arctic-cycler.com

‘Aren’t you afraid?’ he asked.
‘Why? Of what?’ I replied.
We were alone in the crumbling ruins of Prasad Koh Ker. The air was still, heavy with humidity. The cries of birds high up in the forest roof broke the silence for a moment – and then the blanket of silence returned.
‘Ghosts.’

The home of the ghost

I’m not sure who he was. He was working for the park in some way, I think. He was serious about the ghosts. It is just the place I would expect to find them.

Actually, that was at one of the side-temples of Prashad Koh Ker. I realised when I had found the real temple. There was a line of food and knick-knack stalls before the entrance. The temple had a large pyramid as its climax, and from the top, you could see for miles across the plains – even to Prashad Preah Vihear where I was yesterday.

Koh Ker Temple

View from Koh Ker Temple

But, I realised that Siem Reap, with its luscious cakes, was calling. I had had enough of hot Cambodian plains, sweating profusely, and becoming raw in certains areas – the Vaseline was losing its effectiveness. It would be one final dash to Siem Reap – a dash that would see me arrive in the dark.

A Chinese tourist at Trapeang Noem temple

From the side road to Siem Reap