat, Cambodia.

Sunset at Angkor Wat is not going to be a bright red sky, as the sun is actually behind you, but it means the temples glow softly in the lovely evening light, so much better than the harsh light in the middle of the day. There are two large pools, man made ponds, in front of Angkor Wat, and the classic photo to get is a picture with the temple reflected in the pool.

The better photo is the one from the right hand pool. Unfortunately it has no water in it this time, so the left hand side it is, although somehow the angles just aren’t as good here. It’s also a great time to walk through the levels of the temple as most people have left already. We do a random wander until the guards chase us out. The only level not open at this time of the day is the very top (third) level.

Last time I was here I did the sunset from Phnom Bakheng but its definitely something I would only do once. It was so crowded, everyone elbowing for room, and the only nice part of the view was seeing a tiny looking Angkor Wat surrounded by jungle, in a pinkish evening glow. Its something you need to experience for yourself, but I doubt it is anyone’s highlight of their visit.

Angkor Wat, Cambodia, 2010
Angkor Wat, Cambodia, 2010

Sunrise at Angkor Wat, Cambodia.

We return to Angkor Wat again before sunrise the next morning, travelling by tuk tuk (a 5am start). I find an unexpected advantage of the tuk tuk is that as it moves it creates a breeze through the open sides, which helps to slightly cut through the clingy heat – it can be more effective than the air con in a car, although rather less comfortable for a long trip. It’s another pretty but pale pastel sunrise.

Dawn is a great time to visit Angkor Wat. Although a lot of people arrive for sunrise, most head back to their hotels for breakfast without venturing into the temples themselves, and then come back later in the day, so this is relatively uncrowded in between. Instead of stopping for breakfast we grabbed pastries from one of the bakeries in town the night before, and of course plenty of water.

The temple is a huge pyramid structure, the largest religious structure in the world, if you measure it from the large moat surrounding it, which is full of water and is 1.5km by 1.3km in size. When I walked through the first gate on my first visit, I thought I was entering straight into temple buildings but I quickly realised that I was in a vast walled field surrounding the temple, with a long causeway  to the temple structure and the two large ponds on either side. The temple is a complex of terraces rising in three stories, topped by five domed towers.

Angkor Wat, Cambodia, 2010
Angkor Wat, Cambodia, 2010

Most of the structure is covered with bands of finely carved stone sculptures and bas relief carvings of exceptional detail. We explore the lower tier, following the bas relief that circumnavigates the walls of the corridor that encloses this whole level, telling Hindu fables of Vishnu is amazing detail and beauty. Once the 2nd tier opens at 7am we progress around that level, and rest in a shaded corner until tier 3 opens at 8am (we have already drunk and sweated out at least a litre of water by then).

Tier 3 is still an active temple, which is why it has more restricted hours, and has a dress code, one that in my heat exhaustion I almost mess up. I remember to bring trousers to put over my shorts, but forget that I am wearing a sleeveless top, however a bit of stretching quickly turns it into a wide necked, cap sleeved top and I pass the inspection.

The stairs up to the top level are the steepest in the complex. I remember five years ago climbing up the old narrow stone steps almost like a ladder, and feeling extreme vertigo when having to climb back down them in a large crowd of people all moving at different speeds. Now all the sets of original stairs are locked off, and a new set of robust wooden stairs has been built in one corner, floating over and protecting the original staircase, while actually accommodating feet longer than 4 inches in length. I feel both relieved and disappointed that I don’t get to experience the fear and excitement of the more dangerous originals this time. Its now 8.30 am and we are ready to move around the inner circuit of other temples.