I arrived at about lunchtime and decided to have a drink in a cafe and decide what to do. I knew that the ancient city of Angkor was pretty big and thought it might be possible to camp somewhere. I set off to have a gander and rode down the main road where I was immediately flagged down by a guy with a walkie talkie. He told me to go back and buy a ticket for $20. Since Angkor covers a huge area there are numerous entrances, Cambodians who live in the area go in and out as they please. Us walking cash machines can't. I decided to nip down some dirt roads and avoid getting a ticket, for now. My GPS has every single dirt track and road in the area on, thus I was able to circumnavigate around him and emerge from the jungle to found some sort of ruins. Another guy with a walkie talkie immediately stopped me. I heard the word 'moto' mentioned by someone on the other side. Bugger, these guys were organised.
I went back to get a ticket. I could easily afford it, I just enjoy playing KTM hide and seek in the jungle. They took my photo for said ticket. I looked like a crazy renegade who had just emerged from a jungle, exactly the look I had been going for.
I was then approached by a policeman who told me no big motos in the park or no tourists on motos or something but the jist was that I wasn't allowed in. The locals on their bikes together with an obscene amount of Japanese tourists in huge air-conditioned buses and many many tuk tuks were. I turned on the charm, no success. I honked my squeaky horn - always good for a giggle and guaranteed to crack a smile on all but the most hardened of war vets, no success. I offered to 'buy' a ticket for my bike, no success. I told him my name was Indiana Jones - this held no sway. In the end I agreed to take my bike back to my hotel and go on a tour.
I lied.
Once again using the amazing maps on my GPS I rode 100 metres back down the rode, found a dirt track and went around the ticket office and the policeman. They should not underestimate the power of a KTM with a Garmin.
I was now able to explore at my leisure, sort of. I decided to go to Angkor Wat first (the big famous one where I have been reliably informed that they filmed streetfighter or Mortal Combat or some sort of 90's movie based on a video game - thanks Roger!) At the checkpoint where they check your tickets I was shown somewhere to park. I would then have to walk about 1 km with lots of bike gear on, leaving my loaded bike there. I decided that I was too lazy to do such a thing and also wanted a photo of my bike in front of the temple so I sweet talked the gatekeeper into letting me go further - like the locals are allowed to do. After 20 minutes I was getting nowhere so ignored him and rode on anyway.
Angkor Wat loomed through the jungle. Words cannot do it justice. I parked my bike round the other side and took a few photos, all the while expecting police to turn up and drag me away. They didn't.
I spent the rest of the afternoon exploring small jungle tracks. Most of the gatekeepers didn't care that I was visiting and stood in awe of the bike. I was asked a million times where I came from and how much it cost but unlike India I managed to maintain a cheery face.
Japanese tourists asked if I was riding a Honda or a Yamaha. None had never heard of KTM. I think they were a bit dissapointed.
Exploring Angkor was possibly one of the best days ive had this trip. Even though I didn't really go into any of the ruins, just discovering them on the bike (and avoiding the police) was exciting enough.
Shortly after sunset I gave up on the idea of camping and was in dire need of a cold shower so I headed back into town and found a nice guesthouse. Feeling hungry I went to the restaurant and after browsing the menu asked whether 'Crispy Ant Bruschetta's' were what I thought they were. They were. I just hoped that they were all dead as I munched them.
The next day I decided to explore the temples a bit more intimately, leaving all my luggage back at the hotel so nothing could get nicked. At the ticket office I met 'PC no big noisy KTM's'. I ignored him this time and rode around anyway. The day wasn't as exciting as the previous where things were brand new, but I did wonder around inside some of the temples. Sadly I didn't get to go into the big Angkor Wat since there were lots of policemen there who just kept telling me to go away, but after a few hours I got bored of looking at ancient piles of bricks so headed back to the guesthouse about lunchtime.
I took some small dirt tracks back where I encountered my first collision of the trip. Two cows were having a scrap at the side of the road and for some reason I just rode past intrigued, until one decided to bolt across the road in front of me. I clipped his arse and fell off, not going too fast though. Stupid bovine, stupid me.
My plan was to set off early the next day back into Thailand then down to Ko Chang where I could meet up with George and Morgan again for New Years.
It was a straight road to the border, about 160km. There were lots of policemen stood along the road which I thought was strange. Maybe they were trying to stop me from escaping. It was not long before I hit a road block. The king is visiting until 11am someone explained. Bugger, a 3 hour wait. Once again Garmin came to the rescue and showed a 40km detour along some back roads. I set off down some rubbish tracks through tiny villages. 1 1/2 hours later and I emerged back onto the main road, just behind the opposite road block where people were waiting looking rather frustrated. I waved at the policemen and set off again to the border.
I was successfully stamped out of Cambodia and didn't bother going to Cambdoian customs. I just rode straight into Thailand where I was stopped at a checkpoint. The guys here were ridiculously friendly, arranging the insurance that I was supposed to have for £5 for 3 months and sorting out the required import docs. I was there probably 2 hours and they gave me bottles of water and some food.
Once legally back in Thailand, this time only with a 15day visa I set off south to Ko Chang. I arrived at the ferry terminal as the sun was setting, thinking that I might have missed the last ferry, luckily I hadn't. I found the huts George and Morgan were staying in together with Elvis, another KTM rider who I met back in India and a couple from Europe who have driven their 4x4 here through Kazakhstan, Mongolia and China.
Anyway we got drunk that night and since there were no more rooms available I kipped in Morgan's hammock. Here there are the usual things to do, beaches to lie on, beer to drink, food to eat. I don't feel as restless as I did in Laos either, I could quite happily do nothing all day here.
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