Say a little prayer for you

This weekend I played the tourist quite a lot, starting on Saturday with a solitary walk around the around town with a stop at the cobbler's, as it's the second pair of shoes that I break in fifteen days. Now, what I used to regard as dusty old houses in Streets 1 and 2 have gained a new status as elegant French colonial workshop-houses. I discovered a small Chinese temple -still in use- and took a sneak peek into the old cinema, its roof blown away by Pol Pot's army back in the day. Oddly enough, although the temples are quite stunning, they seem to be quietly ignored by locals and travel guides alike -and even used as pubs by the poor families that live in the pagoda site- and the small local museum seems to never be open. 

The Sangker river

Thai-style temple from the 19th century

The way back home was a bit of an ordeal, as many streets and bridges were closed due to the famous Angelina film. I don't know how, but I ended up at the film set, where a crowd of Cambodian men, women and children melted under their parasols waiting from the stage managers orders. After watching for a while, I bumped into this other temple below:

Angkor-type temple

On Sunday, Eva, Juanjo, Kosal, Bulang and I went to the Banan temple, about 30 km from Battambang. This Angkorian style compound dates from the 11th century and it's strategically located at the top of a 400 m high mountain. The structure is almost intact but, like so many other Khmer ruins, it has fallen victim of massive looting. There's still a very cute Buddhist shrine inside the central pram, where we all said a little prayer Buddhist style with our burning incense sticks.

Juanjo, one more lion, guarding the Banan temple

After a painful climb up 300 steps under the implacable 38º C heat, we were rewarded with a stunning bird's-eye view of the winding Sangker river amidst sugar palm trees, rice fields and small country villages. To the south there is a crocodile-shaped mountain range that it is said to be home to even more temples.

Painful 300 steps

The temple has its dark story too as it was used by the Khmer Rouge for their skirmishes. Today, ten-year old children wait upstairs for the wrecked visitors to fan them and offer their services as photographers. Obviously, they do it to eventually get a tip from those pitiful tourists -maybe they are even sent there by their own parents so that they contribute to the household economy. But how sad it is to see a ten-year old in rags fanning our sweaty white faces, just like little slaves.

Local fanning girl with great English

After praying, the sticks are poked into a holder where they burn out

After the temple, Juanjo, Kosal and I decided to make a stop at the swimming pool. Here, in most hotels and resorts it is possible to use the swimming pool if you order a drink at the pool bar. We went to a resort-type of place at the side of the road called Au Cabaret Vert. Despite the somewhat inconvenient location, it is a lovely place with a Bohemian air and lots of character -their ice coffee is rather terrible though. Which didn't come as a big surprise anyway, as coffee here is terrible in general. At the moment they have an exhibition from New York artist Karen Hartmann, who has been living in Battambang for four years now painting its surroundings and people. A really nice, down-to-earth lady who even presented us with some self-made spa salt. Oh, and Kosal had her very first swimming lesson!