Wandering back to 2002

Posing on the wilderness track to Preah Vihear in 2002 with our reliable Daelim moto

Whenever I hear the words Preah Vihear my mind automatically zips back to my first visit to the mountaintop temple in March 2002. As a passenger on the trusty Daelim moto of my great pal Sokhom, we completed a 500km round-trip to visit Preah Vihear from Kompong Thom and a trip I will never forget. If you think access isn't easy now, climbing the mountainside in those days was no cake-walk! Here's an excerpt from my Cambodia Tales that tells the story of our ascent of the mountain:

In a clearing, we caught our first glimpse of the mountain on which Preah Vihear temple sits, but it was still some way off and we had to negotiate four steep but dry riverbeds before we arrived at the village of Kor Mouy on the stroke of 2pm, more than six hours after leaving Tbeng Meanchey. Many of the houses were very new and belonged to the soldiers who guard the temple and the nearby border with Thailand. A recent squabble between the two countries had seen the border remain firmly closed in the preceding months with only access from the Cambodian side a possibility and talk of a road being constructed to take tourists to the very top of the mountain was rife in the Khmer press.

The temple of Preah Vihear (or Khao Phra Viharn in Thai), mainly built in the 11th century by King Suryavarman I, commands the most spectacular location of any Khmer monument. To reach it, the climb up the mountainside would take us two hours at least, so Sokhom and I rested in hammocks at a shop-house belonging to Kouch and her two children for half an hour. As we walked to the foot of the mountain, part of the Dangrek Mountain chain that determines the border with Thailand, we met an Italian NGO worker and his four helpers who'd spent the night at the temple, which was our intention too, and I didn't need reminding that the spent shell casings and mine-signs we encountered recalled the days when the temple stronghold was a prized possession of the Khmer Rouge. The climb quickly became a real burden. I longed for an escalator (one of the off-the-wall suggestions by the Khmer press) as the canopy of trees made it extremely humid, the trail weaved around giant sandstone boulders and tree stumps but was pretty steep and frequent pauses to catch my breath were necessary. An hour into the ascent, we reached the midway point on arrival at the Bram Makara (15 January) village, much to my relief. The village as such consisted of just three houses and we rested at the first, where the family who lived there sold us some sugary drinks to boost our energy levels. We were joined for the second half of the climb by Chhoun Ny, an immigration policeman, who was due to begin his two day shift that evening. He'd been a policeman for fifteen years, mostly in Kompong Spue before transferring to Preah Vihear two years ago. According to Ny, I was the tenth tourist to visit the temple that week. The latter half of the trek was less arduous and in the open, though frequent rest and drink-stops were still a necessity. As we arrived at the small settlement at the summit, a large pig and her piglets squealed their welcome and a few families belonging to the HALO Trust deminers stationed at the site waved their hello.

I was exhausted as I rested in the immigration hut next to a tiny pagoda. The two-hour climb had been a real challenge and when one of the monks suggested I wash in their natural bathing pool nearby, I gratefully accepted his offer. I stripped, retaining a krama around my waist for modesty, and ladled cold water from the large rock pool over my head and body, alongside three other monks and Sokhom. A westerner using their washing facilities was very uncommon they told us but they were pleased to share and I was happy to accept. Refreshed, we walked through the village and on through a narrow 200 metre channel marked by small white stones and red markers. Danger!! Mines!! signs were everywhere, though the deminers had retired to their homes for the evening. As we reached the crest of the mountain plateau, the wreckage of a military helicopter lay off to the left and directly in front of us the Cambodian flag fluttered above the first gopura of Preah Vihear temple.

For more from my first Preah Vihear adventure, click here. To be honest my notes don't fully express how hard the climb was. At the time I was pretty fit but the first half of the climb was incredibly steep and so exhausting that I contemplated giving up more than once. Another real concern was the threat of landmines, so we stuck to what could loosely be called a track, though pulling ourselves up by tree roots and grabbing large stones for leverage, wasn't my idea of a recognised path. It was Sokhom's second visit so I put my trust in his judgement and we made it to the half-way point intact, where I collapsed onto a wooden bench. I was utterly shattered and I still remember that feeling as if it was yesterday. Fortunately the second half of the climb was considerably less strenuous.