Kompong Chhnang isn't a provincial town that has
\nobvious attractions for the tourist hordes visiting
\nCambodia these days. For most, they catch a glimpse of it
\nas they whiz by on the speedboat between Phnom Penh and
\nSiem Reap or for a handful, it's a brief stop on
\nHighway 5 as they take the bumpy route between the capital
\nand Battambang. For me, it was an opportunity to while away
\nsome time in a sleepy riverside town and to seek out some
\nancient temples I'd heard about in the area.<\/p>\n
It was standing room only for late arrivals as the Ho
\nWah Genting air-con bus left the southwest side of Phnom
\nPenh's central market on the dot at 8am. Earlier,
\nI'd eaten breakfast at the Dara Reang Sey hotel and got
\na moto to the bus stop, paid 4,500 riel for my ticket and
\nluckily grabbed the last empty seat. Highway 5, running
\nalongside the Tonle Sap river, was badly rutted and in poor
\ncondition and it took ninety minutes to reach the Prek Kdam
\nferry where a long line of trucks waited their turn to
\ncross.<\/p>\n
Once we'd passed the border marker into Kompong
\nChhnang province the flooded lowlands disappeared and were
\nreplaced by bright green rice fields. An hour away from our
\ndestination and we came to a grinding halt. The Khmer woman
\nnext to me, on holiday from her home in New York,
\ntranslated the driver's instruction for everyone to get
\noff the bus as the bridge ahead was broken. A short walk
\nthrough the throng milling around the scene and across the
\nrickety bridge and we were soon on our way aboard the
\nreplacement bus, reaching the centre of Kompong Chhnang,
\nhalf an hour before mid-day.<\/p>\n
I'd been warned that accommodation in town was
\nfairly limited, so I established my bearings and headed for
\nthe Victory Monument where I knew that Sokha's
\nguesthouse was close by. Located in a quiet, leafy lane,
\nSokha was on hand to welcome me, his first tourist for a
\nweek and in broken English recalled that he'd heard of
\nsome old 'prasats' over the river. My second floor
\nroom was a comfortable double with fan, TV and bathroom for
\n$8. I headed back out for a look around and was immediately
\nswamped by children from two nearby schools, who
\nenthusiastically shouted their hello's, a feature which
\nbecame commonplace throughout my short stay in town.<\/p>\n
The heat was already unbearable and dust clouds had left
\na thick coat of brownish-red on everything in sight. Near
\nthe central market I collared a group of card-playing moto
\ndrivers but none spoke English, although undeterred, I
\nhired the friendliest to drive me around town. Very quickly
\nI realised Kompong Chhnang was well spread out from one end
\nto the other. A two kilometre causeway joins the larger
\npart of town that straddles the Highway with the bustling
\nwaterfront area. In between is shanty stilt housing, a
\ndistinctive water-tower and a colourful wat, while the boat
\ndock area was a mess, smelly and busy with food traders and
\nrows upon rows of those clay pots that you see everywhere
\nin town. A few run-down French colonial buildings,
\nincluding a tired-looking hotel, face out onto the Tonle
\nSap river.<\/p>\n
Exploring both halves of town, we stopped at a couple of
\nwats, one by the river and another, Wat Talmiat, both of
\nwhich had the usual indoor paintings lining the walls,
\nalthough a couple of friendly monks at the latter pagoda
\nwere determined not to let me go until I'd answered
\nevery conceivable question they could make up. I saw the
\ngates of the dormant runway, the largest in the country,
\nwhich has been earmarked for development but the heat was
\noverwhelming so I took a drinks break at the Mekong
\nrestaurant, with its English menu, and watched a
\nkick-boxing match on tv with a small posse of policeman.
\nThey told me that a bar run by an expat called the Halfway
\nPub had closed a few months earlier, but only after I
\nreturned to the cafe after a fruitless search!<\/p>\n
As I walked back to Sokha's through the tree-lined
\nside streets and past numerous colonial buildings in the
\nadministrative quarter of town, I got into a conversation
\nwith an off-duty policeman outside the local prison. Chhoun
\nChom-Roune spoke a smattering of English and jumped at the
\nchance to help me find the Angkorean-era temples over the
\nriver the next day, as they were located in his home
\ndistrict and it would enable him to visit his family at the
\nsame time. After my initial concerns that finding the
\ntemples may prove tricky, a plan was forming and we agreed
\nto meet at 6am the following morning.<\/p>\n
After a shower and a snooze, I walked into the
\npitch-black streets to find a place to eat but the lively
\nSamaki restaurant was housing a private party and
\neverywhere else appeared closed. Traffic was light, shadowy
\nfigures passed close by and I struck up a conversation with
\na male student after he opened up with the popular
\nicebreaker, 'hello, what is your name'. He
\nexplained that nothing much happened on Friday nights or
\nany night for that matter and I resigned myself to
\nreturning to the Mekong restaurant for supper. The tv was
\nswitched on as I arrived and the service was lightning
\nquick for their only customer. Unfortunately, the fried
\nchicken and fries were awful.<\/p>\n
I searched for a tikalok stand but without success,
\nalthough a full moon brightened up the walk back to
\nSokha's and I was back in my room by 8.30pm. In the
\nmorning, Chhoun was half an hour late but it didn't
\nmatter as we took a moto to the dock and negotiated with
\nthe young boatwomen for one of their craft to ferry us
\nacross to the other side of the wide river. At $4 it was an
\nexpensive ride but turned out to be a pleasant and
\nenjoyable twenty-five minute voyage across a placid and
\nwindless Tonle Sap river and past a handful of floating
\nhouses and the regular passenger ferry. Waiting for us at
\nthe small dock at Kompong Leaeng was one of Chhoun's
\nbrothers, Ne, and before we began our exploration, we
\nstopped for a beef and noodle breakfast at a market stall.
\nAround the corner we paused at Chhoun's family home to
\nmeet his parents and get another moto, with Nat, another
\nbrother, as driver.<\/p>\n
Ne, my driver and the youngest of seven brothers, held
\nup three fingers when I asked him how many ancient temples
\nhe knew of in the vicinity. His moto was well-padded with
\ngood suspension and despite the sandy track, waterlogged in
\nplaces, was the most comfortable moto I'd ever ridden.
\nWe stopped at the hamlet of Phnom Dar where most of the
\nvillagers gathered round to see the foreigner playing
\nfootball with the youngsters and ninety minutes after
\narriving on the far bank, we saw our first temple, an
\neighth century structure.<\/p>\n
Prasat Srei is a substantial single brick tower with
\nflying palaces (or representations of the temple in
\nminiature) on the sides, three false doors and damaged
\nlintels. It was located in the grounds of a small school
\nand we shared tea with two young monks and two older laymen
\nbefore moving on. An hour later, we left our moto in Chunok
\nvillage and walked along the tops of a series of dykes and
\nopen fields, past bemused workers, to another brick temple,
\nin the shade of a large tree. This was Prasat Koh Kralor
\nand whilst less imposing than the first temple, it too had
\nflying palaces, denoting the same period of construction, a
\nbroken linga inside and part of a lintel on the ground.<\/p>\n
The walk back to the village took about ten minutes, so
\nwe rested in the shade of one of the houses where girls
\nwere pounding and cooking the poorly graded rice. It tasted
\npretty foul as did their rice wine but they seemed to find
\nmy attempt at pounding the rice amusing enough. A few
\nkilometres along the track, Chhoun acknowledged a shout
\nfrom a police hut at the entrance to a small village and we
\npulled over to say hello to one of his police colleagues.
\nWord quickly spread and more of his chums arrived, so we
\ntook seats inside the hut and enjoyed a half-hour break
\nfrom the sun, while Chhoun, his brothers and friends
\nenjoyed more rice wine and a plate of dried fish. If this
\nis an example of the life of a village policeman then where
\ndo I apply!<\/p>\n
An hour later we searched for our final temple after
\nturning back towards our starting point. We were still
\nfifteen kilometres away from Chhoun's family home when
\nwe were directed to a temple a little way across the dry
\nfields. It turned out to be a ten minute walk, along a
\nsingle sandy path, where we saw some local women and
\nchildren washing in a muddy pool. They showed us how they
\ndug a hole and waited for it to fill with clear water
\ndespite the ground being bone dry on the surface. The two
\nbrick towers themselves were in a ruined state and devoid
\nof decoration, with the bricks of a middle third tower
\nscattered at our feet. Two young girls who'd followed
\nus across the fields called the temple Prasat Leaq Pdey.
\nBack on the road, we dissected a wedding party which was
\ntaking place under an awning stretched across the sandy
\ntrack before reaching Chhoun's family home just before
\n1pm.<\/p>\n
Our temple-hunting adventures had lasted more than five
\nhours so I was more than happy to accept Chhoun's
\ninvitation to eat lunch with his family and to rest before
\nreturning across the river. Their large home on stilts had
\na wide open veranda where all of us sat in shade, Chhoun
\nand myself, his father Sarun and his mother, seven
\nbrothers, two sisters and their children, as well as two
\nfriends of his father who were a little disappointed that I
\nspoke no French. A tasty meal of chicken and fish, washed
\ndown with rice wine and bottled water and followed by a
\nsiesta was just what I needed after the morning's
\nexertions. I was keen to return to Phnom Penh for a
\nbirthday party later that evening, so at 3pm Chhoun and I
\nsaid our goodbyes, I paid his two brothers for their
\nservices and we chartered a larger boat to return us to the
\nopposite boat dock, across the river which was as still as
\na millpond.<\/p>\n
As we passed the bus stop near the Victory Monument, I
\nasked the bus driver to wait for five minutes while I
\ncollected my bag from Sokha's, which he did. I thanked
\nChhoun for his help and friendship and gave him a small
\ngift before ending my brief stay in Kompong Chhnang. With
\nthe bridge still down, we changed buses again and finally
\nrolled into Phnom Penh's central market at 7pm. The
\nride was terribly bumpy and that induced one youngster near
\nme to suffer acute travel sickness for the whole trip.<\/p>\n
After a quick shower at my hotel, I joined the party at
\nthe Wang Dome restaurant in 240 Street celebrating the
\nbirthday of a friend, Kulikar, the partner of Nick, Lonely
\nPlanet's Cambodia author. The buffet was delicious and
\nfar removed from my meal at the Mekong restaurant in
\nKompong Chhnang the night before and amongst the guests I
\nmet a VSO worker from my hometown – a small world indeed.
\nSrun and Reangsey picked me up and delivered me back to my
\nhotel a little before midnight to round off a contrasting
\nbut thoroughly enjoyable two days.<\/p>\n