My time in Siem Reap was a real treat; the temples of Angkor Wat were quite simply astonishing, both in their design and architecture as well as the very fact that so much had survived; a testament I think to the sheer engineering genius of the time. It wouldn't be out of place to suggest, in terms of structural ingenuity and ambition (and considering the technology available, or lack thereof), that the city of Angkor stands up on its own two feet against any other cityscape I have seen before in modern day times.
It had been an inspirational few days but it was time to shift gear again and move further south, snaking my way down the country through a combination of boat and then bus.The 'book' suggested a 5 hour boat ride and one that was regularly coined in tourist literature as being spectacular; hitherto I hadn't taken a boat trip for the sake of indulgence, so I was looking forward to some beautiful rural scenery and of course the inherent and abundant opportunity for photography.
It was an early start, something which typically leaves me restless and sleepless the night before. Getting up early isn't something I was born to do. Fact, Nevertheless I was up and ready at 6am and picked up by the boat company on time and in a small mini bus. There were only two other travelers on the bus, so I had a choice of seating and felt now I could relax for the thirty minutes until we arrived to the pier. This assumption was soon to be proven wrong and lets say upon reflection a little naive. The boat company, it would seem, had sold out for this particular boat trip and as the bus began to fill up to its full capacity I was beginning to wonder whether I'd soon be asked to get out the bus and sit on the roof. Hotel after hotel, after hotel, after hotel, it became self evident that the boat company had made the unfortunate mistake of confusing the small 15 seater mini bus with Dr. Who's Tardis. As the clock turned 6.45am, we were now at 50% plus capacity, with a travelling representative from each member of the European Union safely on board, and on each others laps, the newly anointed EU bus slowly made its way along the dilapidated riverbank towards its final destination.
The tight squeeze on the bus should have been forewarning and an accurate precursor as to what to expect on the boat; as we arrived, through the crowd of young girls selling bread and bananas, I noticed a few boats at the pier, none of which could have been mine as they were at full compliment already. Besides, the picture on the ticket was of a modern boat that ticked the all important safety box. The boats I had in front of me, aside from being made entirely of old wood, were swaying from side to side from the already burgeoning group of sunburnt clientele. As I approached the pier I could hear a French guy from my bus arguing with a young kid of about 16 yrs, (well it was more a case of stating the plain obvious than an actual two way argument as the kid didn't speak any English). "This boat is already full"..."there is no room, look!" was all I needed to hear from him to know I was potentially looking at another tight squeeze.
There were no seats left. None. There was also very little room to even sit down. Bearing in mind this boat trip was promoted as being 5 hrs in duration, the prospect of standing up or sitting on someone's lap for that entire duration, irrespective of how spectacular the scenery was, didn't fill me with too much joy. The only space left on the boat was right at the front, up on the bow and so it was where I made camp and turned my attention to food provisions. I had 6 thumb sized bananas, a bottle of water and some local currency to buy some snacks at any stop along the way; I was confident this was enough for 5 hours as the boat released its mooring and we began to weave our way into the delta river maze.
The boat ride turned out to be just as promoted, spectacular; watery green scenery and delta fauna for as far as the eye could see; the peace and quiet being broken only every now and then when we came across small villages dotted long the banks of the river. Makeshift houses of all shapes and colors propped up on wooden stilts, women invariably washing clothes in the river, children waving and paddling in small canoe shaped vessels, teenagers listening to stereos or watching DVD's on their boats, others taking advantage of boat antennas and watching TV, men drawing in their fishing nets from their boats, all manner of interesting sights as the boat continued to churn its way through the river past lives that were a world away from my own.
We made a short stop along the way for food provisions and it was a nice opportunity to stop moving and take time to visually consume the very make up of my immediate surroundings. It was amazing how these people had constructed their lives around the river; it was what shaped them, their lifestyle and their livelihoods. The river was their life force, a provider of food, work and transport; it was the blood running through their veins and for me offered a unique insight into our instinct and ability as humans to adapt and survive. It's an innate condition in every one of us, the need, desire and will to survive regardless of our surroundings. Something we often forget or rather aren't forced to confront, whilst cosied up in front of the television thinking about plans for the weekend when back home. Most remarkable of all and surely indicative of the essence of real human contentment was the abundance of happy smiling faces. These people seemed very happy and at every opportunity offered genuine waves and welcomes, particularly the young children and babies who were thronged all the way along the banks of each village that we encountered. A brief passing through simply wasn't enough for me and the transient nature of my photographic encounters left me with a lingering feeling of needing to know more.
As 5 hours on board fast approached, I enquired as to our estimated time of arrival (I did this by tapping the wrist and looking with an inquisitive face, something I'd mastered from various attempts in Thailand and Laos). It would seem another 2 to 3 hours was on the cards, but by this stage I was well settled at the front of the boat and despite the unforgiving nature of hard wooden slats, I'd managed to find that all important comfortable position. The suns rays were now beginning to hit hard but were offset with the breeze crossing the boat as we continued on our journey. In parts the passage way through the river delta was extremely narrow and left us at times having to take shelter as the boat careered into the thick trees and bushes standing above the waterline. We'd often have to let other boats pass by, leaving behind them a meshed trail of wooden debris as their lagging long tail propellers scythed their way through the water foliage and propelled their residents down the waterway.
As we approached Battembang I was unfortunately somewhat sun burnt but extremely happy I'd made the trip; I'd captured some beautiful photographic portraits and managed to last on a mixture of bananas, water, a few local pastries and good old fresh air.
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