Angkor Wat, Artisans d’Angkor, and Banteay Srei What an amazing morning we experienced! Our day began very early, with a departure from the hotel of 5:15am. Our goal: To arrive to the iconic Angkor Wat before sunrise. We drove to the famous temple whose name means “City Temple,” arriving to the moat and causeway in the dark. After navigating the old stonework bridge and steps of the walls and gates, we settled onto the inside walls of the outer structure. It was full dark, but the sky slowly began to lighten as dawn approached. Eventually, light pinks and oranges filled the void behind the great Wat and the sun came over the trees a bit before 7:00am. It was beautiful to watch the great monument to the Khmer empire become more and more visible in the growing light. We walked around the inner walls of the Angkor complex, making our way to the eastern side for morning sun. Along the way, rhesus macaques stole our attention (and attempted to steal our morning snacks!) with their comical mannerisms. Once we entered Angkor Wat itself, we explored the many long corridors, with walls completely covered in carvings depicting stories of Hindu theology. Many of us climbed all the way to the top section of the Wat, which overlooked the whole of the great structure. We returned to the hotel for a break, enjoying time to relax or shop in the Old Market near the hotel. We resumed our explorations in the early afternoon, beginning in town at the Artisans d’Angkor. Employing local people, some of whom suffer from disabilities, the workshops here produce many of the traditional handicrafts of Cambodia, such as woodcarvings, stone carvings, silver work, and lacquer painting. More than a few of our party also visited the gallery attached, adding to the collections of wonderful treasure acquired here. On our journey to our afternoon temple visit, which was farther afield, we drove through the rural landscape and many small villages. This intimate glimpse into the lives of many of the people in this country was wonderful. We saw a great deal of traditional architecture, rice paddies, the production of palm sugar, and many Cambodian people enjoying a peaceful afternoon. Our last stop of the day, and our last stop in the Angkor complex was the beautiful temple, Banteay Srei. Known for its pink sandstone and intricate carvings, this is one of the most unusual temples in the area. Its beauty is renowned and many visitors count it as their favorite Angkor locale. We wandered through in the late afternoon light, enjoying the pinks and light oranges of the stone. After returning once again to the hotel to freshen up, we made our way to AHA Restaurant, in downtown Siem Reap. We enjoyed a lovely, contemporary meal, served with beautiful preparation and a great deal of care. Tomorrow, we conclude our adventure in Siem Reap, and begin our travels down the Mekong River.
Cai Be, Mekong River Delta, Vietnam Hats off to those of us aboard the Jahan who were disciplined enough to start their day with a Tai chi session at the crack of dawn. After breakfast, we mingled around getting to know others on the ship, checking out the books in the library, or spending a few moments connecting with home via email and the internet. By 9am, home and the outside world were forgotten with the first boat ride of the day. We rode on two motorboats, 25 aboard each, to discover the Mekong and its small canals, gliding among the ever-present water hyacinths—serving both as a way to stop soil erosion, and a trap that attract fish for the ready fishermen. A while later we found ourselves in the town of Cai Be, amidst one of the many floating markets in the delta. You could begin to understand the gregarious and outgoing nature of the local people: there were plenty of (water)ways for them to travel from their small villages or their small islands outward, to meet others, learn new things. “The big boats are like a home,” one of our guides had explained. “The small boat is like a car.” The small boats brought stacks and stacks of fruits and vegetables—mango, watermelon, tapioca, longan—and offer them to the big boats that are moored and ready to sell the harvests. One looks to the top of a pole pointing skyward. Whatever is on the pole, that’s the fruit offered by that boat. Other small boats carried bags of the fruits to the markets on land. There were also boats that carried fish in big bags half-filled with water and oxygen, destined via land routes to Ho Chi Minh City, to markets and restaurants. Perhaps it was because Lunar New Year was just a mere ten days ago—many of the boats had large pots of bright pink bougainvilleas next to pots of yellow apricots. They stood out on the decks of the boats—which cost about 2,000 US dollars to buy, we were told. It’s amazing how people live so calmly on such boats, their living quarters cramped; their kitchen a mere counter. These are resourceful people with no sofas or big fridges or washing machines. They seem content enough to rock back and forth in a hammock hanging inside a few square meters, and perhaps enjoy a breeze blowing through the cabins. Outside, they are surrounded by the ever-present coconuts, water apples, pineapples and jack fruits and sacks of watermelon. On larger sections of the river, barges carry huge mounds of freshly dredged sand, destined for construction sites abroad. Other barges are full of rice or salt. Along the banks of the river, hundreds of houses on stilts make up residential villages, but the markets, small factories, petrol stations and the buying and selling are clear signs of the energy of the region. In other stretches there are just green trees and shrubs. The one anomaly is the tall Gothic cathedral left behind by the French. It had been built a century before to serve the needs of religious French officers and soldiers. The final destination of this excursion is Phu An hamlet, host to a few cottage firms making coconut candies, rice papers, and other sweet treats. It’s all hand-made: on one side, a few workers shoving rice husks into a small furnace, keeping the fire going under the woks, melting the sugar and rice to make candies that are sold in markets throughout the south of the country, and exported to unknown corners of the world. On another side, a couple lines of women—and children—wrap candies in paper and stuff them into plastic bags, a kerosene lamp used to seal the bags. In the middle of one room, several men take turns molding a paste-like substance—gluttonous rice, sugar, coconut, etc—and placing it in a grid to cut up into bite-size pieces. Done with watching the workers, tour members are invited to visit another part of the house where a few women turn a liquid mixture of rice flour into the thin paper used throughout the country as wrappers for traditional Vietnamese spring rolls. The workers don’t seem to mind the visitors walking around their workshop. Visitors are invited to sample the candies, of course, along with local brew of tea and honey. A few tables are set up to sell artisan products—chopsticks, spoons, combs and handbags made of coconut shells, paper fans, and a few bottles of rice wine with longan or jackfruit flavoring. February isn’t a hot month, the humidity isn’t so bad. Still, on the motorboat ride back, we welcomed the breeze, and we all are left to think of the stoicism, the energetic spirit, and the hospitality of the people in the villages along the banks of the Mekong. Lunch and a quick rest, then it’s another tour to enjoy the scenic rides on yet more canals. We ride for about half an hour to the island of Binh Thanh to arrive at a village untouched by tourism. Here, local people are known for their rattan mats—a humble cousin to the Japanese Tatami. On a narrow street, house after house reserve their thatch-roofed front porches as a work area where women and children squat on the floor or on benches. They weave strands of rattan into simple mats that are sold and also used locally in place of a mattress, which would be too expensive and uncomfortable in the tropical heat. One can’t help but notice that the men were all sitting around, smoking, drinking, taking care of roosters while the women worked. But perhaps it’s a Sunday, or perhaps they are taking a rest from their own jobs fishing or cultivating fruits in fields elsewhere. At the end of the narrow street, we turned the corner to find ourselves in a communal hall over a hundred years old. The back part of the hall hosts a temple supposedly inhabited by divine and kind spirits, while the front is a large room under a tin roof that serves as a meeting place. We were asked to share a few moments with a man and a woman—neighbors—who are keepers of this communal hall, and who told us about their personal history as well as the history of the area. The woman, 70 years old, and the man, 76, have lived through a lot but clearly have maintained a healthy diet, and an accepting and cheerful outlook. They looked much younger than their age. In their words, and in their eyes, we could see how they appreciated the chance to meet us and share their stories and meet the visitors. We left also grateful to them and those in the village who welcomed us. Back to the Jahan, we took in the sunset then returned to our guides who helped end the day with a quick slide show that summed up life in the Mekong Delta and the great efforts of the local people through times of turmoil and development.
Kampong Cham, Wat Nokor & Wat Hanchey, Cambodia They make you think of egrets – thin, light, graceful, lithe, gentle… small steps, one by one, rhythmic, unhurried… a joyful harvest dance… They’re girls sponsored by a local non-profit organization helping disadvantaged youths. They were there on the sidewalk in Kampong Cham, dancing barefoot in the dust, and singing in ethereal voices full of innocence to the accompaniment of a five-piece traditional band, also comprised of youths… to welcome us as we go ashore in the early morning. They also make you think of phoenixes: they give you hope as you begin to imagine they will rise out of the ashes of Cambodia’s recent dark history, taking their generation and their nation to a more prosperous and more blissful time. After that beginning, guests are taken on a short bus ride through this town with hints of French urban designs, past bustling blocks of shops and stalls and wide brick sidewalks, towards the past. The past is Wat Nokor, a humble yet impressive temple built of red and black laterite stone. Constructed in the 12th century, Wat Nokor is a square compound with intricate arches and walls surrounding a modern temple. A soft wind relieves us of the unforgiving heat, and creates a monotone symphony among the fig and banyan leaves above us, mixed with the echoes of chanting from a wedding nearby. In some moments, the chants are clearly Buddhist, but in some others, they take on the semblance of Islamic calls to prayers. The ancient walls and carved forms cast a shadow on the courtyard, reaching into the French/Italian-style tiles of the walkways that surround the modern Buddhist temple. Inside, every inch of the bright blue columns and ceilings bear golden images of Buddha, and scenes of devotion and learning in a kaleidoscope of colors that bring to mind sacred paintings in the monasteries of Bhutan or Tibet. There is too a definite Hindu influence here, while outside, half-hidden in an upper corner of the laterite walls, a small cat sits in silence, motionless, an animate expression in its eyes. Zen-like, it contemplates the temple visitors below, while its own presence in this temple also bears hints of a Taoist disposition. Just outside the ancient compound, guests find another structure containing sculptures of warriors, sacred monkeys and snakes, and Buddha in lotus position. It’s all new, but these are testaments to the Cambodian insistence on the nation’s traditions and spiritual devotion. On the way back to the Jahan, guests are given a chance to view a long bridge made of thousands of crisscrossing bamboo sticks – an astonishing engineering achievement, but also yet another symbol of what we have learned of this country and its people: gentle and delicate, fragile yet sturdy, resourceful, and often imbued with an elegant simplicity. Following lunch, the Buddhist spirit is invited aboard with the presence of Cambodian monks who offer a half-hour chanting session, bringing blessings to the guests and staff on the Jahan. Guests then spend the afternoon on the final excursion from the ship. The steps ashore are steep, the expectations tinged with fun: we’re to ride up a hill on the back of scooters driven by local men and women. The ride takes our guests to Wat Hanchey. It is a modern temple complex built upon the site of an ancient site, another pre-Angkorian structure of the 7th century. Guests wander about in amazement at the colors – blue and gold and bright pink pagodas underneath the green canopy of large banyan trees. Blond gibbons with black faces jump around on the branches while below villagers offer fried noodles and fruit juices. In the distance, young novice monks dot the scenery with their saffron robes. On the tree trunks throughout the compound, there are pieces of wood painted blue, sporting proverbs and other sayings in both Khmer and English: many seem to be Buddhist teachings, others seem to be translations of popular idioms in English. “Rather Be Born Lucky than Rich.” “A Mind is a Terrible Thing to Waste.” “Honesty is the Best Policy.” One wooden plaque is apt for our last day on the Jahan and our anticipated journey toward Siem Reap to visit the marvels of the Angkor complex: “Welcome to Your Trip.” A surreal touch is added to the entire area with giant concrete sculptures of alligators, lions, hippos, horses and buffalos, and replicas of tropical fruits, painted in all the bright colors. They’re there to help teach the young children, and they lend a semblance of a children’s amusement park. One temple is a shrine with a dozen larger-than-life cement sculptures of noted monks. You keep walking around and around to marvel at this mixture of religious devotion and playground atmosphere. At some point, the guests will wander over to one edge of the hill to be rewarded with a peaceful scene below – the Mekong, languid and gentle as it snakes its way past the sandy beaches and green pastures. Tonight is our last on the Jahan. Another feast is prepared, and the Jahan staff members take their bows to say goodbye while we silently feel deep inside us the gratitude for their services of the past week, and for their unwavering smiles. Words of farewell are exchanged as guests take up invitations to learn a few Cambodian dance moves, not quite mastering them, but happy that for a moment, we’ve touched and been touched by their grace.
Neptune’s Staircase, Loch Linnhe and Oban During breakfast the morning mist and misty heads cleared and we got the most gloriously sunny day. Neptune’s Staircase lowered the Lord of the Glens over a space of 500 yards and eight locks by 64 feet. This is a masterpiece of 19th century engineering – of course all thought out by Thomas Telford. Once we had cleared the sea lock at Corpach, we are on the Atlantic. But before sailing off into Loch Linnhe, we waited on the Jacobite steam train passing us. With a friendly exchange of whistles between the train and the Lord of the Glens we set off into the Atlantic Ocean. The sail to Oban was magnificent – the sun was beating on to the sea, the hills in many shades of green and the occasional cottages and fluffy clouds were reflecting in the mirror-like sea. After an entertaining talk by Rick Atkinson on sailing and wildlife around the west coast of Scotland and after lunch we sailed into Oban. This is a wee extra on our trip – we are still doing everything that is on the itinerary in the next few days, but have some time for shopping and exploring this lovely port. Later in the afternoon Steve Blamires lead an informative and breathtaking (due to the gradient and the views) walk up to McCaig’s Folly. This Scottish take on the Roman Coliseum dates back to the turn of the 19th/20th centuries and was paid for by the banker and burgh councilor John Stewart McCaig who wanted a monument to himself and his family. Many of us went for another stroll watching the sky turning to shades of red and orange before settling down for the night after this lovely day.
Inverie to Kyle of Lochalsh A quiet, overcast morning greeted us at Inverie when we woke this morning. During breakfast we made our way, on Lord of the Glens, out of Loch Nevis and headed across the Sound of Sleat to Armadale, our first destination of the day. By the time we arrived the cloud had lifted and a calm, bright morning promised ideal conditions for our visit to the gardens and history centre at Armadale Castle. Gardens on the west coast of Scotland tend to be past their best by this time of year, but this was not the case today. The extensive perennial flower borders were looking exceptionally fine as were the gardens around the pond area. Inside the new visitor centre we were able to trace the history of the Clan Donald, Lords of the Isles, back through the past 1,300 years. Once we were all back on Lord of the Glens we were on our way once again, heading north up the Sound of Sleat, the body of water that separates the Isle of Skye from the mainland. Just as we were passing the lighthouse at Ornsay Island opposite Loch Hourn we became aware that a marine salvage operation was taking place beside our ship. A sailing catamaran had capsized and a rescue tug was attempting to right it; apparently with little success. As we continued along our journey we passed many other interesting landmarks including the Sandaig Islands, where Gavin Maxwell wrote “Ring of Bright Water,” the book about the otters. At the north end of the Sound of Sleat is a very narrow passage of water known as Kyle Rhea that we had to pass through to reach Loch Alsh. The current flowing through this channel reaches seven knots or more at mid tide and unfortunately the tide was against us as we headed into the channel. It was slow progress for a while. Safely across at Kyle of Lochalsh, we tied up alongside the pier for lunch. Our afternoon excursion included a visit to one of the most-photographed and recognizable of the Scottish castles, Eilean Donan. The location of the castle sets it apart; sitting prominently out on the north shore of Loch Duich, you can’t miss this castle as you pass along the road that takes you to Skye. This castle had become a Jacobite stronghold but was destroyed in 1719 by English warships. It has now been restored to all its former glory and holds many historic relics from the Jacobite cause. From Eliean Donan Castle we drove along the coastal road out to the village of Plockton, passing through the village of Duirinish, where we came across the very charming, docile herd of highland cattle that are allowed to roam freely through the village. The tide was out when we reached Plockton and all the small boats at anchor along the shore were left high and dry. We were able to wander along the front street and enjoyed looking over the fences of the small garden plots belonging to the cottages on the other side of the street. All too soon we were heading back to our ship at the end of our last excursion of the trip. Back on Lord of the Glens we enjoyed the extravagant captain’s farewell cocktail party and the effusive dressing of the haggis by Brian, the hotel manager, to say nothing of the wonderful roast dinner. All too soon the past week’s journey had come to an end.
Isle of Mull and Iona Captain Bob Rait set sail from Tobermory at 6:00 a.m., giving us all a wake-up call for a busy day at sea and on the isles of Mull and Iona, ending at the mainland town of Oban. We needed an early start as the drive along the southwest coast of Mull to the tiny ferry port for Iona took an hour and a quarter, but our coach driver, Bill, gave us an insightful commentary and spotted wildlife for us too. This was an extraordinarily rich day for experiencing the natural world and the cultural-historical world of Scotland. On the way to Iona we saw an otter swimming in a sea loch, a rare sighting of this very shy species, and on the way back to the ship we viewed a white-tailed sea eagle soaring majestically on its ten-foot wings. Later, two red deer stags grazing on rich green grass among the bracken lifted their antlers to check us out before going back to their meal. The grey cloud cover broke as we approached the holy island, Iona, where countless pilgrims have preceded us to visit the sites of St Columba’s monastery, the cradle of Christianity in Scotland, founded in A.D. 563 and continued today by members of the ecumenical Iona community. We toured the island; some went with Rick on a nature-based ramble while others spent more time looking at the ancient monuments with Konia and Iris. We all met together for lunch at the St Columba Hotel and enjoyed piping hot lentil soup and open sandwiches before free time for exploration and shopping. The sun had come out, and with blue skies above we drove to Duart Castle, residence of Sir Lachlan Maclean, 28th Chief of Clan Maclean. The impressive fortress situated on a cliff top overlooking the Sound of Mull was a great finale to our visit to Mull and we got a superb view of the castle as we sailed to Oban where we came alongside in the centre of the waterfront for our overnight stay. We were rewarded by a magnificent sunset, heralding another beautiful summer day ahead.
Phnom Penh Phnom Penh beckoned. We’d docked by its riverbank at night, and the blinking lights held promises of a break from the countryside. In the morning, the excitement was clear at breakfast, as we had been promised a ride on a pedi-cab—a three-wheeled contraption. Getting on was fun and we realized it was like sitting in a mobile armchair with a friendly driver pedaling behind us, pushing us forward into the energetic streets of Cambodia’s capital city. Some twenty minutes later, we arrived at a plaza in front of the expansive Royal Palace. “That was fun,” someone said. “Fantastic!” came the reply. We could visit the palace freely, as King Sihamoni was not in residence. He had accompanied his father, Norodom Sihanouk, on a customary medical visit to Beijing. The old king, though often ill and now 90 years old, remains feisty even if his life has been a rollercoaster ride through an eventful history. The tropical sun was beating down on us, but the tour members gamely walked the grounds, marveling at the golden roofs, the murals, the grandeur of it all. Then it was the Silver Pagoda, full of artifacts and Buddha statues of all sizes and postures. There were more statues of ancient kings and Buddha at the National Museum, a striking red building high off the ground. It is imposing and yet inviting at the same time: an open and airy space, with halls set around a large courtyard with cooling palms and greeneries. We spent an hour absorbing more history and seeing red and brown stone sculptures, somehow more revealing in isolation than in their original settings in the temples around the Angkor complex. Tapas seemed an odd if original choice for lunch—until we realized it was in fact a visit to the august Topaz Restaurant. “Only for VIPs,” said Sam, our guide. No Spanish food, but a traditional dish called Fish Amok, tasty, slightly spicy, and definitely presented with elegant style in an artfully folded banana leaf. Then it was time for a visit we all knew would be difficult but important and necessary: The Killing Fields and then S-21, code name for Tuol Sleng. Four buildings that had been a school until the Khmer Rouge turned it into a prison, S-21 was a torture center—and now is a devastating museum. It is here that one comes to gain some true sense of the madness, the enormity of the cruelty that had descended upon the Cambodian people. Each of the people that had been brought here were methodically photographed, then tied to iron beds, tortured, interrogated, made to write impossible confessions, and left to die, or executed not far away. An estimated 17,000 people suffered this unspeakable fate, and it drained us to walk past the brick walls that had held them, and to look into their eyes: portrait after portrait, lined up in rows and rows of photographs. A visit to Tuol Sleng makes you question humankind; it drains you, and it changes you. After that, an energetic lecture aboard the Jahan by the eloquent and unbelievably knowledgeable journalist and scholar Jean-Michel Filippi was an apt ending for the day. His hour-long presentation traced events in Cambodia since it gained independence from France in 1953, to 1993 when the United Nations successfully organized the first mass elections in this battered country. It was like reading an encyclopedia on the personalities, the historical contexts, and the wars and sick aims of sick men that destroyed a nation in a few years. Later, the devastation we all felt was temporarily and mercifully erased with a performance by profoundly graceful traditional dancers and musicians. It was obvious the extreme beauty—and the severe ugliness of the recent history—will remain inside each of us long after this Cambodian journey has come to an end.
Siem Reap, Cambodia Shocking, the morning after a splendid reception and dinner at La Résidence the previous evening, to rouse ourselves a little after 4a.m., gather up camera, insect repellent, sunscreen and, most important, powerful little LED flashlight. Then down to poolside to be fuelled for our morning excursion with coffee and croissants. At 5:10a.m., we board our three buses for the short trip out to magnificent Angkor Wat, the largest Vishnu temple and arguably the largest religious building in world. It is still pitch dark, but we have been advised that we must be at the west entrance at least 45 minutes ahead of sunrise (which, today, is at 6:20a.m.). Our objective is to observe the spectacular sunrise over the iconic Wat. Our flashlights are a “must” as we navigate the long causeway, which seems much narrower than it does in daylight (no guardrails, so hug the centre) and enter the west gateway. We are escorted around a narrow ledge (watch that drop-off) inside the massive outer wall and take our places where we can get the best view of the towers. As the sky over the temple turns pink, cicadas break into song over by the modern Buddhist monastery to our left. And then, emerging from a low cloudbank to the east, the sun: just to the right of the tallest central tower, exactly as ancient Khmer astronomers predicted. We are a few days short of the Spring Equinox, when the sun will rise precisely over that main tower. The photographers go mad. Making our way to the “happy room” and beyond, we are treated to a concert of Khmer music played by young disabled acolytes near the monastery. We stop by the reflecting pool where the avid photographers can zero in on the wat and its image—unfortunately a little obscured by the low water of the dry season in Cambodia. We continue along the north side of the temple and stop to greet a large family of fearless, and very healthy, macaque monkeys, which are not hesitant to snatch food and items of clothing from unwary tourists. They are of all shapes and sizes from a newborn clinging to his mother’s breast to large and torpid grandmothers squatting along the pathway supervising the brood. Interesting how these animals have settled in this one area of the wat, with swift access if need be to the greenery nearby. But our attention is drawn to our main goal: the wooden stairway built to permit access to the lower platform of the Wat without further damaging the stone steps, eroded by a thousand years of use. On the way, we notice a single Buddhist nun, in characteristic white robe, meditating on a patch of grass, oblivious to the stream of visitors passing by. We realize that this is, and has been for centuries, an active Buddhist place of workship. In spite of the numbers of travellers, and probably because we are not here at the height of the tourism season, there is an air of tranquillity. Entering the lower galleries, we walk by some of the magnificent bas-relief friezes; if one should be really serious about understanding and analyzing the stories depicted here—the Ramayana, the Mahabaratha, the depictions of the king and his court, the interactions between heaven and hell and the “churning of the sea of milk” (which we will return to as we later enter the neighbouring Angkor Thom)—we could easily spend a day or more here, but time is short. On the second level, we note again the magnificently rendered carvings of Apsara dancers. Someone comments that “these cannot be Khmer women; they are far too well endowed on top”; I respond that these are celestial virgin dancers and “Indian” in provenance. We can look up at the temple mountain where the Hindu gods, to whom this confusing Hindu/Buddhist temple was dedicated, reside. Those who care to brave the 47 steps to the top have a wonderful view of the vast temple grounds and beyond. To the west, we see that some clever entrepreneur is offering rides in a tethered hot air balloon: no more than 200 metres off the ground, but a great adventure, especially for local tourists from the Cambodian countryside. An encouraging feature of the Angkor complex is that Cambodian citizens may enter free of charge. La Résidence provides its usual excellent breakfast/brunch, which might be enough for any ordinary mortal to skip lunch. Off go the more energetic participants to visit the markets or to try lunch at the classic Grand Hotel d’Angkor and to be disappointed that the “Elephant Bar,” strongly recommended by an old Siem Reap hand, who shall remain nameless, is closed until 4:00p.m. In the afternoon, we board a convoy of “tuk-tuk”s, a Thai name for what the Cambodians used to know as “ramok” (from the French “remorque”), a large rickshaw-like vehicle drawn by a powerful motor scooter. Arriving at the giant gate of Jayavarman VII’s “Angkor Thom” (Great City), we head immediately for yet another iconic temple, the Bayon. Originally built along the lines of other Hindu temples, with high towers, this was converted by Jayavarman VII, himself a late convert to Buddhism, into a Mahayana Buddhist edifice. It is unique in the world, as it features an endless display of human (or godlike) heads on the towers, most of which are topped by double lotus blossoms. In the jungle that had obscured most of the Angkor ruins by the 19th century, the French explorer André Mouhot, claims to have been surprised to see this giant face peering down at him from within the foliage. The tuk tuks take us further along the road through Angkor Thom to see the Elephant terrace and the Terrace of the Leper King, upon which once stood the gilded wooden palaces of the Kings of Angkor. Our stay in Siem Reap is topped off with dinner at Restaurant “AHA” near the old market in the centre of the city—a fitting celebration to see us on the next stage of our expedition. Those who wish to venture further, to visit the market or essay another attempt at the Elephant Bar, are free to do so; many, however, will head back to our superb headquarters at La Résidence to prepare themselves for an early start on the road to Kampong Cham tomorrow.
Kampong Cham to Siem Reap; Ta Prohm Temple We say farewell to the marvellous crew of the Jahan, who, after helping us and our baggage up the precipitous bank of the Mekong (the river is lower than most of us have ever seen it this dry season) to our buses, stand and wave goodbye. The buses are roomy and the road is good; traffic is fairly light and the drivers are skilful in avoiding the sudden turns of goods-laden trucks ahead. We pass through a series of rubber plantations, some quite recently planted, and see stands of cashew – a good cash crop for this area. We are kept entertained by two fresh and excellent guides from Trails of Indochina. One stop at the “happy room” just beyond Kampong Thom and we arrive at Siem Reap slightly ahead of schedule. We are early to check in at the luxurious La Résidence d’Angkor, so are invited up to the bar area where we meet Karin the General Manager and are provided with refreshing fruit drinks. This is a modern, comfortable hotel, but built and equipped with distinctive Cambodian touches. After taking the time for the briefest wash and brush-up, we head out to the Angkor temple complex. It has been raining intermittently on the way up from Kampong Cham – a rare phenomenon at this time of the year – and the sky opens as our buses move toward our first stop: the exotic and mysterious Ta Prohm, a monastery built by the Buddhist King Jayavarman VII and, after his time, dedicated by his Hindu successors to the god Brahma. Amid all the clearing of forest growth and reconstruction of the Angkor monuments undertaken over the past century or so, Ta Prohm was left very much alone: it is overgrown with large Ficus trees, the huge roots of which have become part of the structures themselves. If they were removed, much of the temple would come crashing down. The rain turns out to have been a considerable blessing – we suffer the indignity of getting quite wet and/or muddy wading through inches-deep puddles and scrambling over low rock walls to get to the inner courtyard, but it is all well worth it. The laterite walls and sandstone superstructures, when soaked from the earlier downpour, take on a life and color that stuns the senses. This is a truly beautiful experience. In recent years, a number of wooden stairways and boardwalks have been constructed to make it easier for visitors to get around in a comfortable and orderly way, but that does not take away from the overall loveliness of the temple, with its simple structure and massive towers. There is a fair amount of reconstruction going on, but it is aimed only at safety, not at changing the experience of this unique site. After a short rest in the evening, we enjoy a group “barbeque,” moved to the dining room because of the earlier rainfall. All are happy to retire early in anticipation of a 5:00am departure the following morning to view the iconic Angkor Wat at daybreak.
Tobermory, the Isle of Eigg and Inverie Tobermory was colourful and quiet on Saturday morning before the islanders on Mull started drifting in to do their weekly shopping and business. We took advantage of this by taking several walking options along the empty, warm streets. Despite its small size, Tobermory, the “Well of Mary” in Gaelic, has an abundance of history, monuments, interesting and quirky buildings and just sheer photogenic appeal. We left Tobermory and the Isle of Mull during lunch and slid across the glassy waters en route out into the open waters and towards the Isle of Eigg. This stretch of water is known for its aquatic wildlife and today we were treated to the spectacle of a couple of minke whales and a splendid basking shark swimming lazily very close to the ship with its great black, triangular dorsal fin slicing the water. The Isle of Eigg stood out against the skyline with the great volcanic ridge of The Sgeurr looming larger and larger as we approached. There is no village as such on Eigg. The hundred or so residents live in cottages scattered across the fertile island. Other than its beauty, Eigg is well-known in Scotland due to the actions of its then-residents who some 15 years ago broke the hold of tyrannical landlords and landowners by buying out the owner and for the first time in over 1,000 years returned ownership to the people who live, work and die there. This revolutionary move has resulted in massive changes in Scottish land ownership regulations – all for the better of the whole of Scotland. When we left this idyllic little island community the wind had increased somewhat. The crossing back to the mainland was only just over an hour but for the first time since we left Inverness almost a week ago we really felt like we were on a ship. Our destination, Inverie on the Knoydart Peninsula, is tucked into the seldom visited Loch Nevis – a perfect shelter from the strong breezes on the open waters. Many places in Scotland are described as being remote but only Inverie can truly take that appellation. There are no roads connecting this tiny village with the rest of Scotland and the only way in or out is by small boat. But today the place was actually busy with many yachts of all sizes moored near the modern pier because today was the occasion of the Knoydart Highland Games. The pub, The Old Forge Inn (entered in the Guinness Book of Records as the most remote pub in the United Kingdom) was a hive of activity with happy sailors and athletes side-by-side enjoying the end of a long but pleasant day. Tomorrow we will be leaving little Inverie and the Scottish mainland as we head towards the famous Isle of Skye and yet more adventures.
Isle of Eigg and Tobermory on the Isle of Mull A bright day dawns and over breakfast a cry goes out from the bridge – Minke whale!! This was later followed by a few dolphins and porpoises, a great start to a great day. Eigg is a fertile island due to its volcanic origins and after a very checkered history it is now a very lovely and peaceful place. We spend the morning either exploring with Rick on a good hike or with Konia and Steve on a walk past the former island owner’s house or with Iris by minibus. With amazing images of the sky reflecting off the sea and wee peaceful beaches we set sail during lunch. Our sail takes us past Ardnamurchan Point, the most westerly place on the British mainland and also the Stevenson Lighthouse, dating back to 1849. Arriving into Tobermory after a wee harbor tour (the harbor is only small) we are already enchanted by this beautiful spot. Multi-coloured houses shine in the sun and entice us to explore Tobermory. We also have a few organized walks on offer, a hike along the bay with Rick, a shopping orientation with Iris or a historic stroll with either Steve or Konia. Photographers have a field day with the reflections and a forest of chimney pots as well as views from different angles of the Lord of the Glens. After dinner we are in for another treat: Wings over Mull is an educational organization for birds of prey and also runs a bird hospital. The birds that we are introduced to are gently purring along the commentary by Sue and Richard Dewar, enlightening us on birds of prey and their different habits and life styles. And with these lovely images we are off to bed or maybe to the Mishnish pub for a wee pint.
Loch Ness – Culloden and Clava Cairns The weather has been unbelievable and still is! Another hot and sunny day dawns, this time over Loch Ness. The morning is filled with impressions of the mass of water that is Loch Ness and a talk by Iris on ‘Scotland Today’ as well as a presentation by Steve on the languages of Scotland. Meantime we enjoy views of Urquhart Castle on Loch Ness, dating back to the 13th century and sail through our last lock (after all the lochs and locks) at Dochgarroch. As the ship sails into Inverness we tuck into another superb Scottish lunch. In the afternoon we visit Culloden Battlefield and visitor centre, either on our own or on a battlefield walk with Iris. She also enlightens us at the Clava Cairns on their origins. Konia is providing commentary on the coach telling us the ins and outs of the city of Inverness. During dinner we enjoy a very quirky mini version of a ‘Burns Night’, presented by Brian Copland the hotel manager, Audrey Mackenzie the piper and Jerry Ulanday the head chef. But the evening isn’t over yet. After dinner we are entertained by very young dancers of the Elizabeth Fraser School of Highland Dancing accompanied by Audrey the piper. What a great finale to a wonderful trip – it’s a shame that our journey aboard Lord of the Glens is already over.
