I was sadly misinformed about there being a Pizza Hut in the Seoul-Incheon airport. However, there was a Quizno`s and Caribou Coffee to treat ourselves during the 4-hour Sunday layover. Late that night we arrived in Siem Riep, and took a breezy
tuk-tuk (motorized rickshaw) ride to the Green Palace Village, our brightly-painted hotel set far back from the dusty street. The gathering area out front featured a tiki bar, pool, and palm-frond huts shading lounge chairs or hammocks, all lushly bordered by tropical plants (glowing with twinkle lights after dark) and potted orchids strung up in rows. Geckos everywhere. A haven after what would be two full days of hiking through ruins upon ruins in the sun and sweltering mid-90`s temps.
Borrowing two cruiser bikes proved the best way to explore the Angkor area. Most tourists rent tuk-tuks, but it was great fun to be pedaling the flat roads alongside the locals (they riding double), catching a cool breeze. On the first day, we visited Angkor Wat, UNESCO World Heritage Site and the largest religious structure in the world.
And this is where people officially began asking us to buy things, which I unfondly recalled from visiting Thailand last year. Stand still, and be swarmed: Tuk-tuk? Bracelets, three for one dollar! You want cold drink? Very cheap! You want food? You want books? Scarf? Postcards? Tour guide? The constant inquiries—from both adults and children, who latch onto tourists and follow them, asking over and over, gradually lowering their prices, despite however many “No, thank you”s people may give—can be a difficult aspect of travel in this region. I know that most of the people who ask need the money. I think I understand why they ask. I imagine the vast majority are good people. But constantly warding sellers off, being ever wary of a scam, and being vigilant about carrying valuables was the most tiring part of the trip for me. Perhaps I’ve become less assertive and less cautious over the past year in the safety and complicity of Japanese society? This is not meant
whatsoever to overshadow the fact that...
Angkor was absolutely amazing. Nearly every stone surface of the massive complex was carved with intricate patterns, images of deities, script. Wooden beams bolstered crumbling walkways, and large chunks of rubble, numbered, lay in corners, waiting to be reassembled.
After lunch at a stand (fried noodles with vegetables...no chicken), we cycled on to Angkor Thom, and the million massive faces of Bayon Square jutting out above the jungle.
We took a quick walk around Baphuon, and watched some Cambodian cows ramble past the Terrace of the Elephants...
...then pedaled back into Siem Riep for coconut-sweet potato curry and ginger soup in the Old Market, a lively cluster of cafes and shops, a more relaxed, mini version of Bangkok’s Khao San.
We caved for a tuk-tuk the second day, to efficiently visit a few outlying temples of Angkor. Our first stop was Ta Phrom, covered in massive roots either grasping the crumbling blocks and holding them together, or slowly prying stones apart at the cracks. The surrounding jungle was reclaiming its territory, lending a certain spookiness to the place.
We next wandered through Preah Khan, an expansive structure with room after adjoining room, forming a long tunnel with various arms and outlying buildings, their carved stone walls tinted green and red from the jungle moisture. Unlike Angkor Wat, Preah Khan was very quiet, save for a constant, low buzz from the thick trees. Looking into the dense forest from its edge made completely plausible the presence of sizeable structures out there in the thick of it, yet undiscovered.
After a late lunch and brief rest in the shade, we rode out to Phrom Bakheng to climb up the hill (without elephant assistance) in time to see the sunset. This was the place to be, given the crowd; we got to see Angkor Wat in the distance, but only a bit of reddish sun before the sky clouded over. 
We hiked back down the hill in the hazy dusk, toward dinner and a dip in the pool. And that was Cambodia. We left the next morning in a purple propeller plane bound for Ho Chi Minh City.
A really nice old man took this photo, then almost fell down the stone stairs behind him:
Kunozan Toshogu is a Shinto shrine complex built in 1617 to honor the spirit of Tokugawa Ieyasu, a shogun from Shizuoka City who helped unify feudal Japan during the late 16th century. The complex contains all the original structures, meticulously upkept with bright paint and gold detail.
On the opposite side of the hill as the ropeway is a stone staircase overlooking the ocean and the strawberry greenhouses lining the coast. My guidebook states, "As you climb up the 1159 stone steps leading to the sacred grounds, you are purified by the magical power." But we went down the stairs instead of up.
Once on the coast, we enjoyed a pitcher of staggeringly sweet strawberry sangria, then took the bus back to central Shizuoka. School ended the following Wednesday, and the next weekend, Jackson moved, and Davin and I were off to Cambodia and Vietnam.