DAY 5 THE KULEN MOUNTAINS

I rise early from my slumbers to check yesterday's footie scores. My boys are clearly not missing me as they continue their recent run of good form with a 2-0 win against Palace. An extra spring in my step as I join the others for brekkie. I note that Bob is already in Reception touting for business. We had been advised that once you link up with a tuk-tuk driver they tend to assume that they've tied you up for your entire stay and Bob takes some persuading that we will not require his services today.

We have agreed a price with Thierry for the hire of an MPV and chauffeur to take us to the Kulen Mountains where King Jayavarman II established his capital around 800AD. Our journey takes us beyond the city into the countryside outside Siem Reap. We drive through many villages populated by rural folk living in their elevated shacks (to avoid the winter flooding); families who live side by side with their poultry and cattle. This is subsistence living, pre-industrial, almost medieval but for some concessions to the modern age - mobile phones, replica branded clothing, cigarettes, the occasional motorbike.

About an hour in we leave the main road and hit a dirt track. The road ahead has been washed away by the recent flooding and there doesn't seem to be a way through. The driver stops to have a word with the soldiers at the side of the road who seem to indicate that they are there to help should we get stuck. Most westerners would wimp out at this point, but the Cambodians have a 'can do' approach to life and we sense they don't want to let us down. After another hour of being flung around in the van and many more 'he's never going to......he has!' moments we make it to Kulen Village just in time - apparently the rule is that vehicles can only climb the single track road before mid-day. After that, it's downhill only! We are met by a gaggle of excitable schoolchildren calling out 'One dollar, shoes mister, one dollar'. Thierry explains that the kids will look after our shoes for one dollar when we enter the Buddhist shrine at the top of the hill. Either you find this irritating or you admire their enterprise. They're nice kids and I incline towards the latter.

We walk up the cobbled stone hill lined with stalls selling trinkets, tat, Buddhas and food. We pass broken beggars with outstretched hands, one-legged war veterans, possibly landmine victims.










 We reach the shrine and hand our shoes over to the kids who have great fun playing with T's hat and glasses.

The kids wave up at us as we look down from the shrine of a Buddha carved into the rock. We return, collect our shoes and hand over our dollars. Smiles all round.

On the way back I take a few pictures of one of the beggars, a dignified, well-presented man in his 50's and give him a dollar for his time. I'm uneasy at the transaction. At worst I am exploiting him, at best I'm helping him to get by.

We begin the descent, stopping off at the waterfalls where I almost come unstuck walking through the river in search of a winning shot.

We complete the long tortuous descent in our by now battered van ('You know the nearer your destination the more you're slip sliding away...'  Paul Simon) and stop for lunch at a large warehouse selling the most ornate, exquisitely carved furniture that has a cafe drawing in the crowds. It's a popular stopping off point and we suspect that Thierry and his fellow guides are being rewarded for safely delivering us tourists as they tuck into their free lunches. A surprisingly articulate young Cambodian comes over to discuss the merits of a guide book he's hoping to sell. Usually these fellas are not armed with sufficient language to put up much of a fight when you spurn their advances but this one voices incredulity that I might not be interested in his book that he is selling for 'one dollar' when the cover price is $27.95. I agree that it is a quality product and realising I'm losing the argument and keen to tuck into my grub I reach for my wallet and pull out a dollar. 'No, no eleven dollar!' By now I've convinced myself I want the book and we agree on $10. I wonder what the Khmer is for 'stitched up like a kipper'.

We move on to Bantei Srei, a temple in a peaceful isolated setting containing some remarkable decorative carving in pink sandstone and dedicated to the Hindu god Shiva.

On our way back to the van T is offered the same guide book for a dollar. 'I'm going to buy it!' he announces gleefully. I'm not best pleased, casting some doubt on his parentage. No surprise, it turns out to be the same scam but he does manage to claim victory by agreeing $9. Nevertheless, two foreign mugs for the price of one. Although it is a good read...

We drive on to Phnom Krom, a bustling riverside village to climb the steps to the temple. As we climb to the summit we can see the extent of the recent flooding.

The grey skies part and we witness a spectacular sunset much to Thierry's delight 'I bring you sunset, look!'

Before going back to the hostel Thierry insists that we must visit a special restaurant where the dancing girls the Apsara are performing! We're too tired to argue and anyway by now we have full confidence in Thierry's judgement. Disappointingly it turns out to be a magnet for coach party tourism; overpriced all-you-can-eat stodge in a vast arena. We spot Thierry and the boys tucking into another meal but we're not resentful, the boy deserves it. We're leaving for Battambang tomorrow so it's time to say goodbye to Thierry who has provided some great experiences that will remain with us. It's a surprisingly moving farewell as he thanks us again for taking the time to visit his country and 'helping so many people'. It's all quite humbling.