It’s a slow start day which, given Spew’s lingering condition seems like a good plan, but finally puts us out on the street in the heat of mid-day. We’re planning on visiting the Royal Palace today so that means long pants and no purple, mesh tank top once again.

We start though at the Russian Market, so called because it used to be a popular destination for Russian expats. Our guide book says that you can buy anything there, and after seeing it, they are probably right. We don’t need any locks, light bulbs, or wheels for our bikes though, so after picking up a few small souvenirs, we decide to move on.

Also in our guide, are a few spots where they supposedly sell legitimate items that are made in the factories here for brands like North Face. With the help go Google we finally manage to track them down, but the prices aren’t any different than back home. I’m not sure what anyone here will do with a down jacket, but for two months wages it’s good to know they can get one.

Sitting on two strikes, we make our way back to the Royal Palace. As always, it’s good to be the king, and Cambodia is no different, even though the monarchy is mostly for show. That said, we’ve seen a lot of royal palaces over the years and they are definitely losing their impact. First world problem to be sure.

Feeling somewhat uninspired, we decide to call it a day and park ourselves by the pool for a few hours and take advantage of the Wi-Fi. It’s still the middle of the night back home, so a quiet time to try and catch up on emails, etc.

We do manage to roust ourselves for one last outing around 8pm, and inadvertently (or so I will maintain until my dying day) stumble across bar girl street. It’s a people-watching extravaganza to say the least – generally entertaining, often disturbing, and once in a while downright creepy. Sadly, Cambodia still attracts people that would be in jail pretty much anywhere else in the world. Fortunately, that doesn’t seem to be the crowd here on bar girl street, which is a good thing, as my recovering, but still under the weather traveling companion, would surely go all kung-fu on them.

Remember when I said we averted cholera from the nasty, barefoot squat hole on Phnom Kulen? I guess that was just me. This morning we’re just one for breakfast (on the upside however, I don’t have to share the egg tarts), while I try to find out whether we can extend our stay. I return with news that, no, the hotel does not have availability, but according to the web site, the bus has a “clean and comfortable” toilet. Perhaps she didn’t hear this right, but my sorry-looking travel partner doesn’t seem pleased by this.

It’s a quick 6.5 hours to Phnom Penh, and the bus company provides two small children at no charge to provide seat massage services most of the way. There is Wi-Fi, and with my elbows pointing way out like bat wings I can manage to type up against my chest, so the time is not all a waste. Spew, my seat mate sleeps most of the way which is also probably for the best.

This is definitely the big city, which is generally not a highlight for us. Combined with some of the sad things we are here to see I suspect we won’t Phnom Penh won’t change our minds, but we have three days to give it a shot. On the bright side, there is a market about ten steps from our front door (although you have to walk past the peeled frogs and animal heads to get to the food carts).

The Roberts’ claim to fame is missing breakfast because we can’t get out of the room in time, so we’re as surprised as anyone to be heading out of the hotel before it even starts. Sunrise happens around 5:45am, so to get a good spot, our driver meets us in the lobby at 4:30am. We have a very full day planned seeing some of the sights further out, but start off back at Angkor Wat. Tour groups are already starting to arrive by the time we pull in so we hustle over to the shore of a small lake where we’re told the view will be the best. And then wait.

Now I have a LOT of pictures of Angkor Wat in the morning. When you have nothing to do but stand and wait for an hour, you sort of lose track of how many you take. I can’t even look through them all to decide yet which ones to keep, but I do manage to flag a couple to share here.

With the sun up, we also get a chance to see the temple from the front gate (remember, our guide brought us in the back the first time we were here). I appreciate missing the crowds at the time, but the experience coming at it from this direction much, much different. Definitely more of a “wow” moment, so I’m glad we didn’t leave Siem Reap without seeing it.

From there, we settle in for the hour long drive to Banteay Srei, a 10th-century temple whose name translates roughly to the Lady Temple. Our guide book attributes this to the intricate bas relief carvings, and that something so detailed could only have been commissioned by women. Seems like a stretch, but I’ll let my travel mate win that one.

And now it’s time for Silly Songs with Larry, the part of the show where Larry comes out and sings a silly song.

That probably only makes sense to my boys.

An other hour further on is Phnom Kulen, the most holy mountain in Cambodia and the birthplace of the Khmer Empire. Years ago, getting to the summit meant a day long hike, but seeing opportunity, an enterprising businessman showed up with a bulldozer and carved a road through the jungle that tourists can use for $20 a head. It is only one lane, so in the morning traffic can only go up and in the afternoon traffic can only come down. Miss your window and you’re stuck until the next day.

There is a temple at the top with a giant reclining Buddha and, of course, all manner of snacks. The deep-fried bananas are delicious (and hot oil kills almost anything so deep-fried generally equals stomach-friendly), but still no takers on the excellent collection of bugs. At fifty cents for a soup can full, they are hard to turn down.

Also here is Kbal Spean, literally over 1,000 small penises carved into the riverbed. The water is still high from the rainy season so we only get to partake from the shore, a disappointing turn of events for the rest of my tour group.

The final attraction is a waterfall and pool. With the public holiday still in full swing, the place is packed, and as we fight our way out, even more people continue to stream in.

For me, the absolute highlight is the realization on my trusty travel partners face when she realizes she can’t make it all the way to the bottom of the mountain before using the facilities. We’re in luck though as there is a fine looking building for just a purpose located near the parking lot. As per custom, sandals are to be left at the door. I can’t see any reason why you’d need them.

Cholera averted, we start circling back towards Siem Reap, making our last stop at Beng Mealea. Identical to Angkor Wat, but on a smaller scale, Being Mealea remains pretty much how it was when the French “discovered” it. The crowds are much smaller, and walkways built through the ruins allow you to get right up close to what is still some very impressive construction. It may be the relative solitude, or perhaps the opportunity to let your imagination run free, but of them all, I found this temple the easiest to “connect” with. On a longer trip, I could easily spend a day wandering through the various twist and turns.

With such an early start, we’ve managed to tick all of these things off our list and still be back to Siem Reap by 3:30. The tank is pretty empty though, leaving just enough energy for one last dinner here and a massage. Tomorrow we’re off to Phnom Penh on the second nicest bus line in the country. Somehow I suspect that isn’t near as good as it sounds.

After punishing the FitBit yesterday, we planned to keep things pretty low key and rest up for a final assault on Angkor Wat, sans guide, to revisit some spots where we felt rushed. I managed to catch up on things back at the office, while my travel partner did some more research for her sleep study. Follow that up with a healthy serving of fresh mangoes, dumplings, and the best egg tarts I’ve eaten outside of Hong Kong, and the next thing you know, noon is staring you in the face.

As you might imagine, I’ve been begging to go shopping since we arrived here, and finally my events coordinator agrees to visit a group of craft centers about X miles out of Siem Reap near the town of Roulos. A tuk-tuk rents for about $15 per day, so we pick one up on the street and are quickly on our way (oooh, I can’t wait to see all those silk scarves).

In our guide book, they talk about the local artisans and how you can watch them make pottery, weave fabrics, and carve stone. Turns out that during festival weekend, none of that happens. The entire place is deserted and even the security patrol is asleep, leaving shelves of merchandise that we could easily walk away with.

We do finally track down someone to take our money and head off with a few souvenirs (ceramics of course, because what better to carry around in a backpack for 21 days than breakables?). Some of the oldest Khmer temples are near Roulos, so despite being templed-out yesterday, we decide to take a look while we are here. We’re a ways off the beaten track here, so we have the place mostly to ourselves, making for a much different vibe.

Back in the tuk-tuk, our driver asks if we want to visit Kompong Phluk. Seeing a floating village mildly piqued our interest when reading about Siem Reap, and since this one is apparently just a few more kilometers down the road we figure, why not? It means an extra five bucks for the driver as well, so everyone’s a winner.

Now on the main roads a tuk-tuk is a perfectly acceptable means of transport. On a dusty, bumpy, country road, somewhat less so. I’m scared of swallowing a bug (see above for the size of bugs around here) if I open my mouth, and pretty sure one of the trucks barreling in the opposite direction is going to kick a rock up into face, but somehow we make it to the pier unscathed.

We have $42 extra dollars however, so the boat mafia graciously takes that off our hands before we are allowed to board. Nobody asks, but of the bigger boats with plenty of passengers and the smaller boats where we can travel alone they know the latter is more our style. It isn’t the most seaworthy looking craft, but if you have to get on a sketchy boat, pick the one where the captain brings his baby.

As the rainy season has just ended, the lake is still quite high and the buildings (homes, schools, restaurants, etc.) in the village are all surrounded by several feet of water. Six months from now, at the end of the dry season, they will be about 15 feet above dry land before the cycle starts again.

Past a certain point, the motor boats can no longer navigate between the trees and the offload you to an even smaller scrap of wood paddled by one of the village ladies. It is all designed to extract maximum value out of the tourists as they take you by a bunch of people selling drinks and talk about using tip money to pay for English school. My fellow road warrior is having none of it though, and I fear we may end up getting dumped deep in the woods all over a dollar.

Finally back on our original boat, we head further into the lake. It is getting late in the day and we’re not sure why we aren’t heading back, but when we pull up to a tired, old platform, we realize we (baby included) are going to get to see a sunset after all.

It is an interesting track back to Siem Reap in the dark (neither our boat nor out tuk-tuk are really configured for late night travel), but this seems like an average day’s work for both drivers, and despite a few white-knuckle moments, we arrive back at Siem Reap in one piece. The streets are completely packed though, as tonight seems like the peak of the Water Festival. We ditch the tuk-tuk and make our way through the crowd, taking advantage of the array of street carts that line the way (we did skip the one selling grubs and cockroaches). The festivities will go on long into the night, too long for us as we’ve got an appointment with sunrise tomorrow.

Some days just don’t turn out like you planned. Today, that was a good thing.

Plenty to cover today so we’ll be skipping stories of the glorious egg tarts and fresh mango at breakfast and fast forwarding right to the Angkor Wat ticket counter. Because we’re so travel savvy, we pressed the agent booking our guide to pick us up at 7:30 instead of 8:30. That way, we’d be plenty far ahead of the tour busses and get a little quiet time to see the ruins and take pictures before the hordes descended. Problem is, about a thousand other people are even more savvy than we are and are already milling around the ticket office or climbing back aboard their busses to head to the gate. Our guide mumbles something about it being high season and then directs us to our queue.

Tickets in hand, we head back to the car for the short drive to Angkor Wat. Along the way, we get a brief introduction to the history and an outline of our itinerary for today. While Angkor Wat is the most well known of the Khmer temples (and the largest religious monument in the world) it is just one of over a thousand in an area covering 400 square kilometers. It is neither the biggest site (Angkor Thom), oldest (Phnom Kulen), most ornate (Banteay Srei), or a host of other characteristics, however, it is the one people come to see by name so is where our tour begins.

To dodge some of the biggest crowds, our guide takes us to the less popular the back gate. There he rambles on for far too long about Buddhists and Hindus, creators and destroyers, heaven and hell, blah, blah, blah. There are some interesting nuggets here and there, but most of it we picked up at the museum already, and this early in the morning, it has the power of a handful of Ambien. Once we are in motion however, he manages to find us some good photo opps and doubles as a pretty good cameraman.

Inside the temple itself, its an absolute madhouse. People are going every direction, selfie sticks are waving all over the place, and tour guides with their flocks of sheeple are struggling to talk over each other in a variety of languages. It feels like Wal-Mart on Black Friday.

Angkor Wat is set out in three concentric layers. The first is the most artistically interesting, with detailed, bas-relief carvings covering the other walls. These tell a collection of stories including the Churning of the Ocean Milk and depictions of rewards and punishments for 37 heavens and 32 hells (one of the latter being jam-packed in a narrow cloister in humid, 90 degree heat, all while wearing temple-friendly full-length pants). The angles and crowds don’t really allow for any good pictures, but there are plenty on Google if you need a visual.

The second layer contains a number of galleries, courtyards, pools (now empty), and of course access to the final level, with its tower said to represent the mythical Mount Meru.

There is also a monk here giving out blessings, and since you can’t have too many of those, we decide to pick one up.

Because space is more limited the higher up you go, only 100 people at a time are allowed past this point. With the festival and peak tourist season kicking in, that means a pleasant 45-minute wait under the mid-day sun before ascending to level three (according to our guide, the lines get longer and the temperature higher the later in the year you get, so I guess that blessing is coming in handy and we aren’t here on New Year’s Day).

It is noticeably less chaotic, allowing time to take in the carvings and eagle-eye views of the entire complex.

One interesting observation is that when looking at the apsaras (dancing nymphs from Indian mythology), all of their boobs are shiny. Not their faces, not their feet, just their boobs. There is a stature in Las Vegas where the finger is all shiny from people rubbing it for good luck, so maybe that explains it. Building full of roosters, statues of naked ladies, the math sort of works out.

After breaking for lunch, we are off to Ta Prohm, a 12th century temple made famous by its cameo in the movie Tomb Raider. Like all temples in the area, it was abandoned as the Khmer empire went into decline, and over the years, was reclaimed by the jungle. The trees and stones now exist in a state of symbiosis, making for countless mind-bending views. There is slow work underway to restore this site, but it’s hard to say whether peeling back the layers of overgrowth will make it better.

Our pace is noticeably faster now, and in fairly quick succession we tick off the three main sights in Angkor Thom the royal residence, Baphuon (which was meticulously taken apart for restoration prior to the Khmer Rouge coming to power and pieced back together despite all of the records being destroyed), and finally, Bayon.

Of these, Bayon is the most well-known, due to its rich carvings and multitude of smiling faces peering out from the towers. It is also the last temple built at Angkor. Of course, with popularity comes tour busses, selfie-sticks, and people blocking narrow pathways and staircases posing for self-styled glamor shots.

A common way to end a day at Angkor Wat is to take in the sunset from Phnom Bakheng, a tiny mound that our guide keeps referring to as a mountain but is a tiny hill just a few hundred feet high. However, after hearing how many people try to cram themselves in the limited space on the top, we decide to take a pass. Sunrise, we’re told, is the better event, and since we still have that on our agenda, call it a day and head back to the hotel.

So, was it worth the wait? That’s a tough question. The temples are breathtaking, pure and simple. But whether it was cramming so much into one day, the relentless crowds, or just the lack of opportunity to sit quietly and take it all in, overall it feels just a little less special than Egypt or Peru. The next few days will be calmer and less clinical, so maybe I’ll reserve my answer until then.

With one of the all-time bucket list destinations just a few miles away, you’d think we’d be out the door early to join the horde of tourists flocking to Angkor Wat. However, a bit a malaise has set in (it seems my sidekick is somewhat contagious) and we have slept in well past the morning rush. Fortunately, our reputation seems to precede us and their breakfast hours extend until almost noon, allowing us to catch the tail end before heading out to explore the city.

After a hearty meal it makes little sense for our first destination to be food-based, but we have been told the world’s greatest ice cream is mere blocks away which is too tempting to pass up (and as Joey taught us long ago, there is a different can inside your body for desserts). It takes a wrong turn down a back alley or two, and short trek along a nasty smelling river, but we eventually find the place and pick out a table.

On the menu is the Ice Mountain with a selection of fruit flavors. The picture shows a large sundae looking thing which looks innocuous enough, and mango is one of the options so all systems are go. Or so it seems. What appears in front of me is the Cambodian version of the Ziggy Pig.

Somehow it all goes down, but unhappy with the dairy bomb now in its possession, my stomach and I spend the next two hours maintaining a very delicate ceasefire.

Our next stop is the Angkor National Museum where we figure we can get a good introduction to what we’ll see over the next few days. The exhibits are quite well done and, given that the whole complex is a collection of temples, it isn’t too surprising that the content mostly ties back to religion. By the time we are finished though, my head is spinning trying to keep track of Hinduism versus Buddhism, which king followed which belief system, and all of the different incarnations of Vishnu.

With both my stomach and brain now threatening rebellion, a relaxing massage seems like a good way to appease them. There are some cheap places along the road back to our hotel, but we’re slowly learning our lesson when it comes to this sort of thing and decide to spend a few extra bucks (literally a few bucks) and go a bit more upscale. So for $17, we spend the next 2 hours being manhandled by a couple of tiny Cambodian ladies.

Feeling significantly better, we make arrangements for a driver and tour guide to take us to the temples in the morning and sit down for a rather bland and uninspiring meal. And with that, our first full day comes to a close.