Nov 17, 2022
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30 Days of Corsets: Day 5
Preference: busk, zipper, lacing, or no front closure? I've only ever had busk-closure corsets, but love the look of solid-front corsets. They're just so much more elegant.
Day 5
Sunshine! Streaming through the slats of the house, filtering through the mesh of my mosquito net. And very welcome it is too. Bread and fish arrive, and by the time I've showered about four people are cleaning our windows and the housekeeper is halfway through the washing up.
We spend the morning on the beach, reading under the shade of palm trees. I've started reading Atonement. Around lunchtime we head back to the house for food, and prepare to drive over to Tofo for our ride. We're due at 3:45pm, and we leave around 3:20 with Nick at the wheel for the first time. Unfortunately we seem to get stuck almost immediately - perhaps because the sand has been churned up and is particularly soft. A few more attempts and we're over but we're now running a bit late. We arrive at about 3:55, just in time to saddle up and get going for 4pm. I'm with Voelker, taking a slightly longer route than the others so we can go a bit faster, while Nick and a Sweedish couple are with one of the workers taking a shorter route at a slightly slower pace.
The route starts by going straight out onto the beach - where we ride through the surf for about 200 metres, until we get to a section of long flat hard sand at low tide. Voelker says we're going to go 'for a run', which I hope means a gentle canter but actually means a full fledged gallop and has me trying to concentrate on riding properly while desperaely resisting the urge to just grab onto something and hold on for dear life.
The ride goes on for around an hour and a half, taking in the beach, dunes, palm plantations, villages with donkeys, pigs and lambs wandering around, and summits with views stretching across from Tofo to Barra. At one point we ride through some land Voelker reveals is his - bought last year and waiting for him to save enough money to build his house. Crossing to the other side I see why this is a perfect spot - it's balanced on the edge of a step hill with views across acres of marshland to palms in the distance, and the sun is starting to set behind them. Who wouldn't want to build a house here. Mind you. at the moment you can only reach it by horse, though you can get within about 100 metres with a very tough 4x4.
After the ride we give the Sweedes a lift back to Fatima's Nest, and drive back to Barra with Nick at the wheel. Nick hits less potholes than I do, but with him driving the car seems to veer without warning towards whichever side of the road has the most trees, rocks or other dangerous obstacles.
In the evening I realise, tediously, that I've been sunburnt badly. Again. Despite not having been in the sun without a hat on all day. Dinner is calamari bought earlier in the day from the fishermen that visit the house. We have far too much for ourselves so we do an extra plate for Vasco, our night watchman. He has no English, and the only words I've heard him utter so far are 'torch' and 'change', the latter reserved for when the torch battery runs out and he wants us to give him the other torch.
Nick opens the window and calls his name. Vasco appears - barely visible until he's right in front of you, seems to appraise the situation and slowly takes the plate of food offered, nods slightly and walks off. Nick indicates that he can use the table on the deck to eat, but this fails to distract Vasco from his retreat back to his hideaway under the decking.
Towards the end of the day the power starts to flicker on and off again.
Day 5
Since we only had one day at Angkor, we wanted to make the best of it, so we got up at 4:15am and were ready to go by 4:45. It was still pitch dark outside when we left the guesthouse, and the tuk tuk driver who we had booked the night before was asleep in his tuk tuk. So we woke him up.
First stop, Phnom Bakheng, after entering the Angkor national park virtually the instant it opened at 5am. Phnom Bakheng is a hilltop temple, one of the earliest of the temples to be constructed, and was finished at the end of the 9th century by the Khmer ruler Yasovarman. It's an ideal place to watch the sunrise because it's perched atop the highest peak in the Angkor area.
Getting out of the tuk tuk, it was still very dark, and we could barely discern a path disappearing off to the left and generally upwards through the trees. The path slowly wound it's way up the hill, and we followed it gingerly, trying not to trip over roots and stones that were impossible to see clearly. The local wildlife was quite active and becoming more so, hissing and buzzing unseen in the trees to either side.
The path emerged into an open area at the top, on which the silhouette of the temple was visible against the brightening sky. It is formed, like most Khmer temples, of a square base, with stone staircases leading up on all sides.
We were alone at the top, and in fact for as far as we could see, and settled in to watch the dawn break over the area. The view stretched for miles, with stone temples dotted around, but no evidence of the modern world save a hot air balloon which gave a similar view to those with weaker legs and stronger wallets.
After daybreak, we descended, which seemed altogether simpler now that we could see where we were going, and woke up our tuk tuk driver again. Next stop, Angkor Thom, which is not a temple so much as a city containing a number of temples. Built three hundred years after Phnom Bakheng, it was heavily fortified with a 1000m moat and robust stone walls. At its centre lies the Bayon, the state temple of Jayavarman VII, which is known for its towers and the smiling Buddha faces that adorn them. Standing in the middle of the temple, you get the feeling that Buddha is smiling at you from every direction, which is quite nice. Around the outer walls, bas reliefs tell stories of conquest, feast, life and love.
It's already hot. Climbing the hundreds of steps these temples is taking its toll, and it's only 7am. We had breakfast in the shadow of the Bayon. Small kids, probably about 8 or 9 years old were buzzing around the tables trying to sell stuff that I can't imagine anyone would ever consider buying. One girl was pushing a wooden bracelet in front of my while I was trying to ignore her, but she was talking non-stop in very practiced English.
"Where you come from?" "England"
Oh dear. I'd spoken to her. Big mistake.
"If I can tell you the capital of England, you buy my bracelet?"
I pointed at her and told her to go away, which did the trick. Made note to self that next time I will be from the Democratic Republic of Congo.
Emily and Liz had a brief conference over the map and decided on our next destination, then convinced our tuk tuk driver to take us there. He was becoming slightly unwilling, and kept suggesting a different destination, which seemed to be the next stop on what he considered the standard tour. But Emily's position was that to jump ahead would avoid the crowds that were following the very route he wanted to take. I wasn't particularly bothered about what we saw next, as long as we got the main sights in, but I was quite happy to let her orchestrate the agenda.
She didn't see it that way, and as a result I got subjected to a verbal assault on how I should have supported her in her stand with the driver. Thoroughly undeserved - Emily does have a tendency to stir things up to try to get what she wants, and while I'm happy to let her do it I'm not going to try to help. If you want somebody who will happily take you wherever you want to go, whenever you want to go there, you simply have to pay them more than £7 a day.
Ta Pohm was the next stop, and one that provided quite a different experience to the temples we'd seen so far. While the Bayon sits grandly in the centre of an open space, Ta Pohm has been invaded by the jungle. Trees grow around, through, under and over the stone structures, slowly breaking them apart. It was used as the location for the filming of Tomb Raider, and it's easy to see why. As soon as you go in you get a sense of the intrepid - almost expecting to find ancient booby traps ready to fire spring-loaded crossbows at you, Indiana Jones style.
A man approached me and told me that I should have a guide for this temple. "Is very good idea for this". I told him I was a professor of archaeology.
We took our time there, clambering and exploring. Although this, like most of the temples, was built symmetrically, it is no longer possesses any obvious symmetry. Every time you pass through a doorway, the next courtyard seems unique in some way, an illusion created by the trees and piles of collapsed stone. It got to the point where I wasn't sure of which direction would take me back to the entrance. Eventually we regrouped and left, but the experience had definitely been the best of the day so far.
Outside, after waking up the tuk tuk driver, Emily had another bust up with him. They wanted to go to Neak Pean, which was recommended by the Rough Guide, but that was apparently on the 'Big Tour', and would cost an extra $5. So, feeling comprehensively conned, we settle for completing the remainder of the 'Small Tour', the next stop of which is Ta Keo.
Ta Keo is a large, impressive and fairly imposing sandstone pyramid, but with very little decoration. A brief recce to the top provided us a good view, refreshing breeze and a quick rest before descending and moving on.
The next two were smaller and unremarkable except for the fact that one of them is in the process of being restored, and the various 'bits' of this huge 3D jigsaw are laid out on the ground. How they work out where they all go is a mystery to me, and moving them must be a feat in itself.
We found ourselves back at Angkor Thom in time to eat lunch next to the Terrace of the Elephants, at 10:40am. Sandwiches we'd bought from the Star Rise restaurant the previous evening, which were cheaper and much better than anything available here. We took in the rest of Angkor Thom, walking along the Terrace of the Elephants to the other major temple within the ancient city, the 'Baphuon', which is undergoing a French restoration project and is closed, but is remarkable in that it has a stunning causeway that sits on hundreds of stone columns.
Finally we came to Angkor Wat, the jewel of the Angkor crown. We'd been here the previous day at sunset, but it was now baking in the midday heat. We crossed the causeways and climbed into the sanctuary, where I found a perch that made the best of what breeze there was, and tried to write my journal. I was interrupted first by a monk, who asked for money to finance his education, and then by a couple of annoying Cambodian guys who drank my water and started behaving aggressively. I took stock of the fact that I was perched on the edge of a 50ft drop, and left. They laughed at my retreat, and I found the whole incident rather depressing. People like that will never get this country moving.
I settled in on the opposite corner of the sanctuary, but didn't get much done before another Cambodian guy, again of about my age, appeared and started talking to me. This was getting frustrating. Why couldn't they go and bother some other unlucky foreigner? I told him in no uncertain terms that I wasn't going to give him any money, and he seemed predictably disappointed by this, even though he hadn't actually asked yet, but he stayed anyway and eventually I gave up and tried to have a conversation.
And a bizarre conversation it was. He launched into all kinds of questions to practice his English, others arrived, and soon I was in the middle of a circle of Cambodians in their late teens and early twenties all trying to show off their rudimentary English. Most of them didn't really get past 'hello', until the original guy, who seemed to be in charge, started to organise everyone into an impromptu English class, making sure all of his more reserved friends got involved. My faith was restored. With enough people like that, Cambodia might have a brighter future to look forward to.
The guy was smart, and very proud of a small notebook in which he collected English words - "autumn" was my favourite, because living in the tropics he could have no possible use for it. The book also contained names and email addresses of foreigners he'd met, and lists of places in the world that they came from. He said a woman tourist had once given him a dictionary, and that this was an amazing thing. I agreed, although I think the most amazing thing is how she managed to lay her hands on a Khmer-English dictionary in the first place. Nice idea though, unless you happen to think that by encouraging the developing nations of the world to learn English, we are erasing their cultural identity. Which I don't.
We got back to the guesthouse at about 2pm, although I'd have called it 6 if I hadn't had access to a watch. Having showered and changed, I found a landing in the guesthouse which was slightly cooler than the rest of the building, dragged a sofa directly under the ceiling fan and settled down to write my journal without fear of being called on to stage a language class. Emily and Liz decided to go to the market again. Obviously, being women, they are incapable of getting though a whole day without shopping. Not for me though. Siesta time.
location:Siem Reap
summary:In which the majestic temples of Angkor are shown in their full glory, and the author narrowly avoids a third consecutive day of shopping
_wp_old_slug:05
ihave:Seen the sunrise at the temples of Angkor
trip:sea04
day:5
Day 5
location:Wroxham/Thurne
summary:Becalmed. Proceeded using quant to Thurne. Break at nature trail. Storm in the evening. My birthday
trip:sailing03
day:5
Day 5
We wake up in time for breakfast at 9.00 AM. The restaurant is in a small dining room, but very grand, with circular leather sofas around the tables. The main dining room next door is like a state banqueting hall, with huge chandeliers. To our delight the restaurant also has a bank of phones by the door that are exactly the 'hotline' style that we've been looking for. Unfortunately the hotel refuses to sell it to us on the grounds that they need it to talk to the kitchen.
Today we're heading for a forest camp at Oxotino, via an open air museum of Russian wooden architecture.
The museum is set in a birch forest, where wooden houses from all over Russia have been transplanted and rebuilt. Each one is increasingly grand, and looked after by its own curator, who seem to be universally women over 60. At the last house, we accidentally attempted to go in through the exit, and had our way barred by a woman and a torrent of Russian. In full retreat, we backed out of the building, moved four feet to the left, and walked through the entrance to see the same woman smiling at us in welcome. As we left we asked if we could take her picture, which made her very happy.
I also took a picture of two Russian girls who seemed very uninterested in the wooden houses but utterly engrossed by the handheld Tetris games they were holding. We walked through the beautiful silver birch forest and saw what looked like a wedding party, then returned to the bus to visit the nearby monastery.
The monastery was actually virtually next door. There were lots of exhibits, and we were asked for our ticket in every room. The icons were impressive in age and quality, if a bit overwhelming in quantity.
Back on the road we head for the forest camp where we are to spend the night. We stop for lunch at McDonald's, which, according to Sasha is the only place available due to a cold water shortage in the area. This seems slightly ridiculous because it's pouring with rain.
We arrive at the forest camp at about 5.00 PM. Sasha and Dimitri produce a deck of cards, hoping to redeem their national pride after their loss in the pool tournament. We play poker for matches until about 7.00 PM when we have dinner. Rob attempts to make a cup of tea - our room has two water urns, so he replaced the big one with the smaller one, filled it and plugged it in. No effect. Determined, he filled the big urn from the small one, topped it up and plugged it in. Rather worryingly this caused the lights in the room to dim. Having fashioned a mug from a Coca-Cola bottle, and found a teabag, the tea was eventually made.
We played more poker after dinner, and went out to the forest to collect firewood, then had a 'Banya', or Russian sauna. This is rather like a normal sauna, except that it's hotter, and you beat your fellow sauna users with birch branches that have been soaked in boiling water. This is supposed to be therapeutic. Sasha and Dimitri fiddle with the boiler, apologising that the banya is not hot enough, while Rob and I sit still and try to avoid passing out in the face of the furnace-like heat. Then came the birch beating, administered with much gusto by Sasha, and finally the ritual dowsing in icy water as we left the sauna. I have to admit I was feeling pretty refreshed, but Rob was looking none too good for the experience.
More poker playing ensued, with local girl Veronica joining in. She spoke no English, which only served to make her bluffs that much more difficult to read. Dimitri soon disappeared to build a barbecue for dinner. Sasha then disappeared briefly, leaving Veronica looking a bit like a fish out of water. We went through all the English words she might know, and had discovered only "queen" by the time Sasha returned, although Sasha quickly determined that her knowledge of queen was musical rather than royal. By the time the barbecue was ready, Veronica had won all of our chips.
The barbecue was excellent, although it was a typical bloke barbecue, in that it consisted solely of barbecued meat. We headed for bed at about 2.00 AM.
location:Kostroma - Oxotino
summary:Wooden houses, birch forest, monestary, forest camp, banya
ihave:Been beaten with boiling birch branches in a Russian sauna
_wp_old_slug:05
trip:russia03
day:5
Day 5
location:Cate Town / George
summary:On the road, visiting Caledon and Mossel Bay
trip:sa02
day:5