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(Credit: Alamy)
Filled with ancient bridges, little-known temples and plenty of off-road adventure, Cambodia's Eastern Royal Road reveals a unique side to the glorious Khmer Empire.
I set off in a minivan on the morning of my birthday and ended up sitting on the back of a dirt bike, holding a Cambodian man I’d never met.
At 7am, I step out of the wrought-iron elevator of Raffles Grand Hotel d'Angkor Siem Reap, as Jackie Kennedy did when she visited in 1967, to meet my guide, Pheakdey “Dey” Sieng from tour operator About Asia. I've come to Siem Reap to explore the Eastern Royal Road, a 100km route that connects the ancient temples of Angkor Wat, Beng Mealea and Preah Khan Kompong Svay. The Khmer Empire, which ruled much of Southeast Asia from 802 to 1431, is famous for its temples, but most of its power came from a 3,000km network of roads that stretched from their historic capital, Angkor, far into the territories of modern-day Thailand, Vietnam, Laos and Myanmar.
The open road
Open Road is a celebration of the world's most incredible highways and byways, and a reminder that some of the best travel adventures happen through the car.
There were five royal roads connecting the capital with provincial towns, but the Eastern Royal Road not only retains the greatest amount of Khmer infrastructure, including bridges, ponds, walls and embankments, but also features rest-site temples where pilgrims could eat, pray and sleep, unlike the other roads. The road was also used to transport stone used to build Khmer temples, and iron fashioned into weapons to defend the temples. The Khmer people were known for their sophisticated irrigation systems, and the road is lined with ancient laterite bridges crossing rivers and streams, most of which are still in use today.
This route is considered a classic road trip for dirt bike enthusiasts and temple lovers, and just before I arrived, Prime Minister Hun Manet nominated Beng Mealea and Preah Khan for UNESCO World Heritage status. Interest in these ruins is expected to grow over the next few years, so I was keen to see them while they were still less well known.
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The Kampung Kdei Bridge is nearly 900 years old and was built by the Khmer's greatest ruler, Jayavarman VII (Credit: Alamy)
There was just one problem – the scorching heat. Siem Reap is hot as hell in April, so tourists are advised to stay away, especially during this week's heatwave, with temperatures exceeding 40°C and a UV index of 12 on a scale of 1-11+.
Day's plan was to visit Preah Khan first, then Beng Mealea, then return to Siem Reap, leaving Angkor for another day. Leaving Siem Reap and travelling along an ancient dirt road (which now mostly follows the paved National Route 6), our first stop was Kampong Kdei, an 86-metre bridge supported by 21 arches, built in the 12th century during the reign of Jayavarman VII, the greatest and most ambitious Khmer ruler. The rust-coloured bridge, depicted on Cambodia's 5,000 riel banknote, has an impressive balustrade in the shape of a nine-headed naga, a mythical half-man, half-snake creature often found in Khmer artwork that represents water and fertility.
“Welcome to Free Massage Road,” Dey said. We turned onto a bumpy dirt road. I wondered what kind of massage he was getting, as I felt like I'd been dropped out of a second-story window multiple times. Preah Khan was still an hour away, and as we pulled off the highway, a more idyllic Cambodian landscape unfolded. Cement houses had given way to wooden stilt houses. Calves and their mothers lumbered along the dusty roads, and naked toddlers smiled and waved between scuffles. Dey told me the villagers were mostly farmers, growing cashews, cassava and rice.
It was bone-rattling as we arrived at Preah Khan. Unlike Angkor Wat, which welcomes thousands of visitors a day, very few make it to Preah Khan. As we exchanged smiles with other tourists as we passed, it felt like we shared a secret.
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Beng Mealea is a temple hidden in the jungle connected by the Eastern Royal Road (Image credit: Alamy)
Day explains that this was the most looted temple in the empire, sacked by French explorers in the 19th century and locals in the 20th. The temple looked like a giant game of Jenga in places, but it was also a menagerie filled with carved three-headed stone swans, garudas, elephants and nagas. We stopped at Preah Chatomukh, a restored 9.5-metre-tall statue that features four smiling Buddhas, one facing each direction. I was in awe of the awe-inspiring sight of its serene, enigmatic face carved into the enormous stone tower, and I understood why my travel companions call it the “Mona Lisa of Southeast Asia.”
We had delicious rice and dried fish for lunch in a thatched hut at a local restaurant. “This road is better for dirt bikes,” Dey said, explaining that the road from Preah Khan to Khvab village was only accessible by off-road bikes and oxcarts. Luckily, he happened to know two men who would give us a ride. I thought of the “birthday effect.” Statistically speaking, people are more likely to die on or around their birthdays. Riding on the back of a dirt bike in sweltering heat along dusty roads rutted by oxcarts probably wasn't going to improve my chances.
My dirt bike driver, Mr. Cheat, looked concerned as I clambered onto the back of his bike and gripped the grab rail. Mr. Day, who had been quite serious up until that point, broke into a mischievous grin. The engine rumbled to life and we were off. We sped through the jungle, dodging trenches and low-hanging tree branches. We sped through forests and fields and over packed clay roads dodged by the occasional tractor, stopping along the road to explore seldom-seen ruins.
The road from Preah Khan to Beng Mealea is lined with “fire stations” and slightly larger rest-house temples. Historians disagree as to whether these rest sites are religious, secular, or both, and because of their difficult access they have been little studied.
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Unlike Angkor Wat, which is visited by thousands of tourists a day, Preah Khan is mostly quiet. (Photo: Alamy)
We stopped at Sopheap Thobon, which mirrors the design of all the rest stations: a large gate in the outer wall leads to a central corridor flanked by galleries on either side. Peering into the narrow chamber through the angled windows, I imagined ancient travellers and pilgrims resting after a long journey across the vast Khmer empire. The average Khmer traveller was thought to be able to cover 30km in a day, so these rest stations were placed at 15km intervals to allow for midday and evening stops.
Another rest stop, Prasat Phram, is mostly a row of rocks tangled in vines, but an outhouse window shows carved pillars that served as Khmer window blinds. I cursed the temperature but was grateful that the road was dry, as driving along the wet oxcart ruts would have been dangerous. Before leaving, I asked Dey why there were no oxcarts in sight. “It's too hot for the oxen,” he replied.
I got back on my bike and grabbed Cheat's shoulder. “One more temple,” Dey said. Twenty minutes later, I trudged over the collapsed laterite blocks of Prasat Ta Eng, the fire temple, and stopped to catch my breath. This was a rest stop, after all. The leaves rustled, and I inhaled the scent of the grass. The sun peeked through the forest canopy. Without intervention, this place would fade from memory. Apart from a few protruding stones, nature's regrowth was nearly complete.
We then headed to the last bridge, Spean Ta Ong, a wonderful respite from the rutted roads. At over 70 metres long, it is beautiful and impressive, especially in the late afternoon light when the Naga parapets shine in burnt sienna.
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Prasat Plum is a vine-covered rest stop on East Royal Road (Credit: Alamy)
Arriving in Kvav, our 30km dirt bike adventure came to an end. We said goodbye to Mr. Cheat and climbed back into the air-conditioned carriage with Day. It was 20km to Ban Meriah, which closes in 15 minutes. We arrived late, but after Day handed over $5 to our guide, who was enjoying a beer after hours, we entered Ban Meriah and had it all to ourselves.
Built at the same time as Angkor Wat, Beng Mealea is believed by many to have been the prototype for Angkor Wat's capital. The temple is mysterious, romantic and virtually untouched. Silk cotton trees twine around the stone ruins, their roots spread across the earth like the ravenous claws of a giant lizard, and terrifying strangler figs seem to be trying to burrow underground to reclaim their rightful place in the underworld.
Large blocks of sandstone are scattered throughout the grounds, many of them decorated with intricate carvings. We follow a winding wooden walkway around the ruins (which we learn were built for the set of the 2004 Guy Pearce film Two Brothers). Among the rubble of the walls we come across a moss-covered masterpiece: The Churning of the Ocean of Milk, a scene from Hindu legend in which a god and a demon play tug-of-war over the elixir of life.
An hour later, we're back in Siem Reap and stop by the About Asia office. Covered in mud, I chat with Siren Truei, one of the few female guides in Siem Reap. When I ask her why she's not a guide, she laughed and said, “Dirt bikes. Those are men's things.”
I returned to Raffles looking more like Bear Grylls than Jackie Kennedy. Spikes protruding from my hair, dirt-rimmed glasses where I used to wear them, and when I took off my socks my feet were 12 shades darker than my grey ones. It was the best birthday ever.
Open Road is a celebration of the world's most incredible highways and byways, and a reminder that some of the best travel adventures happen through the car.
