WAT A SIGHT!

Of course, that couldn't happen to one particular temple. I’d deliberately left the iconic Angkor Wat till last (even driving past it with my eyes shut) so I could get up at dawn for the sunrise.

Shivering as we zoomed through the dark and deserted Siem Reap streets, Me and I arrived at Angkor well before dawn, following the trail of flickering torches left by others. Although the crowds and clouds made it slightly disappointing, the stillness and anticipation created something magical in the air for that half hour.

The temple, which includes a giant moat and a huge avenue-esque platform approaching it and the main structures of the temple itself, is surrounded all around by the, by now, all too familiar series of bas-reliefs telling of Hindu stories - a sort of thirteenth century Daily Mirror for the illiterate. And so I spent three hours happily exploring the temple, weaving my way through its nooks and crannies, its pillars and walls studded with giant heads and ancient carvings, like some architectural garage sale

.And how did it compare with the other sites? Undoubtedly, its sheer size is its most impressive feature. It may not have the most striking images (Bayon's faces claim that one for me) or a lost paradise (make for Ta Promh) but its looming, brooding presence dominates the whole area and becomes lodged forever in some tenebrous part of the brain.

The temples were originally built to symbolise the Hindu belief in the five-peaked mountain of Meru - home to the gods - but the influence of Buddhism spawned newer murals, sculptures and carvings that have kept the Angkor Wat close to Cambodian's hearts as the iconic symbol of their country's past glory.

Following the Killing Caves in Battambang, it was good to see the people's pride in Cambodia has survived the Khmer Rouge. However, my next stop in Phnom Penh would provide no such escape from the recent past.

CLUELESS IN CAMBODIA

The next morning, P had a series of meetings so I decided to do what I’d done years ago on my gap year abroad (though it wasn’t called that then) and explore. Exiting the hotel, I immediately noticed outside a couple of over-priced, air-conditioned taxis promising guests a heat- and dust-free trip from hotel to monument.

Walking out on to the main street, I had my first introduction to the primary local mode of transport when a smiling, sweet-faced young man approached me. "You want to go to Angkor?" he tentatively asked. Travelling on my own in Europe nowadays, I wouldn’t consider for a second accepting a ride from an unlicensed carrier but something about Cambodia and its simple, unpretentious people (unlike its new hotels) was beginning to draw out my long-buried, innate sense of recklessness.

"Is moto ok?" he asked. I was rather clueless as to what transport he might be referring to, but since I’m not fussy (and tend, as I’ve said, towards reckless) of course I said yes. He led me to a small motorcycle, jammed my large bag stuffed with guide books in the front and, handbag strapped across my back, we were off. I was in heaven. Wahoo!

Over the next several days while P was in meetings, I went everywhere I didn't walk by "moto". Don't expect a helmet, no one wears one. Going through an intersection in Siem Reap is truly an experience; dozens of motorcycles (some of them piled with whole families, children clinging to parents’ waists), no traffic lights, horns blaring and generally no stopping. It's live theatre! Oh, and occasionally you need to look out for monkeys.

You can always travel by Tuk Tuk if you really don't want to moto (open, 3 wheels, slow, toxic fumes, makes a tremendous, unending "tuk,tuk,tuk" noise, hence the name) but that's not my first choice! And forget about taxis, they’re over-priced and could never reawaken that giddy recklessness of youth.