Ok, and it can't really be called a series-- I only have two photos-- but here's some fun images of umbrellas taken at national parks to close out this slightly odd week's photos. Maybe it's just the rainy patches we've been having in Cape Town that inspired me? Either way, hope this weekend is sunny-- for you, and for me.
Compared to the photographs of restrooms I showed yesterday, these photos of National Park signs make for perhaps a more normal series on the mundane side of travel and tourism. Sometimes I liked the signs for how they added a layer of visual meaning through which to interpret the site, like at the Grand Canyon; sometimes I liked the unusual iconography, like at the Bayon at Angkor; other times I was just struck by an odd phrase, like at the Valley of the Kings, or at Mlilwane Park in Swaziland.
I have a complicated personal history with Phnom Penh. I have been taken sick on both of my visits to the Cambodian capital, so that some of my strongest memories of the city are of lying in bed in pain. And my first night there was spent feeling exhaustedly overwhelmed: by the traffic of motorbikes, the maimed beggars, and the clash of new development with destitute poverty. But in the end, it’s still one of the cities in Asia I think most longingly of. For somehow, despite its suffering history, its lingering ills, it’s a city where hope seems almost to be sprouting from the cracks in the pavement.
I hope everyone had an incredible holiday-- around here, there were heaps of sweets baked, much time spent with my family, and numerous incredible meals enjoyed (both out and in). It's been fantastic and overwhelming, and only now is my mind starting to clear from all of it. And, it being New Year's Eve, the perfect time to look back over the past year as I start to plan the next.
8. Trang Province, Thailand, October to November
5. Central Vietnam, September
2. Hanoi, Vietnam, March
The awkwardness of this entry's title was intentional, as it was meant to evoke the haphazard nature of my food 'researches' on this trip to Cambodia. Though I had really looked forward to exploring the nuanced flavors of Khmer cooking, we traveled at such breakneck speed that there wasn't much time for culinary exploration. More often than not, meals had to be worked into the schedule, either between seeing the sights or after a long day of temple gazing. In the end, many of our meals were at tourist-oriented restaurants serving Khmer food. Even so, I did have some amazing meals and a few dishes that really made me consider making the move across the border. At the very least, my un-sated curiosity provides more than enough reason to return some day. So, I now end my series of post on Cambodia with a few of the dishes that I tried over this visit to Cambodia.
One of the worst things about only having a few days in Phnom Penh was that there was not nearly enough time to get to all of the cafes and coffeeshops that we wanted to. When Bordeaux and I first visited Phnom Penh, we had been traveling for the two months previous, and we were thrilled to be able to recharge in so many different wonderful cafes. But more than just relief from homesickness, Phnom Penh's elegant cafes offer delicious baked goods, well executed meals, and, most importantly, excellent coffee. On this visit, we nostalgically visited a few we'd made it to last time. We had breakfast at Java, a second floor art gallery/cafe that makes strong Vietnamese drip coffee and serves an excellent bowl of muesli, yogurt, and locally sourced honey. We made it back to The Shop, a bakery and deli where I tried the decadent crepe with mango, banana, and passion fruit. We also made time to try a new place, Chocolate, where we paired a dark chocolate brownie with equally dark coffee.
Sugar-cane juice may be the ideal drink for a scorching Cambodian day. Served in frosty mugs or plastic-bags, the pale golden liquid has a refreshingly citric sweetness. Though it's available throughout much of Southeast Asia, I'd never seen as many sugar-cane juice stands as I encountered in Cambodia. It seemed that every street, market, and noodle-shop had its own sugar-cane grinder at work. So in the interest of doing as the locals do, I ordered a bag.
The vendor grabbed some stalks of sugar-cane that were chilling in water, and placed them in his grinder. Leaning his whole body into the wheel, he turned them through one, two, three times. He threw some of the mushy pulp into the bottom of a plastic bag, and then poured in the lemon-yellow juice. Dipping a straw in, I took a sip. It was not as sweet as I expected, but nicely tart. And it certainly took the edge off the midday heat.
While visiting Phnom Penh's Royal Palace, we found ourselves captive, held at the mercy of a monsoon downpour. But sheltered in the portico of the Silver Pagoda, we were granted time to admire some of the more unusual elements of the temple grounds. For though Phnom Penh's palace may not have the flash and glamor of Bangkok's, it's still a visually captivating place, with teal painted guardians, faded Hanuman lampposts, and a mash-up of architectural styles.
After fifteen minutes of waiting outside locked doors, we started to worry we were in the wrong place. The sign advertising The Cambodia Cooking Class suggested that we were in the right place, but there was no on there to greet us and no where to sit and wait. Finally the doors opened, and we were greeted by a man rubbing sleep out of his eyes. “I just woke up,” he explained. We moved inside to continue waiting in the darkened shop interior. The man who greeted us disappeared out the front door, while another man, our cooking teacher, came downstairs yawning. He began sweeping out the shop and cleaning up empty beer bottles, giving us no sign of what was going on.
Close to fifteen minutes later, the other guy returned with a tuk tuk. We piled in, and headed for the market. Most cooking classes begin with a tour of a local wet market as a way to introduce some local foods, ingredients, and cooking methods. At the Thai Farm Cooking School, we were shown different qualities of rice, given a demonstration on making coconut milk and coconut cream, and lectured on the differences between different kinds of curry powder. In Luang Phrabang, we were shown a variety of fresh herbs and spices. In this cooking class, we walked through the market in a hurried single file.
Thankfully, the tone of the class shifted rapidly once we got to the cooking school. This was no doubt helped by the setting of the kitchen, which was as relaxed as the market was hectic: a quiet top-floor patio, where we looked out over a busy baguette bakery and the lush garden of the Royal Palace. As we settled into the open-air surroundings, out teacher apologized for giving such a rushed tour of the market, and explained that the setting there is so crowded and busy that he wasn’t able to give any explanation. Instead, he took a selection of fresh herbs and vegetables out of the refrigerator, and talked us through them.
Over the course of the day, we each made (clockwise, from upper left corner): fish amok, a delicious custard-like curry that's steamed in a banana leaf cup; saing jayk, peppery pork and chicken 'sausages' that are fried in a banana flower roll; a citrusy prawn and pomelo salad made two ways- one with the prawns cooked, the other cured in a lime dressing; and for dessert, a creamy durian custard steamed in a pumpkin. We ate these dishes as we prepared them throughout the day, which gave the class a nicely languid atmosphere that fit with Phnom Penh's tropical heat. In between, we were given tastes of banana flower soup, and bites of fresh durian.
In the end, the class really was wonderful- enough so to make the rocky start totally irrelevant. Every class we’ve taken has had its strengths- whether it was the atmosphere of the class, the setting of the kitchen, or the glimpse into local culture afforded by the lesson. In this class, our guide was a trained chef, and there was a strong focus on food presentation. He gave us great tips on how to make our food look its best, and as a result, these were some of the most professional looking dishes I’ve ever made in a cooking class. He was an outstanding teacher, who helped us to make the cooking as effortless as he made it look. And most importantly of all, I left the class with the strong desire (and ability) to make some delicious Khmer dishes at home.
The spirithouses in Cambodia had a distinct style all their own. I particularly favoured these rather glamorous models, painted entirely gold.
Though the presence of luxury Landrovers and sparkling new condos attest that Kep is on its way to becoming a hot destination again, for the moment the oceanside jungle still conceals ruins of the past. Rooms that once hosted cocktail parties and lavish dinners now shelter lizards and moths. The soil in the province is famously fertile; so fertile that even abandoned properties grow as lush as tended plantations. Banana palms cluster in shaded alcoves, jack-fruit trees burden their heavy fruit among exposed beams. On the other side of Cambodia, Angkorian ruins are held in the grip of strangler trees; that overgrowth is mirrored in this seaside paradise, as once elegant compounds are swallowed by the hungry forest.
The Cambodian town of Kep was once a glamorous seaside resort, its rocky coast edged by Modernist villas. The civil war struck the town particularly hard though, and many of the houses were deserted, to be overtaken by the forest's growth. Yet even though the houses seem abandoned, some betray their habitation through their well-tended spirit houses.
After a lunch in the seaside town of Kep, we were passed by a man on a bike. Our attention drawn by the clinging of his bell, we noticed that he had a blocky orange cooler strapped onto the back of his bike. We stopped him, and ordered one ice-cream each. Instead of the frozen popsicles we had been expecting, he took out a long white block, set it onto a small wooden cutting board, and sliced it neatly into sections. Sliding each one onto a bamboo skewer, he handed them to us.
The bas-reliefs that line the outer walls of Angkor's Bayon depict scenes from life under the Khmer empire. Many of the stories are of historical battles, of Khmer soldiers in combat against Cham armies. Other scenes are of everyday life: citizens gather at the market, men watch a cockfight, women groom their friends' hair. There are also some more unusual scenes tucked between the chatting old ladies and the armored elephants: an old man climbs a tree to hide from a hungry tiger; a parade of unusual circus animals march through town. This empire of stone is watched over by a host of river dwellers: lazy crocodiles and giant fish that seem to observe the procession of human history with only a passing interest.
Some of these creatures seem truly monstrous, like the crocodiles that wait for the victims of war...
... or the fish that swallowed a deer.
But in most cases, they seem merely indifferent to the lives of the humans around them.
Long a gateway for visitors to the ruins of Angkor, the town of Siem Reap has in recent years been seeking to promote itself as a destination its own right. It now boasts hip hotels, attractive art galleries, and inviting coffee shops. Bordeaux and I visited Siem Reap last August; after a bit of rough traveling through Southern Laos, Siem Reap offered some wonderful comforts. We could have well-prepared espresso drinks, eat delicious baked goods, and find some other hard-to-find treats from home (this may be the only city in the Mekong Delta where you can buy Dr. Pepper). On this return trip, we enjoyed being able to resample some of these treats.
For coffee and cake, we headed directly for The Blue Pumpkin. Located across from the Old Market, their kitchen bakes up treats that strike a good balance between East and West. I tried the milky Coconut Flan, while Bordeaux had the tasty Pandan Coconut Cake. With its spare white walls and stark furnishings, the upstairs lounge may be a little too Bed Supperclub, but with comfy lounging space and strong air-con, it's hard to complain.
Blue Pumpkin also deserves mention for making what may be the most delicious ice cream in Southeast Asia. In addition to perfectly executed Western standards like mint or strawberry, or superb Asian options like durian and coconut, they make a few more unique flavors. During our first visit, Bordeaux developed a very strange affection for their cashew and caramel flavor, which he nurtured on this return trip. I opted instead for the ginger and black sesame. It was sharp and flavorful, but still creamy enough to offer refreshment on a balmy tropical evening.
We visited the Raffle's Grande Hotel d'Angkor primarily to check out the retro '30s style, but I was also tempted by the glass jars of cookies in their tea shop. The most interesting was a turmeric cookie, which had the crumb crunch of buttery shortbread, with a softly spicy taste.
And to end our evenings, we headed to the FCC Angkor for cocktails. The FCC is housed in the former Governer's Mansion, a two-story art deco pile with swirling fans and delicate columns. On a rainy evening, we sat upstairs, listening to the sound of the monsoon downpour as it splashed onto the garden. On a clearer night, we sat on the patio downstairs while overhead giant fruit bats stretched their wings in the sticky night air.
*These sweet treats and dry drinks aren't the only reasons to linger in Siem Reap. For more ideas on things to do, eat, or buy in Cambodia, check out the listing at Stay Another Day. They seek to connect interested travellers with organizations, shops and restaurants that are helping to preserve local culture, and benefit local communities. A few examples they suggest in Siem Reap include Singing Tree Cafe, which offers healthy Khmer dishes in a relaxed garden setting, and Senteurs d'Angkor, a shop that stocks local spices and handsome silk scarves.
Photographing Angkor can be difficult. It can be hard to capture forms and contrast when the entire landscape is a dark shade of gray stone. But in between the slate walls and granite columns, there are spots of activity lite in splashes of bright orange. Though most Western visitors come to Angkor for its ruined 'Lost City' atmosphere, it's still a living site of religious importance. Sculptures of the Buddha are still lovingly draped in saffron silk robes, towering tangerine candles are lit in hallway altars.
